A Space of Our Own: Cultivating Healing Spaces For Us By Us
Starting my first business, I was bombarded with advice like, "Be open to all clients. All money is green." Yet, navigating through a sea of clients who looked nothing like me and could not fully grasp the essence of my contributions - despite benefiting from my expertise- left me pondering. The financial rewards were undeniable, yet something pivotal was missing.
Then came my first full-service black client. The urge to blurt out, "You're exactly who I've envisioned serving!" was overwhelming as they signed my contract. Eventually, they became my biggest client, as I helped them grow from a high 6-figure to an almost 8-figure business. It felt like home. It was in alignment with why I decided to turn my accounting skills into a business. Deep down, it was always meant to be for "us."
This sentiment has only deepened as I navigate the psÿchedelic realm, aiming to make this emerging space safer and more accessible to us. That familiar feeling of "none of you truly grasp this experience from my perspective" persistently resurfaces. It's the solitude of being the sole representative of my identity in spaces not crafted with my narrative in mind while grappling with others' piqued curiosity about how I got here and (after they get to know me) how I fit in so well. The feeling of "You didn't have my experience of this moment in mind when you created this event/space" is a constant friend.
This time around, though, it's bigger than crunching numbers; it's about breaking ceilings and opening doors for our healing, our way. It's about healing for the collective. My collective. It's also about breaking barriers and providing access. This is about, as one of my colleagues put it, my people who "need it more than we [non-blacks] do, but they won't step into these spaces because, though we mean well, most of us (facilitators) look like the oppressor. So much harm has been done; we may not be the right ones to walk you through the healing of your collective experience of those who look like us." That conversation was the beginning of my understanding that many non-black facilitators, despite their best intentions, can't facilitate for black people. Still, it's a missing link to the black experience that often leaves us unable to fully immerse ourselves in these sacred healing experiences.
Repeatedly, my black clients reiterate how long they've wanted to experience plant medicine healing and how they've been researching but don't know who to trust to provide them with accurate information. They never fail to express how reassuring it is to see someone who looks like them in this arena. It's a privilege to hold sacred space for them, with or without the medicine. Because yes, I'm great at what I do, but also, "I get it" on a level that transcends mere competency.
We deserve authentic spaces that are tailored to our unique experiences and needs. We deserve nurturing spaces where we can be seen and heard without having to explain our cultural nuances or ourselves. We deserve genuine spaces where we can connect with like-minded individuals without feeling the need to be guarded or code-switch. We deserve compassionate spaces where we can explore and expand our healing journeys without fear or apprehension that our vulnerabilities will be taken advantage of. We are worthy of being gently held as we grow through our healing processes. We are worthy of having spaces where our voices are heard and amplified as we unravel the shackles of personal and societal trauma and learn to step into who we were always meant to be before life and society interrupted our evolution.
In short, we deserve the same quality of space that we, too often, provide for others with little thanks, recognition, or reciprocation. Considering the way we stay saving the world... (IYKYK), we need to put that energy right back into ourselves. While I'm open to working with everyone, my heart and focus, with this sacred plant healing work, are firmly with us.
So I said all that to say, this time around, as I expand my sacred plant healing services, I'm betting on black all the way.
✊🏿✊🏾✊🏽✊🏼
Then came my first full-service black client. The urge to blurt out, "You're exactly who I've envisioned serving!" was overwhelming as they signed my contract. Eventually, they became my biggest client, as I helped them grow from a high 6-figure to an almost 8-figure business. It felt like home. It was in alignment with why I decided to turn my accounting skills into a business. Deep down, it was always meant to be for "us."
This sentiment has only deepened as I navigate the psÿchedelic realm, aiming to make this emerging space safer and more accessible to us. That familiar feeling of "none of you truly grasp this experience from my perspective" persistently resurfaces. It's the solitude of being the sole representative of my identity in spaces not crafted with my narrative in mind while grappling with others' piqued curiosity about how I got here and (after they get to know me) how I fit in so well. The feeling of "You didn't have my experience of this moment in mind when you created this event/space" is a constant friend.
This time around, though, it's bigger than crunching numbers; it's about breaking ceilings and opening doors for our healing, our way. It's about healing for the collective. My collective. It's also about breaking barriers and providing access. This is about, as one of my colleagues put it, my people who "need it more than we [non-blacks] do, but they won't step into these spaces because, though we mean well, most of us (facilitators) look like the oppressor. So much harm has been done; we may not be the right ones to walk you through the healing of your collective experience of those who look like us." That conversation was the beginning of my understanding that many non-black facilitators, despite their best intentions, can't facilitate for black people. Still, it's a missing link to the black experience that often leaves us unable to fully immerse ourselves in these sacred healing experiences.
Repeatedly, my black clients reiterate how long they've wanted to experience plant medicine healing and how they've been researching but don't know who to trust to provide them with accurate information. They never fail to express how reassuring it is to see someone who looks like them in this arena. It's a privilege to hold sacred space for them, with or without the medicine. Because yes, I'm great at what I do, but also, "I get it" on a level that transcends mere competency.
We deserve authentic spaces that are tailored to our unique experiences and needs. We deserve nurturing spaces where we can be seen and heard without having to explain our cultural nuances or ourselves. We deserve genuine spaces where we can connect with like-minded individuals without feeling the need to be guarded or code-switch. We deserve compassionate spaces where we can explore and expand our healing journeys without fear or apprehension that our vulnerabilities will be taken advantage of. We are worthy of being gently held as we grow through our healing processes. We are worthy of having spaces where our voices are heard and amplified as we unravel the shackles of personal and societal trauma and learn to step into who we were always meant to be before life and society interrupted our evolution.
In short, we deserve the same quality of space that we, too often, provide for others with little thanks, recognition, or reciprocation. Considering the way we stay saving the world... (IYKYK), we need to put that energy right back into ourselves. While I'm open to working with everyone, my heart and focus, with this sacred plant healing work, are firmly with us.
So I said all that to say, this time around, as I expand my sacred plant healing services, I'm betting on black all the way.
✊🏿✊🏾✊🏽✊🏼