Their two kids see an acupuncturist as well, though, Black says, "they're not philosophically connected to it. My son is, like, 'This is a crock.' But, as he's saying that, he's changing before your eyes."
BLACK STARTED STUDYING AT TAI SOPHIA in the fall of 2002. It was humbling, she says, to be a stone-cold novice in classes with names like "Touching the Energy" and "Embodying Qi Gong." And learning all the anatomical minutiae of the human body was a challenge for Black because she's dyslexic. "I had to go over and over and over it."
At 58, Sheerie Black has decided she'd rather poke and prod clients as an acupuncturist than as a lawyer.
(Photograph by Pilar Vergara)
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While many of her classmates at Tai Sophia come from medical backgrounds -- massage therapists, physical therapists, dentists -- others range from pharmaceutical salespeople to airline pilots. Founded in 1974, the school is riding a wave of interest in alternative medicine.
The school prides itself on teaching lessons based on the interconnectedness of body, mind and spirit. Robert Duggan, who co-founded the institute and still teaches there, repeatedly tells his classes not to "chase the symptoms" but to treat the patient in a holistic way. "The symptoms are the body's wisdom" is one of his mantras, as is "The pain is a teacher."
When Black graduates next June, she'll apply for certification through the Maryland Board of Acupuncture, allowing her to become one of 740-plus certified acupuncturists in the state. The school reports that alumni working full time are making an average of $72,000 a year.
For now, though, Black is still in "clinic," the final phase of Tai Sophia's program, which requires 250 hours of hands-on, faculty-supervised experience treating patients, 90 hours treating people with addictions in Baltimore and 200 hours of community service.
Clinic rules require that she find her own patients -- real-world training -- and she's managed to persuade Ron Broun, whom she once worked with at the National Labor Relations Board in Washington.
Broun, a recently retired lawyer from Bethesda, has been coming for treatments since March. Many clients are drawn to acupuncture because they want help with a specific ailment -- a stiff back, arthritis, infertility. Black has been practicing her skills on one especially troubled patient who has neck and back pain, numbness in his feet and high blood pressure to boot.
There's not much specifically wrong with 64-year-old Broun, however. "He told me to bring warmth into his life," Black explains. In line with Tai Sophia's holistic approach, Black has been encouraging him, with moderate success, to adopt a healthier lifestyle -- cut down on caffeine and eat better.
During a recent treatment session, held in one of the school's small rooms reserved for clinic training, Black sits down with Broun and starts in with her usual questions: "So how's it going with the coffee?"
"One mug, good-sized," he says, "but I've been good about not filling up again."
Also, he's been trying to eat a bit more for breakfast. "I do feel better," he says.
Black jots down notes. Eventually, she asks him to lie down on a table so she can check his pulses -- first one wrist, then the other -- which practitioners say reveal whether the body is in balance and working harmoniously.
Based on what she hears and what Broun has told her about how he's feeling, Black prepares to insert a series of seven needles into each of four points on her patient's chest. She first marks the points with a purple pen. Then she heats the points by placing little cones of dried mugwort leaves, called moxa, near his skin and lighting the moxa on fire for a few seconds before snuffing it out with her thumb and pinky. She explains that this "warms and opens the point to prepare it for the needle."
She slowly places the needles about half an inch into Broun's chest, points carefully chosen, she says, to move him "from a point of darkness into light."
The success of an acupuncture treatment is hard to measure. "I feel different in a subtle way, it's hard to describe," Broun reports, vaguely, at mid-treatment.
At $60 per session, it's a lot cheaper than psychological therapy. And he adds that he doesn't mind all the attention he gets. His treatment sometimes lasts more than two hours.
But Black expresses confidence that, after four months of her pokes and prods (both physical and verbal), she's guided Broun a little closer to the light. "He has a growing awareness of how he lives his life," Black says. "He's kind of blossoming."
She could say the same thing about herself.
Christina Ianzito is a frequent contributor to the Magazine.
