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Why Some Black Women Are Turning Away From Christianity And Towards Witchcraft

A large sign with the words “Perfected Worship Center” hangs over a big window in suburban Maryland. Inside the gilded conference room, blue-cushioned chairs coalesce towards an altar. For five years, Yolanda Pelzer stood in front of this pulpit at the storefront, preaching, teaching, and channeling messages for her non-denominational congregation.

“The time is getting closer! Let’s turn to John Chapter 1. Can I just start like that?” Pelzer asked. The parishioners responded with a cry of “Amen!” “In the beginning was the Word and nothing is created without the Word. What are you speaking? What are you believing?” She asked, grabbing a hold of the wireless microphone, and making her way around the illuminated room. She stopped in front of a woman, placing her hand on her shoulder. “You know, I was thinking while I was looking at you, that you’re going to be alright with your mom,” she said. Several times a week, Pelzer preached her message until February 2020 when she closed her church and went online, switching to Youtube and Tiktok. She’s still channeling the word of God, but with tarot cards and other New Age practices.

Pelzer constitutes one of the growing number of Black women who are leaving traditional churches in search of their own spiritual path. Many have found it in what they consider witchcraft. Although the data is scant, studies conducted by Pew Research Center in 2014, suggest that self-identification with witchcraft is rising in the U.S. with nearly 1.5 million practicing witches. Another 2018 Pew Study found that women are more likely than men to hold New Age beliefs such as beliefs in psychics, reincarnation, astrology, and that spiritual energy can be found in objects. 76% of black women were found to believe in at least one New Age belief. This fact reverberates by black women launching hoodoo festivals, growing attendance at Black witchcraft conventions, and the Black Witch University, a school for witches of the African diaspora.

Witchcraft has a long history of empowering marginalized groups – especially women – often resurging during times of social upheaval and alongside feminist movements. “Marginalized people have historically been drawn to magic because witchcraft gives people a source of power and an avenue of actually feeling as though or perhaps even effecting change, in a space where they otherwise don’t feel that way,” said Timothy Landry, an associate professor of Anthropology and Religious Studies at Trinity College. People are becoming increasingly skeptical of the church and Christianity, which is causing people to push back on the church, says Landry. However, many of them don’t want to lose their spirituality which leads them to witchcraft or alternative religions to help them maintain their relationship with the divine, he adds.

Black women across the nation are increasingly reclaiming and embracing witchcraft – practices marked by their focus on divination, spells, manifestation, and other new-age practices. However, from witches to experts, no one seems to agree on an exact definition of a “witch” because there are different types of practices. One common agreement is that the witch is regarded as a symbol of feminine power. “To reclaim the word witch is to reclaim our right, as women, to be powerful,” feminist Starhawk wrote in her book The Spiral Dance.

Modern self-identified Black witches practice many different faiths, with some incorporating their pre-existing beliefs into their practice. They are embracing witchcraft now as a form of self-empowerment, self-expression, and reclamation of black womanhood and beauty, says Yvonne Chireau, a professor of religion at Swarthmore College, and author of Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition. “There’s something in particular about these traditions that have been scorned, that have been seen as the negation of anything beautiful or of value,” Chireau said. “This is inverting that, reclaiming the beauty, the power, the wisdom of the ancestors.”

The rise of the digital age and social media, and the accessibility of information are factors that have paved the way for this to happen, Chireau says. She also notes that these practices are particularly appealing for Black women because they are human-centric – the human is seen as the emissary of the divine in the world – and flexible, leaving room for creativity in one’s practice.

We spoke with three Black women who self-identify as witches about the different ways that they practice their witchcraft. All come from Christian – Protestant, and Pentecostal – backgrounds and shared the same disillusionment with Christianity which led them to witchcraft.


Yolanda Pelzer, 49, Waldorf DC

Pelzer had always reveled in the sanctity of religion. Raised in an Apostolic/Pentecostal home, she frequented the church with her devout grandmother, harboring aspirations of one day becoming a priest. But confusion bubbled when she realized what she appreciated most about God and faith was regarded as evil – of the devil – in her conservative practice.

“Pants was the devil, red lipstick was the devil,” she said. Regardless she trudged on, keeping faith that this was her path. For five years, from February 2015 until September 2020, she ministered at her storefront church, Perfected Worship Centre, with her husband. She quickly became disillusioned when she realized that whilst most people attended church to feel good – as a salve– nobody was changing.

