“This place has good ubi”: A Community-led chiropractic clinic for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people

For many people, the simple act of bending to tie a shoe or turning to look over a shoulder can become a source of deep, persistent pain. Musculoskeletal pain, which affects the muscles, bones, and joints, is a leading cause of disability worldwide. In Australia, this type of pain places a heavy burden on individuals and the healthcare system, with back and neck issues being particularly common. However, for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, accessing care for these conditions is often complicated by more than just physical symptoms. Historical and ongoing social inequalities, combined with experiences of racism and a lack of cultural safety in mainstream medical settings, have created a barrier that keeps many from seeking help. When healthcare feels unwelcoming or dismissive of a person's culture and identity, trust erodes, and people may delay or avoid treatment entirely, leading to worse long-term health outcomes.

The question of how to build a healthcare system that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people can trust and use effectively has driven a new approach in the town of Logan, Queensland. Researchers and community leaders have been exploring whether a clinic that is led by the community itself, rather than an outside institution, can change the experience of care. This approach relies on the idea that when Indigenous people control the governance and culture of a health service, it becomes a place where they feel safe, respected, and understood. The goal is not just to treat pain, but to create an environment where healing can happen through connection, cultural integrity, and mutual respect.

In this spirit, a partnership was formed between a university chiropractic program and the Logan District Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Corporation of Elders. Together, they established a student-run chiropractic clinic designed specifically to serve the local Indigenous community. To understand if this model was working, a team of researchers, including Indigenous and non-Indigenous scholars, conducted a detailed review of the clinic's first years of operation. They looked at the records of every patient who walked through the door and, more importantly, sat down with community members to hear their stories in a traditional conversational format known as a yarning circle. This method allowed participants to share their experiences openly, guiding the conversation with their own priorities and insights.

The review of the clinic's records revealed a clear picture of who was coming for help and what they needed. Between August 2023 and March 2025, the clinic saw 1,126 consultations from 112 different patients. Of these patients, 80 percent identified as Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander. The most common reasons for visiting were pain in the lower back and pain in the neck, which together accounted for the majority of the cases. The students, working under the close supervision of experienced clinicians, provided treatments that included soft tissue therapy, manual adjustments, and exercises. The sheer volume of visits suggested that the community was willing to engage with this new form of care, but the records alone could not explain why.

To uncover the deeper reasons behind this engagement, the researchers gathered 19 Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander participants for five separate yarning circles. These sessions were held in a relaxed setting where everyone sat in a circle, and the conversation flowed naturally, covering everything from the quality of the treatment to the feeling of the space itself. The participants shared that the clinic was different from any other medical place they had visited. They described it as a place of "good ubi," a local term meaning a feeling of comfort, safety, and belonging. Unlike sterile hospital waiting rooms where people felt like just another number, the Logan Clinic felt like a community living room. Elders were present, food and tea were available, and people could stay for hours, not just for treatment but to connect with others.

A central theme in these stories was the vital role of trust. Participants explained that they felt safe because the clinic was governed by the Elders, who ensured that cultural protocols were respected and that the environment was welcoming. This cultural safety was not an add-on; it was the foundation. The supervising clinician was a known and trusted figure in the community, and his presence reassured patients that the students were being guided by someone who cared about their well-being. This relationship extended beyond the treatment table. People felt comfortable enough to open up about their problems, and in some cases, the students noticed other health issues, such as skin conditions or signs of serious illness, leading to referrals that saved lives.

The participants also spoke about the physical benefits they experienced. Many reported that their pain decreased and their ability to move improved after regular visits. One person described the clinic as a weekly checkpoint that allowed them to get back to work and their daily life. Others noted that the care helped them feel better mentally, reducing the stress and anxiety that often accompany chronic pain. The clinic was seen as a place where the whole person was cared for, addressing not just the body but also the social and emotional needs of the community.

Despite the overwhelmingly positive feedback, the researchers noted that the clinic faced some practical challenges. Some community members struggled to get to the location due to a lack of transport, and the physical space was sometimes too small to accommodate the number of people who wanted to visit. There were also occasional differences in personality between students and patients, but these were minor compared to the overall sense of connection. The participants emphasized that the clinic was a place where people came first, and business second, a philosophy that made all the difference.

The study concluded that a community-led, culturally governed model of care can successfully support engagement and trust among Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. The findings suggest that when healthcare is delivered in a way that respects Indigenous ways of knowing and doing, and when it is underpinned by strong community leadership, it becomes a powerful tool for healing. The Logan Clinic demonstrated that cultural safety and clinical care are not separate things; they work together to create an environment where people feel safe enough to seek help and stay engaged. This approach offers a promising path forward for improving health outcomes, showing that the way care is delivered is just as important as the care itself.