In with the new, but the old stays

CATAWBA, S.C. — The morning activities here in the first-floor office of the Catawba Nation’s Longhouse are similar to those at any small clinic in America.

Dr. David Brady examines his first patient, 8-year-old Amy Canty, who stares straight ahead as he gently touches the rash on her neck. “Looks like contact dermatitis, an allergy,” Brady explains to her mother. “You’ll need to pick up some 1% hydrocortisone ointment. . . . Bring her back if there’s no improvement.”

At this point, Amy’s mother has a choice: She can follow the doctor’s instructions or she can request a referral to John George, the first official medicine man on the Catawba reservation in 95 years.

It is not unusual to find physicians and traditional healers on the same reservation. What is unique is that in the clinic of the Catawba Nation, a doctor and a medicine man have formed a partnership. They share notes on patients and confer on treatment plans. They respect each other’s healing abilities. “We talk about things,” Brady says. “John recently came to me and said, ‘I have a patient that has a problem, and she wants to try this. Will that be OK? I don’t want to cross her up on what you’re giving her, versus what I’m giving her.’ ”

Since Brady sees most of his patients in the clinic and George’s work is often done out on the reservation, the men realized they needed a way to share information. They designed a form that includes a patient’s history, a health assessment and treatment. One copy goes to Brady. One to George. One is filed at the clinic.

Brady, 38, a North Carolina native, first met George, 51, when the clinic opened in March. While Brady attends patients, George, along with a botany professor from a nearby university, creates a photographic inventory of the medicinal plants native to the area. Roads, sewers and homes under construction on this bustling reservation 20 miles southeast of Charlotte threaten many of the plants. George hopes to move some to safer locations.

Brady says many of the Catawba prefer a medical doctor for their illnesses. They are more accustomed to going to the pharmacy for a prescription than taking herbs. But when it comes to spiritual guidance, Brady says, that’s when the case is fully turned over to George.

A Catawba by birth, George fits no stereotypical image of a “medicine man.” His graying curls are usually covered by a cap. His work clothes are a T-shirt and blue jeans, with a pager clipped to the front pocket. From his left ear hangs a feather-shaped silver and turquoise earring--a gift from a member of the Chitimacha tribe of Louisiana after a recent healing. He carries a strong, sweet fragrance of patchouli oil. “Prevents depression,” he says.

George became a healer or “traditional medicine advisor,” the term he prefers, after a Lumbee medicine man told him he had special gifts. Being a healer is not something you choose to do, George says. “It’s not something that walks up to you overnight. It’s something that builds up over a period of time.” He credits his Creator for his knowledge of medicine.

On the night of the full moon each month, George goes to a clear spot in the woods and prepares a sweat lodge, a hut fashioned from willow branches and covered with cloth. He lays hot rocks inside to raise the temperature. Members of the tribe who seek physical, mental or spiritual healing join him there for sacred and private rituals. The ceremony ends with a plunge into the chilly waters of a stream.

“You go in to build your spiritual strength,” George explains. “This is where you meet your Creator on a one-on-one basis. You may be going in for substance abuse, family problems or problems with something else.”

George knows about problems. A recovering alcoholic, he credits the rituals he used during his stay in a substance abuse clinic on the Cherokee reservation for giving him the strength needed for detoxification. At the Cherokee clinic, he carried a small leather pouch containing some tobacco, dried sage and his pipe. He also had hawk feathers. He smoked his pipe during his morning and evening prayers and burned sage for smudging himself.

A substance abuse clinic with a treatment plan written by George, and open to all Eastern tribes, is planned for the Catawba reservation.

Brady likes to tour the reservation and tell visitors the history of the tribe. He points to the progress made here since the 1993 state and federal settlement that paid $50 million for the land taken from the Catawbas in 1840.

“What I’d like to see in the future is that some of the Catawba kids who are currently my patients train for medicine,” Brady says. “I’d like to see them go off and become MDs and do coyote medicine--that is mix the medical with the medicine man. . . . When one of them returns and says they’ve come to replace me, I’ll step aside.”