My path as a healer began with a truth I could no longer ignore: despite my best efforts to “feel better,” something deeper was calling for attention. Depression, anxiety, and complex PTSD were my early teachers, and in seeking relief I discovered not quick fixes, but the slow work of listening, remembering, and returning to connection.

Arasa Root Works is the outgrowth of that journey — a practice dedicated to helping others reclaim wellness through earth-based care, advocacy, and spiritual guidance.

Roots of Arasa

The name Arasa comes from my Balanta ancestry, discovered through DNA research. In the Balanta language, Arasa can mean “the anger of the lion” and is spoken before a name to mean “Balanta person.” For the Balanta, the lion symbolizes integrity, courage, and guardianship of life.

I do not claim Balanta culture, but I carry this lineage as part of my ongoing journey of self-knowledge within the wider web of life. The lion’s spirit, both gentle and fiercely protective, lives at the center of my practice as a reminder that healing is not only tending, but also guarding what is sacred.

My Journey

I grew up surrounded by the Jehovah’s Witness faith, where questions of mortality and loss felt tightly constrained. My father, grandfather, and much of my family were elders and active members, while my mother eventually stepped away. I was raised in that in-between space — close enough to feel the pressure to belong, but also learning what it meant to step onto a different path.

When my father became terminally ill, I began studying Tibetan Buddhism, which opened me to new ways of facing grief and impermanence. That path led me to hospice volunteering, and later to training as an end-of-life doula. Losing a parent, and sitting with death reshaped me into someone who desired to hold space for others navigating grief, disconnection, or transformation.

My professional life brought me into healthcare, giving me a firsthand view of how easily people fall through the cracks, and the skills to advocate fiercely within rigid and often confusing systems.

Alongside this, I turned to herbalism not only to reconnect with my ancestral roots, but also to return to the shared ancestry of all people: our deep relationship with the plants, the land, the unseen, and the other-than-human beings that sustain us. Through that study and practice, I learned that wellness isn’t found in formulas or institutions alone, but through trust, listening, and reciprocity with the living world.

Teachers and Influences

In addition to extensive coursework through the Herbal Academy and self-study, my work has been shaped and nourished by teachers across lineages:

• Maya Blow, whose seasonal apprenticeship, Deva’s Daughters, grounded my herbal practice in community.

• Olatokunboh Obasi, under whom I studied for two years at the Well of Indigenous Wisdom School.

• Alua Arthur, whose Going with Grace program introduced me to end-of-life doula service and a lifelong community of practice.

I also lived for a year off-grid in rural Idaho. There I immersed myself in wildcrafting, botany, and land stewardship, integrating the lesson of reciprocity and interdependence intrinsic to the wisdom teachings of our ancestors. That time taught me that no matter where I am, I am earth’s child, and its medicine is always present.

Roots and Belonging

I grew up on the Ohlone lands of the San Francisco Bay Area, spending summers with my grandmother, Annie Lois, who wasted no time putting my hands in the dirt of her garden patch in rural Alabama. She also put the book in my hands that would spark my interest in plant medicine - The How-To Herb Book by Velma J. Keith and Monteen Gordon. From that book, Nanny pulled an aloe recipe that healed my acne scars before summer’s end. And it’s the simplicity and accessibility of that book to everyday folks, after which I model the delivery of my services.

Today, I find myself on Zapotec land in Oaxaca, Mexico where I continue to learn from the plants, people, and traditions that surround me. From here, I serve U.S.-based communities virtually, offering support in both English and Spanish.

My Commitment

As a queer, neurodivergent Black healer, I seek to create spaces that are:

• Trauma-informed

• Gender-affirming

• Accessible and inclusive

• Rooted in advocacy and earth-based wisdom

Beyond the Work

When I’m not supporting others on their path to wellness, I find joy in tending my own. You can find me in the garden, playing with my cat Juju and our resident dog Polka, or working with yarn and hook. Crochet is another gift from my grandmother that I’ve cultivated into mastery as a Designated Master Crocheter by the Crochet Guild of America.

My creativity also flows through music, cooking, and in rediscovering the joy of writing, where I share reflections from this journey on my new Substack, The Root is The Remedy.

Me and Juju, at home in Oaxaca

Explore Pathways of Support at Arasa Root Works