It wasn’t until 2020, after the decision to divorce her husband, that they then decided to close their church. “That was the cataclysmic moment for me when I was like, I cannot do this anymore, I cannot preach this word, I want to know more,” she said. This thirst for knowledge led her down a research-rabbit-hole and at the end of it, she had bought her first tarot deck and started her own Youtube channel.

While Pelzer threw away the rules of Christianity, she kept it as her foundation. For Pelzer, witchcraft is synonymous with freedom and healing, two things that have empowered her. “I get to be me, unapologetically me, and it’s beautiful,” she said. Pelzer’s move from religious to spiritual reflects a Pew study that found that the percentage of Black people who identify as spiritual but not religious rose from 19% in 2012 to 26% in 2017.

The emphasis and encouragement of self-expression is one of the reasons that Witchcraft appeals to Black women. “There’s a lot in terms of these traditions that allow for self-expression. Everyone is unique. You can practice these traditions and add your own thing to it, that’s extraordinarily appealing for black women,” said Chireau. “It’s not a one-size-fits-all.”

Another reason is that witchcraft is human-centered, meaning that you’re responsible for yourself. “I don’t have to tell anybody that God’s not happy because I don’t know. Are you happy with you?” said Pelzer. To her, being a witch entails looking within rather than looking outside of yourself for answers.

The reactions to her transition were mixed. Pelzer’s congregation and her family presumed that she was hurting from her divorce; some thought she had turned to the devil. Pelzer explained that she was following her purpose. “I’m not doing anything demonic; I’ve never been so sure of something in my whole life,” she said.

Her “church” on Tiktok draws over 32,000 followers. She works Tuesday through Friday, making videos, and offering her divination services online. This work is more gratifying than preaching in the church, says Pelzer, adding that after her live streams on Tiktok, her followers always say that they “had church.”

“Everything that we told people was evil, is the very thing that sets us free,” said Pelzer. “Spirituality is not ruled. It’s about freedom, remembering who you are, which is we are limitless. That’s what the church does not give us.”


Osundara Ogunsina, 35, Baltimore, Maryland

Growing up Episcopalian (Anglican), Ogunsina was also heavily involved in her church, from Sunday school and vacation bible school to being an acolyte captain. In college, however, she became disenchanted with the church and its members. “I couldn’t reconcile this belief system and these people acting in this way,” she said. “Not that I didn’t believe in Jesus – just the institution of the church, I started to fall back from.”

This disillusionment by religion, especially Christianity is not uncommon says Landry. “People are becoming increasingly more skeptical of the church and of Christianity – of the ways in which the church has supported and reified white supremacy and patriarchal rule,” he said. “That is causing people to push back on the church.”

For the first time, the percentage of Americans who belong to a church, synagogue, or mosque has dropped below 50% – to 47% – reports a 2020 poll conducted by the Gallup Organization. The decline in membership is tied to the increasing number of Americans who express a lack of religious affiliation. Research shows that between 20% and 25% of U.S. adults are now “nones” (a person with no religious identification). The average age of “nones” is 43, with ⅓ of them being people of color. Overall, research points to the presence of a general disengagement – like Ogunsina – from organized religion.

Fresh out of college in 2008, the Great Recession halted her excitement to explore a new chapter in her life, as she was left unemployed, depressed, and stuck at home with ample time. As an avid fantasy nerd and Harry Potter stan, she hurtled herself deeper into the world of the occult at her mother’s suggestion to read The Secret by Rhonda Bryne. With her friend, she delved into the world of magic, playing around with candle magic and attempting to manifest things on her own.

After graduating from CUNY graduate school in disability studies, she decided to move to Baltimore where she visited botanicás – a store that sells religious and spiritual items. She also attended different spiritual events, like a seance at the Crystals, Candles, and Cauldrons store in 2015, which cemented her departure away from Christianity, and her move towards Ifa, a monotheistic Yoruba-based religion.

She recalls the pungent smell of Frankincense that drifted across the bijou Crystals, Candles, and Cauldrons store. The owner had cleared the store for the evening seance. A solitary table stood in the center of the room, set up as an altar and draped with a white table cloth, burning candles, and a bowl of water to cleanse yourself. Attendees were instructed to wear light colors, so Ogunsina wore a white headwrap. The seance began promptly at 8 pm. The six of them – Ogunsina, her friend, and four other attendees – sat in a semi-circle, with a Babalawo (male priest), draped from head-to-toe in all white, leading the group. They repeated the Our Father prayer and Hail Mary's to attract good spirits. Ogunsina vividly remembers the Babalawo getting possessed and receiving messages directed towards her.

