Skip to main content

Why Racism is Paganism's Business

Over the past year, I’ve heard a lot of variations on the theme of white Pagans saying they are tired of talking about racism, or don’t see how talking about racism is our business.

Leaving aside the notion that dismantling racism should be the business of people of color, because it affects them most (as opposed to the business of white people, who benefit most, and who hold the most power within our current, systemically racist social structure), I am bothered by the idea that racism is a social ill that’s somehow outside of the legitimate concerns of Pagans–of white Pagans, anyway. We don’t get to be a religion of immanent spirit without caring very much about what happens in the world.

Paganism is, in almost all of its branches, an embodied spirituality; we don’t hold that the world is maya, illusion, and that what happens here doesn’t matter.  We see omens in the wind, altars in one another’s bodies.  To my way of thinking, nothing that is in the world is outside of our concern.
There’s a discussion over at Nature’s Path.  Maggie Beaumont has written an essay on how the Black Lives Matter movement impacts Paganism.  I wrote the following in response to a commenter over there–not to Maggie!–and, while I may not have done her position justice–she has not yet responded, and I may well have misunderstood her–I did want to share the ideas she stirred up in me a little more widely.

I wrote:

You seem to be saying that, since there are few Pagans who make a religion out of racism, and since we don’t proselytize, racism isn’t something we’re responsible for dealing with. It’s something that happens “out there,” and not in our cozy little communities.

But it isn’t something that happens “out there”–and when Pagans of color draw it to our attention, if we white Pagans respond by minimizing what they’re saying, by calling it hand wringing or accusing Pagans of color of making too much of a fuss, we’re actually supporting the overculture’s lie that talking about racism is “divisive” or somehow the problem–that being “race blind” (which usually means white people being willfully blind to racism) is the way to support justice.

It’s not.

Just because a white person puts on blackface without a racist intent–for instance, to evoke a mythological being, as I have seen done–doesn’t mean it doesn’t have racist connotations that are frankly hurtful. When this gets pointed out to us, the correct response is never going to be, “Well, I didn’t mean it that way, so just be quiet, you black Pagans.” It’s going to be, “Damn, I hadn’t thought of that; I won’t do it again, and I’ll pass it on.”

Likewise, groups that insist that only “white people” should be worshipping Pagan gods from the European past may not mean to be racist–but they’re making their racial ignorance very clear. (First, that they actually believe in a biological thing called race, and second, that they either subscribe to the “one drop” rule of what makes someone black or another race than white, or that they are completely historically illiterate regarding the shared European ancestry of most black Americans.)
Calling it “ancestor reverence” and not reflecting on how it fails to welcome people of color is not good enough.

No one is saying white Pagan groups should proselytize people of color. But if we stopped greeting them at the door with ignorant comments–like defending the “all lives matter” backlash to the Black Lives Matter movement–that’d be great. If we stopped suggesting to people of color that they should really be studying Vodoun rather than Wicca–or stop setting ourselves up as experts in living traditions that are not our own, in which we are not trained or initiates (like various Native American religions and practices, or Afro-diasporic religions like Vodoun) that’d be even better.

That’s regarding racism that is enacted within our communities. But I put it to you that confronting racism beyond Pagan communities is very much our business as well, just as GLBT freedom is.

There’s a reason that, as a straight High Priestess, I’ve been active in the gay rights movement for decades now: one of the implications of an embodied spirituality is that I see that each of us is sacred, and all of the forms in which we move through the world are holy and deserving of respect. To my mind, that applies equally to differences in language, culture, and skin pigmentation. How could I look my goddess in the eye if I did not stand up for every one of her children? It is not only the non-human biosphere that is sacred. Human beings–whether or not they are Pagan–are, too.

Egyptian goddess Nut.
To turn my back on racial justice would make me every bit as much a hypocrite as turning my back on environmentalism. I love the Pagan community; I want us to be grown-ups who live up to the implications of our ideals… not a club that protects only our own narrow interests. I think that’s what’s called for when your gods fill all the world.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Peter on Grief and Communities

Well, that was unexpected. For the last year, ever since my mom's health took a sharp downturn, I've been my dad's ride to Florence Congregational Church on Sundays. That community has been important for my dad and the weekly outing with me was something he always looked forward to and enjoyed, so I didn't mind taking him there. It meant giving up attending my own Quaker meeting for the duration, but I had already been questioning whether silent waiting worship was working for me. I was ready for a sabbatical. A month ago, my dad was Section-Twelved into a geriatric psych hospital when his dementia started to make him emotionally volatile. I had been visiting him every day at his assisted living facility which was right on my way home from work, but the hospital was almost an hour away. I didn't see him at all for three weeks, and when I did visit him there, it actually took me a couple of seconds to recognize him. He was slumped forward in a wheel chair, lo...

A Quaker Pagan Day Book: Testimonies and Queries

Pagans often argue about how to define who we are.  What are the boundaries--between Wicca and Witchcraft, between Heathens and Pagans, between polytheists, pantheists, and non-theists...  While I could do without the acrimony, we're a new as well as an old religious movement, so it makes sense that like any adolescent, we are fascinated by questions of identity. I will admit to preferring the Quaker approach to identity, though: rather than trying to create the definitive checklist of belief that make someone a "real Quaker," Friends typically share a body of testimonies and questions for reflection with those who are drawn to the Religious Society of Friends. "Do you feel this same sort of spiritual leading?" Friends ask one another.  "Does this speak to the condition of your soul, as it does to ours?" Queries, not checklists of doctrine, hold the ways Quakers approach discernment, including around membership.  And though no individual can declar...

Fame

(Note: there were so many thought provoking comments in response to this post that it generated a second-round of ideas. You can read the follow-up post here .) I have a confession to make. I want to be famous. Well, sort of. I don't want to be famous, famous, and ride around in a limousine and have to hire security and that sort of thing. I just want to write a book, have it published by somebody other than my mother, and bought and read by somebody other than my mother, and maybe even sign a couple of autographs along the way. Mom can have one autographed, too, if she wants. It has to be a spiritual book. A really moving and truthful book, that makes people want to look deep inside themselves, and then they come up to me and say something like, "It was all because of that book you wrote! It changed my life!" And I would say, no, no, really, you did all that, you and God/the gods --I'm a little fuzzy on whether the life-changing book is for Pagans or for Quake...