Smudging in Healthcare: A Step Toward Cultural Reconciliation or a Missed Opportunity?
When I first heard about Nova Scotia Health’s new provincewide smudging policy, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of optimism and skepticism. On the surface, it’s a significant move—a healthcare system acknowledging and accommodating an Indigenous cultural practice like smudging. But as I dug deeper, I realized this isn’t just about smoke and sage; it’s about power, cultural reclamation, and the messy process of reconciliation.
The Policy: A Necessary Step or a Band-Aid Solution?
Nova Scotia Health’s policy aims to provide clear guidelines for healthcare workers to support patients who wish to smudge—a ceremony where the smoke from burning traditional medicines like sage or tobacco is believed to cleanse negative energy and carry prayers. Personally, I think this is a step in the right direction, but it’s also a reminder of how far we still have to go.
What makes this particularly fascinating is the tension between cultural practices and institutional rules. Until now, smudging has been lumped under tobacco policies, which prohibit open flames in hospitals. This raises a deeper question: Why has it taken so long for healthcare systems to recognize the importance of Indigenous ceremonies? In my opinion, it’s a symptom of a broader issue—the marginalization of Indigenous cultures within Western institutions.
The Human Side: Stories That Drive Change
One thing that immediately stands out is the personal story of Shawnee Sylliboy, a Nova Scotia Health Indigenous consultant. She had to fight to smudge with her dying, non-verbal sister. This isn’t just a policy issue; it’s about dignity, respect, and the right to practice one’s culture in moments of vulnerability.
What many people don’t realize is that smudging isn’t just a ritual—it’s a lifeline. For Indigenous peoples, it’s a way to grieve, ground themselves, and connect with their spirituality. From my perspective, this policy isn’t just about accommodating a practice; it’s about acknowledging the humanity of Indigenous patients.
The Practicalities: Safety vs. Cultural Sensitivity
The policy includes practical measures like ventilating spaces, turning off fire alarms, and avoiding open oxygen. While these are necessary safety precautions, I can’t help but wonder: Are we overcomplicating things? Jeff Ward, general manager of Membertou Heritage Park, makes a great point when he compares smudging to birthday candles. If we can manage 90 candles on a cake, why is a smudge bowl such a challenge?
This raises another issue: the policy encourages the use of sage over sweetgrass, cedar, or tobacco. While I understand the reasoning—sage is less likely to trigger smoke alarms—it feels like a compromise. What this really suggests is that even in accommodating Indigenous practices, Western institutions still dictate the terms.
The Broader Implications: Reconciliation or Tokenism?
If you take a step back and think about it, this policy is part of a larger conversation about reconciliation. Sylliboy describes it as a “journey back to who we are as a people.” But is a policy enough to reclaim a culture that was systematically erased?
In my opinion, this is where the real work begins. A policy is a start, but it’s not the end. What’s needed is a fundamental shift in how healthcare systems view and value Indigenous knowledge. A detail that I find especially interesting is the role of Indigenous patient navigators like Jennifer Crossman, who have been filling the gaps left by the lack of clear guidelines. Their work highlights the resilience of Indigenous communities, but it also underscores the failures of the system.
Looking Ahead: What’s Next for Cultural Reconciliation?
This policy is a step forward, but it’s just one step. Personally, I think the real test will be in its implementation. Will healthcare workers embrace it, or will it be seen as another bureaucratic hurdle? Will Indigenous patients feel truly seen and heard, or will this remain a token gesture?
What this really suggests is that reconciliation isn’t a one-time event—it’s an ongoing process. It requires listening, learning, and, most importantly, letting go of control. As Ward hopes, maybe this policy will lead to more meaningful consultations with Indigenous communities. But in the end, it’s not just about policies; it’s about attitudes, respect, and the willingness to change.
Final Thoughts: A Moment of Reflection
As I reflect on this policy, I’m reminded of the power of small actions. While it’s not a perfect solution, it’s a start. But it also raises a provocative question: What else needs to change? If we can accommodate smudging, why not other Indigenous practices? Why not a deeper integration of Indigenous knowledge into healthcare systems?
In my opinion, this policy is a mirror—it reflects both progress and the work that remains. It’s a reminder that reconciliation isn’t just about policies; it’s about people, culture, and the courage to reimagine systems that have long excluded Indigenous voices. And that, to me, is the most important takeaway of all.