"A spirit that he works with came and possessed him. The spirit will talk to me and was calling me out in Spanish, and I'm like, why do you know my life? Also, why do I understand you ?" she said. "That was kind of pivotal, seeing possession for the first time and feeling what spiritual energy feels like. It was mind-blowing."

A few weeks before this occurred, a tarot reader had told her that she needed to find a new spiritual home – or religion. According to Landry, fear of losing community often prevents people from leaving the church, but witchcraft provides that community in other ways. It creates a space for people, typically oppressed people, to feel like they can maintain their relationship with the divine without participating in structures they don’t want to engage in, like white supremacy and patriarchy in the church, Landry says.

That moment at the seance opened up a world of possibilities because Ogunsina realized that there was a whole other world of religion that she had no exposure to. Ifa became her new spiritual home. Although Ifa is not necessarily considered witchcraft, her exploration of this religion propelled her further into the world of witchcraft. She likens a witch to a magician – someone who is resourceful and able to use all of the elements of nature to manifest or create whatever it is they're asking for, like a new job or more clients at her store. Now, she is a priestess in Ifa, a tarot reader, and has her own business preparing spiritual baths – a packaged bath comprised of specific herbs, prayer, and incantation for purification purposes.

"For me, this is a lifestyle," she said.


Kai Blackman, 41, Philadelphia

Kai Blackman, like Osundara Ogunsina, was heavily involved at her Methodist church – children’s choir, assistant secretary for Sunday school, and vocation bible school in the summer. The only difference is that her grandmother forced her to go – physically she was present, but mentally she was always elsewhere. Raised in North Philadelphia, Blackman attended private school, where most of the other students were wealthy. She questioned God’s love and why – if he loved her so much – didn’t she live like that? “I always felt like something outside of me had control. If you’re not their [God’s] favorite, you just don’t get anything in life,” she said. “I always felt hopeless.”

After her divorce in 2007, she stumbled upon a tarot reader in South Florida who predicted that her legal battle would turn out favorably, although she had not told her about the situation.“I believe that moment was put on my path to catapult me into something else,” said Blackman. That something else ended up being the world of meetup.com, where, in search of like-minded individuals she excitedly joined tarot, voodoo, and astrology groups. She also purchased her first tarot deck, books about tarot, and her first pendulum. This was a pastime until her friend gifted her The Secret in 2013 and she tried her hand at manifesting – bringing something tangible into your life through attraction and belief – for the first time.

Blackman had a brand-new Nissan at the time, which was towed because the battery died. To her surprise, the manager at the dealership caught her attention. Immediately after their encounter, she went home and Googled “How do you get someone to text or call you?’ The Google-generated answer was: the law of attraction – the idea that you can manifest your deepest desires with the power of thought. So, she imagined getting a text message from him and a phone call, making sure to imagine what his voice would sound like on the other end of the phone.

When Friday came, and it was time to see him again, she waltzed into the Nissan dealership in Fort Lauderdale in a lilac bodycon dress unscathed by December's chill. While endeavoring to sign the paperwork and pay for the services, the manager stood so close that her hands trembled. She couldn't write her name, nor could she get her debit card pin right. When she finally signed and completed everything, he handed her his card with his number and invited her to a party that he was hosting on Saturday. Soon after, they started dating.

That day marked the beginning of her unbridled dive into witchcraft and her belief in her ability to change her life. Witchcraft isn’t about spells and potions to her, but more about being consciously aware of her power and ability to create her own reality through imagination, visualization, positive self-talk, and positive thoughts. A witch is someone who conjures and attracts things into their life, says Blackman.

Based on this notion, Blackman believes that you are responsible (or have manifested) all the bad relationships, jobs, and situations in your life. “I have no one else to blame. When I was Christian, I always blamed God, and now I can’t,” she said. This realization and newfound belief system allowed her to take responsibility and hold herself accountable for situations in her life.

Witchcraft is very healing because it allows you to investigate who you are and what you’re capable of doing says Lilith Dorsey, a magic practitioner since 1991 and author of Orishas, Goddesses, and Voodoo Queens: The Divine Feminine. “We can take control of our lives when for so long, we have a huge ancestral history of not being allowed to do that,” she said.

Although this path has been empowering for Blackman, it also shed light on how much she lacked in terms of self-love. To manifest, you have to believe you are deserving and worthy of that thing. Hence, she began to focus on the importance of self-love which kindled her journey towards self-assurance and acceptance. Now, Blackman doesn’t subscribe to any religion but often dabbles in Ifa, Voodoo, and Hoodoo. “Christianity is basically saying, just put your all in Jesus – let Jesus do everything,” she said. “This path I got to take the reins.”


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