In August 2018, Coshikox, a collective organization of Shipibo-Konibo and Xetebo peoples, gathered in Yarinacocha, Peru to discuss their concerns about the effects of foreigners’ encroachment in the Amazon.

Shipibo-speaking attendees, whose traditional plant medicine practices include use of visionary plants and brews such as ayahuasca, voiced concerns and ways to take action to protect their cultural heritage and ways of life.

The gathering resulted in the creation of an 8-point declaration consisting of steps to improve awareness and encourage action to ensure that these groups retain their rights to their land and maintain authority to carry forward the practices of their ancestors. (See original Spanish version here).

A summary of the points of the declaration:

• • Indigenous peoples’ struggles for sovereignty cannot be separated from the work of healing; everyone who is engaging with these ancestral practices is asked to be aware of this and to “contribute to the struggle for cultural, economic and social self-determination.”
  • Knowledge of plant medicine and healing practices are “anti-colonialist” in nature and must be fortified as a form of resistance.
  • The coalition is asserting the identity of indigenous practitioners of healing as “onanya” meaning “the one who knows.” The words “shaman” and “shamanism” are imported terms that “do not apply historically to our culture.”
  • There is concern about “cultural appropriation” and the training of foreign apprentices, specifically because this diverts elders’ resources away from indigenous youth, whose economic circumstances put them at a comparable disadvantage to be able to commit to apprenticeships.
  • Declarants are asking for more resources from visitors who engage with Amazonian ancestral healing practices to be directed to support indigenous youth. They will investigate a mechanism by which foreigners can make direct contributions towards this goal. Specifically, they would like to finance a school for young people to be educated in “plant medicine, politics, and art as well as in digital, vegetal and spiritual technologies.”

The catalyst for the gathering was the murder of Maestra Olivia Arévalo Lomas, an 81-year old grandmother and well-respected onanya, by a Canadian tourist in April of 2018.

Killings and death threats are not a new occurrence for indigenous people who are outspoken or choose to defend their land against dominant extractive forces, such as the palm oil industry, in the case of communities in the Upper Amazon.  

However, for communities already burdened by having to resist material extraction from their territories, these additional concerns about “spiritual extractivism” have necessitated action to address these newer repercussions.

In the case of “spiritual extractivism,” ancestral knowledge is what is being separated from the people and places that have stewarded its development.

The notion of “taking” may not sit well with sincere seekers who consider themselves to have made fair exchanges for healing experiences. The reality is far more complex, however, and we must take into account the greater context, in which communities in the Global South have found themselves facing a sudden surge in tourism from the Global North.

If you have a passport, and the ability to get on a plane and fly across international borders, you hold significant power in comparison with people living in impoverished or subsistence contexts. These dynamics have real effects on intercultural interactions, even if not explicitly discussed.

People with good intentions cannot simply ignore the impact of their actions. For those of us who have engaged in or are considering “spiritual tourism” to South America (or any other place) in order to have experiences with visionary plants or fungi, we should ask ourselves some questions about how we can incorporate what we are being implored by indigenous groups to consider.

• • Is collective healing really happening when we leave without understanding or acknowledging the daily lived reality of indigenous people’s struggles for sovereignty and their resistance to the economic forces irrevocably altering which knowledge and practices remain viable to pass down?

• • What does true reciprocity look like? How can we be responsible and accountable to indigenous people who have voiced concern about our effects on their communities and cultures? How can we reduce harmful impact?

• • How can we include indigenous voices and perspectives in the discourse that happens in our Western ayahuasca-using communities, at our gatherings and conferences, and in our publications? How can we prioritize these perspectives even when we have not made it possible for indigenous people to be present?

We must all be in dialogue within our communities, and more directly with indigenous people, to see what actions should (and should not) be taken. We must continue to think critically about the realities imposed by coercive imperialist/capitalist forces around the world and how our actions and inactions facilitate and enable the suffering of other beings.  

Commenting on the importance of this, Kathleen Harrison, Founder and Director of Botanical Dimensions told me, “A landscape and its layers — ecological, cultural, and spiritual —are a richly woven fabric when intact, alive. Yet when indigenous knowledge is broken or displaced, the whole pattern frays. These medicines we now cherish hold the very question, if we dare look: What is the true cost of soothing our own fevers?”

We who benefit now from the sacrifices made by the ancestors of other cultural groups to preserve their knowledge and traditions, and whose descendants continue to hold this knowledge under duress, can take it upon ourselves to actively seek out real and meaningful ways to be in reciprocity with indigenous people. And we can also make choices to disengage in contexts in which we are uncertain of what harm may be caused.

