Is That A Pointed Hat or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

You know you're a Witch if...?

I can’t tell you how warm and fuzzy it feels to see your longtime-controversial faith getting some positive, explorative press without “ooky spooky” in the headlines, especially during Samhain/Halloween. It’s wonderful!

It really wasn’t that long ago when we had to keep our pentacles to ourselves due high risk of  persecution.  True, the hunts no longer apply physical torture, rape, burning, and hangings, but the mental and emotional screws kept turning centuries after and still. I almost won a discrimination lawsuit against a potential employer once, after I had spent over an hour with the EEOC clerk explaining what Wicca was so they could add it to their database…

People fear what they don’t understand, especially if they think it takes away their sense of power. That simple. It’s that mentality that made it take so long for women to get the vote. But, that’s a different discussion…

But, back to the point, I’m so grateful that I’ve witnessed in my lifetime, with loving thanks to their Highnesses’ Starhawk and Laurie Cabot and the like, that we children of the Goddess have been able to come out of the closet with our brooms held high and our public better educated. To see one’s religious symbol fearlessly carved on the stone of a fallen hero and articles on how we pagans/Wiccans celebrate with bread, not human sacrifices fill me with immense joy!

However, there are still those who don’t get it – and that’s okay.

Granted, though we’ve made strides to become an accepted community on the worldwide religious roster, I won’t deny that there’s still more work to be done. There will always be those who acquaint us with some Satan thing or decry that we’re a bunch of man-hating hippies, whatever. (The latter being especially puzzling to me, personally, because I swear sometimes I think I’m a gay man trapped lovingly packaged in a woman’s body…) But, if someone asks me a question about The Goddess or what She means to me, especially if it’s in earnest to try to understand, I am always delighted oblige.

The mere fact that someone’s willing to try to understand is always worth its weight in sunshine. I love these people.

Of course, there are “others.”

These are the ones that try to be cute, annoying, facetious, or just revel in their own dumb at your expense. As a member of the Community, I still do everything in my power to maintain my dignity and show these people the same courtesy – after all, if you want respect, you have to earn it. And I take that principle very seriously.

Still, I am human and sometimes what I say isn’t necessarily what I’d like to say. You know…

Question: “So, are you a good witch or a bad witch?”

I say: “Well, to say you’re a ‘Witch’ is no different than saying you’re ‘Buddhist’ or ‘Christian.’ It’s a title that identifies your religious alignment.”

What I’m thinking: “I live between two beaches…I’m a sand witch.”


Question: “You’re a witch, huh? Where’s your broom?”

I say: “Obviously, the flying broom thing’s a myth. Covens would bring their brooms to gatherings to sweep their tracks so they wouldn’t be found…”

I’m thinking: “I trading it in for a vacuum. They vibrate.”


Question: “Where’s your hat?”

I say: “We don’t wear those, except for fun.”

I’m thinking: “Where’s your brain?”


Question: “Yeah, you’re a witch? Do a trick!”

I say: “I’m a Goddess worshipper, not a dog.”

I’m thinking: “Great idea! Let’s see if I can make you disappear…”


Question: “So, what’s that star you’re wearing? Is that like a Madonna thing?”

I say: “It’s called a pentacle – it’s an ancient symbol used around the world to illustrate the elements, the perfected human, the cycles of life, and protection…”

I’m thinking: “No, I’m a Jew in training. I haven’t earned my sixth point yet.”


Question: “Uh oh! You’re not gonna put a spell on me, are you?”

I say: *shrugging it off* “Oh, please that’s sooooo 17th century!”

I’m thinking: “I just did. I turned you into an asshole.”


And for my fellow Monty fans:

“Yes, I weigh more than a duck and this is my real nose.”

Blessed Be!! )O(



About T. Ray

Writer, visual artist, student, musician, and "armchair nutritionist." She currently resides in Vegas with her jenday conure and two beloved rescue cockatoos. She is a member of the Society of Professional Journalists and the National Society of Leadership and Success (Sigma Alpha Pi). While pursuing her degree in Journalism/Media Studies at UNLV, she continues to contend that all things come down to food and Star Wars. Contact:
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