How African traditional herbalism is changing my approach to community care

I used to think herbalism was a private practice, something between me, the plant, and my own body. African traditional herbalism taught me otherwise.

In West and Central African traditions and across the diaspora, healing is an act grounded in community. The herbalists' and root workers' knowledge is the medicine we practice in our daily lives, in relationship. In the gathering. In the passing of a cup from one hand to the next. In witnessing each other. 

This spring, that lesson took new shape. I began listening closely to Black women and femmes navigating neurodivergence. How they move through rest and community care differently than the wellness spaces built without them in mind. What I'm learning is reframing how I build Maati's Tea Time altogether: less prescription, more invitation. Less "here is the remedy," more "here is the circle, come as you are."

Community, in this tradition, is the healing.

I'm still unlearning the individualism baked into so much of modern wellness. Still learning to trust that a blend brewed for one person is really brewed for a whole lineage: the ancestors who formulated it, the folx who'll receive it, the table it gets poured on.

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