If we truly believe in the positive transformational power of visionary plant experiences, we must support each other to make real social change happen, less this transformation stagnates at the individual level.

There are no easy answers. But we also cannot cover our ears to mute the voices of people who are asking to be heard. It’s time to listen. 

Consent: to give assent or approval: agree (Merriam-Webster)

Legal definition of consent: compliance in or approval of what is done or proposed by another; specifically: the voluntary agreement or acquiescence by a person of age or with requisite mental capacity who is not under duress or coercion and usually who has knowledge or understanding (Merriam-Webster)

Enthusiastic consent: Consent is a mutual verbal, physical, and emotional agreement that happens without manipulation, threats, or head games… It is not just a verbal “yes” or “no” – it involves paying attention to your partner as a person and checking in with physical and emotional cues as well (yesmeansyes)

It is clear that this concept has been too often misunderstood, throughout history and across many contexts, ranging from professional- in the case of scientific fields such as medicine- to personal.

This misunderstanding shows up especially and egregiously in the realm of sexual encounters.

Consent is really pretty simple but also apparently complicated, due to our inheritance of a messed up culture.

Perhaps you’ve had a realization once (or a few times) about how culture influences you to do some things you’re not stoked about.
Maybe a lot of things. Maybe some things you would rather not have done at all.

 

Let’s look at Research.

In psychedelic studies, as in other medical studies, patients are required to give consent to the procedures they undertake.

They sign a form. It asks, “Do you consent?” A patient must affirm “yes,” with a signature, or nothing proceeds.

This form does not say, “Just go with it.”

It does not say, “Come on, it will be better this way.”

Imagine, a doctor telling you these things.

Perhaps you don’t need to imagine…

We have heard (if we’re truly listening) story after story where women (and all genders) have been coerced into sexual activity they did not enthusiastically consent to.

 

Then we inevitably hear the following:

“They could have said ‘no.’ ”
“They could have walked away.”
“They could have (FILL IN THE BLANK).”

If you’re saying these things, you seem to have an understanding of how easily and frequently this can happen. That one small variable can have drastic consequences.

It may have happened to you.

Or you may have been the one pushing.

We live in a culture where women (and all genders) regularly face repercussions, up to and including physical violence, for saying no to men.
For challenging their authority or self-image.

For saying things they didn’t want to hear.

For not smiling at them.

Is it any wonder that for some people, “no” might be extremely complicated?
Add personal histories of trauma to the mix. Just one trauma. Or maybe a few. Maybe a lifetime’s worth.

There are a lot of reasons we might not say “no.” That we might “just go with it.”

Trauma is a thing that medical professionals claim to understand. They study and attempt to treat it.

So now we want to talk about equity in psychedelic studies…

We cannot start that conversation without acknowledging that the people we are personally closest to- our intimate partners, friends, and family- have dignity equal to our own.

How do medical professionals working with psychedelics expect to treat patients with respect, to hold a holistic understanding of their histories, to see and respond appropriately to nuanced human interaction- especially with people in altered states- when we can’t even agree on what non-coercive consent looks like with the people we have intimate physical contact with?

We can’t separate our professions from our personal lives. What are those in the field of psychedelic medicine professing to uphold in terms of values? Aren’t doctors to “First do no harm”?

Why would that only apply within four white walls?

We cannot refuse to look at problems of consent in sexual encounters and then claim that we can, in all other instances, be careful with others’ bodies.

We cannot begin to understand complex group histories of trauma systemically perpetuated by the medical profession if we can’t come to an understanding around our own personal histories with consent and coercion.

As professionals who have the responsibility of administering psychedelic medicines, you bear a responsibility to be beyond reproach in your treatment of human beings in all settings.

As anyone with the privilege to speak and be heard, anyone heralding psychedelics as catalysts of cultural and personal change, if your intentions towards those you interact with are predatory or are not in full consideration of the inherent respect they are due as human beings, hold your hand up high and find help.

Or alternatively, get out of our space.

To anyone who has been hearing or having these conversations for a long time (some for decades), it is now time to bring this dialogue to the forefront, so that real change can finally happen. We can and must support change to happen.

We want real healing, real resolution of traumas both personal and systemic. Not replications of those traumas through continued abuses of power- by medical professionals, by guides and leaders of ceremonies, by “visionaries” or “champions” for The Cause!, by new and seasoned psychonauts careless or eager to take advantage of blurry boundaries.

We want an end to abuse. An end to neglect, to oversight, to ignorance and indifference.

We can’t just go with it. Not anymore. Not in these communities. Not in these movements.

Not in these shared visions for a “better world.”

Time’s up.

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Psychedelic Sisters In Arms was produced in collaboration with Oriana Mayorga.