Cultural Appropriation And Colonization In Magic (And How To Hopefully Avoid It)

In October, Pinrose, a perfume company, will offer its “Starter Witch Kit” on Sephora shelves. The kit comes with nine tiny bottles of perfume, a polished rose quartz crystal, a pack of tarot cards, and a bundle of white sage.

I’m not a fan of gimmicky stuff like this. Packaging is one thing––the only criticism I’d have of a tarot-themed OPI collection would probably be ‘too many reds’––but purporting to sell actual, spiritual practice in order to try to move sample-sized perfumes? That reinforces the pervasive myth that no one is a “real” witch until they own expensive tools and piles of crystals.

That’s not the most serious problem this set has, however. It’s the inclusion of white sage, a plant of great importance to the belief systems of various Native cultures in the region where it used to grow wild and in abundance. At some point, New Age product companies saw a cash market in a plant that was decided to be, by virtue of its geographical origin and the people who use it, somehow more mystical and magical than any other variety of a wildly varied plant. They began harvesting white sage at low or no cost to themselves––it used to grow plentifully in the wild––to the point where it’s become nearly inaccessible to the cultures who have now been unwillingly turned into a marketing gimmick while their own spirituality is ripped away and commodified.

“Almost every culture burns plants as part of their rituals,” some people argue. And they’re right. Burning plants and incense to cleanse and consecrate a ritual is incredibly common among cultures around the world. But a non-Native using this specific plant, buying it from the local New Age shop for six dollars, has a measurable impact on cultures already under attack from colonization. White sage has become harder to find in the wild. Now, the people who used to be able to simply go out and pick the herb they needed for their spiritual practices must buy it, usually from stores owned by serenely smiling white ladies wearing three or more pieces of turquoise jewelry. In other words, someone took a culture from a people, packaged it, and said, “Don’t worry, you can still have it…as long as we can make money off it.”

No one is suggesting that you can’t burn sage as part of a ritual. But don’t buy “smudge sticks”. Make your own, from a different variety of sage and one that is ethically farmed and harvested, if you must. Or, fumigate with different herbs that are, again, ethically farmed and harvested. When I began my practice, I started out with white sage, then switched to Palo Santo because I learned about the appropriation involved and, admittedly, because I really dislike the smell of sage, anyway. But recently, I learned that, like white sage, Palo Santo has become endangered due in part to New Age consumerism, as well as industrial deforestation and use in other commercial enterprises. I’ll use the Palo Santo I have, but I won’t buy more of it, and I’ll urge my witch friends to do the same.

This is just one form of cultural appropriation and magical colonization that take place within Pagan and Witchcraft circles. Issues surrounding appropriation are often pushed off with a twee explanation as to why it’s really all okay. “Nature isn’t divided by color lines!” “Does that mean any not-white person doing Wicca is appropriating from the Ancient Celts?” (I’ll comment on that foolishness at another time). “The Goddess gave these plants to us to use!”

It never seems to occur to white Pagans that perhaps “the goddess”, whichever one they may be using in their argument, may have bestowed gifts upon other cultures that weren’t meant to be shared.

Recently, a friend on Facebook posted a story about someone who does not practice Ifá or any of its associated belief systems, trying to incorporate tarot into an Ifá ritual. Not only does Ifá have a divination system of its own, tarot cards originated in 15th century Europe. Ifá is associated with the Yoruba, Igbo, and Ewe peoples of Western Africa. Trying to replace an integral part of this spirituality with trappings from the very culture that stole its believers and sold them into slavery is yet another form of colonization and, in my view, a direct affront to the deities and spirits associated with Ifá. The same person dabbling with tarot cards and Ifá also allegedly tried to evoke Papa Legba, a loa in Haitian Voudo, into a Wiccan ritual.

When these practices are questioned on message boards or in Facebook groups, the response is often, “There’s no one true way!” or “Don’t police other people’s beliefs!” Framing any suggestion that respect be shown toward other cultures as some kind of religious oppression is a handy way to shame critics and soothe white fragility in magic spaces.

In my most recent post on this blog, I gave a recipe for a cleansing and protection spray that incorporated Florida Water, an ingredient used in some Hoodoo, Voodoo, and Santeria spells and rituals. These spiritual practices arose as a means to preserve and protect the beliefs of colonized cultures, and as such, I don’t believe white people should have any involvement in them. But I’m comfortable using this particular ingredient in my practice. Why? Because as a solitary Witch on my own, eclectic path, I ask myself the following questions before incorporating any new material or ingredient, or before working with any deity or ritual:

• By using this material, am I depriving another culture/marginalized people? If the answer is yes, don’t use it. In the case of Florida Water, it’s a mass-produced cologne made with commonly used and non-culture specific herbs and plants. There is no danger of depleting it as a resource, unlike white sage which, once gone, is gone forever.
• Did the material, ingredient, or practice originate with a specific culture that my own has colonized or oppressed? Again, I compare Florida Water and white sage. Florida Water is a cologne first produced in New York in the early nineteenth century and was intended to be used as such. It doesn’t come from an ancient magical system struggling to survive in the face of colonization, despite being adopted into some of them. The use of white sage, however, originated with the Native cultures of western North America long before European incursion.
• Is the deity I’m evoking or the ritual I’m performing associated with a culture that my own has colonized or oppressed? Hoodoo, Voodoo, and other forms of Gullah magic arose as a way to preserve the traditions and faith of enslaved Africans in the United States. So, why would a white person try to evoke a Loa? Why would a Loa want to help an oppressor of the culture that worships them? If someone did grievous harm to your family, would you want to hang out with them? Would you want to grant them favors, especially when you know they have the power to harm your family again?
• Am I approaching this deity or ritual for honorable reasons? Veneration of Santa Muerte is on the rise in Latin America due to her popularity among the working class and people considered the fringe of society. As a result, such practices have been demonized by the mainstream. Santa Muerte herself is seen as an image of evil and a symbol of drugs, sexual deviance, and crime. Do you wish to make an offering to her because you’ve truly meditated on the meaning and finality of death, the shortness and brutality of the lives of the impoverished and the working class, and the equalization of mortality and decay? Or do you think she looks cool and spooky and you’re feeling particularly Halloween-ish? Are you drawn to her “fringe” appeal and therefore contributing to an unfair cultural narrative?

You may or may not agree with all of my points here. There is rarely a widespread consensus on what does or does not constitute appropriation within the magical community. But in cases like using an endangered plant to make your perfume seem mystical or trying to further colonize a magical culture you had no place fiddling with in the first place? That’s pretty cut and dry.

We should never be averse to questioning ourselves and our practices, nor should we grow angry when asked to learn and adapt to new things. We cannot boast smugly of our enlightenment and connection to the universe if we refuse to examine our own, individual places in it. Cultivating a magical conscience is perhaps one of the greatest ways we can show respect for the divine and care for the world around us.