Is There a Shaman in the House?
Tieraona Low Dog delivers a healer's message to mainstream medicine
July/August 2000
Jessica Cohen Utne Reader
Tieraona Low Dog has some things to tell doctors about doctoring,
and many are surprisingly enthusiastic about listening. Last year,
this herbalist and M.D. from Albuquerque crisscrossed the country
to speak at 51 conferences, mostly at medical schools, and this
year she'll make the rounds again.
RELATED CONTENT
The Web of Life Bloomington, Indiana, offers something that the Internet can't March April 1995 By ...
Whether They Want To or Not, Guatemalans Embrace the Elephant to the North El Presidente signs CAF...
What the world's ancient shamanic healing traditions can teach us today...
The top 10 counterculture characters in TV history...
Her message, though not simple, is clear: The practice of
medicine is changing. Whether in Manhattan or Honolulu, she stands
at the podium, her black hair often hanging loose almost to the
waist of a long gauzy skirt, and confidently explains, in precise
biochemical detail, how, for instance, hawthorn can--and can't--be
used for treating heart disease and what drugs it interferes with.
Or how black cohosh can alleviate menopausal symptoms, and what
sort of research backs up her assertions. Or how listening
purposefully reveals the source of a patient's affliction.
At Columbia University Medical School, Low Dog explained how she
treated a man who was distraught over his sudden impotence. She
found, with a little probing, that his problem had begun after he'd
slept with his best friend's wife. She counseled, 'Every evening at
sundown, light a candle, sit facing east, and pray for your best
friend's forgiveness.' His malady soon disappeared, and other men
with similar afflictions began appearing at her clinic.
The Columbia audience chuckled, but Manhattan physician Michael
Gnatt later confessed he was 'blown away' by her approach. 'She
took on a magical role of shaman, gave him a process to go through
as an authority figure. You have to have a lot of confidence,
understanding of the culture, the whole picture, to do that. I tend
to be more careful. Most doctors would refer him to a
therapist.'
And though he's not attempting shamanism, Gnatt said, Low Dog
'transformed' his practice. 'I'm using less pharmaceuticals and
more herbs,' he said. Low Dog was able to influence him because
'she combined what she learned in medical school about biochemistry
with her herbal knowledge in mechanistic ways that explain why and
when herbs work, and how they can alter a situation rather than
just block it with drugs.'
Low Dog, who chairs the U.S. Pharmacopoeia Botanicals Committee,
which evaluates the clinical evidence for effects of commonly used
herbs, often impresses doctors with biochemical knowledge they only
vaguely recollect from medical school. But med school isn't so
distant for her; she hadn't even finished her residency when she
began her cross-country teaching expeditions two years ago.
Known as 'the herb lady' in Las Cruces, with a three-week
waiting list of patients, she was nearing 30 when, propelled by a
crisis of conscience, she decided to begin the trek through medical
school. 'I didn't go to medical school to become a doctor,' she
says. 'I just saw myself as a doctor who didn't have enough
diagnostic capability or the ability to have really powerful
medicine when people needed it.'