A Pagan Who Wears Manolo Blahniks

I am a 36-year-old Pagan, vegetarian, activist, lay theologian and anthropologist, ecofeminist, and amateur astrologer. I study the Tarot, vote Green when possible, and actively work to lower my impact on Earth.

I also own a home in 1 of the top 5 wealthiest counties in the country, am a happily married hetero, wear diamonds, hold an Ivy League graduate degree, and have a high-powered career. Furthermore, I drive a luxury car (as does my husband), generously donate my time and money to many progressive organizations, have a closet full of designer outfits, and get regular manicures, pedicures, and glam hairstyles.

This “contradiction” has helped me navigate my professional and personal lives in ways that I might not have been able to otherwise. It has also hurt me.

One way it has helped me is that I can maneuver within establishments and weave my magic “from the inside.” Translation: because I don’t conform to people’s misconceived notions, I use their biases to fight stereotypes of Wiccans and Pagans methodically from within.

For example, for a year before I came out of the broom closet, I consulted for an international organization that works to preserve reproductive choice as a basic part of religious liberty. The organization is comprised mostly of devout Protestants, Jews, and Unitarians. We worked closely on several projects, such as a worship committee where I quietly introduced chanting, smudging, inclusive language, and greater religious diversity). By then, they knew firsthand that Pagans can be kind, intelligent, honest, educated, hardworking, and deeply spiritual. Of course, we can also be stubborn, frustrating, quick-tempered, petty, and anything else other human beings can be! =-)

My peers and I have since had many profound and candid theological and philosophical conversations that might not have been possible had I draped myself in pentacles, wore flowing black robes, or perpetuated any other Pagan stereotypes. A now close friend (and ordained Christian minister) observed me and jokingly said, “I thought you folks wore black cloaks and worked at the local anarchist book store.” I glibly replied, “Nah, we’re too busy protesting your Harry Potter book burnings.

Another example of how I have weaved my magic from within is when I worked for a large crime victim assistance organization. The program I used to head regularly invoked Jesus Christ at client gatherings despite the fact that many religions, cultures, and creeds make up New York City’s tapestry. I was initially horrified but realized I could again make a difference. So, I quietly introduced the concept of true religious diversity.

By the end of my 5-year tenure, clients, staff, and management stopped invoking particular deities, and were using inclusive language (e.g., “Creator” or “Maker” instead of “God” and “He or She” instead of “He”), and incorporated many religious holidays and traditions in their speeches and festivities. Many clients and co-workers privately thanked me for challenging the convention. That, alone, was worth it.

I highly doubt it would have been possible to manifest that kind of change if people knew or “saw” that I was Pagan at the onset. It stinks to concede there are still people who think Pagans are sinister weirdos who drink chicken’s blood and worship the Devil.

The most painful way my “contradiction” backfired was when my own kind discriminated against me. One priestess called me a “poseur” after noticing the watch I wore at her circle (a worship service). A poseur. As if my faith, experience, and commitment are not real because of my accessories. Paganism is a religion of diversity and personal accountability. Why would a fellow Pagan balk at something as inconsequential as how I tell time?

Perhaps she was trying to clutch the uniqueness that defines us? Maybe she thought I was an interloper? Perhaps she was offended I looked like “the other side”? I’m not really sure why Pagans discriminate against other Pagans but it happens to me often. Most people who read the first paragraph of this article, but missed the title, would assume the second paragraph reads something like “I wear Birkenstocks, live in a commune, am bisexual, wear crystals and beads, and buy clothes at thrift shops.” Well,I don’t. I regularly develop and renew my spiritual commitments. My consumerism (that I work to ensure is responsible) does not change or contradict that.

Discrimination, in all its ugly forms, hurts and divides all people of faith. Many Pagans purposefully left behind intolerance and rigidity when we embraced this spiritual path. What draws us together is the love in our hearts, our personal experiences, and our work with the Divine – not our common backgrounds, intelligence, economic status, race, nor alleged lineage. Indeed, that’s at the core of most religions. What we wear and how we speak, get to work, or spend our money is irrelevant.

Nature proves that healthy ecosystems require diversity. So, diversity is an intrinsic element of Paganism that allows individuals to share talents and gifts with the whole. As Pagans, we are called to embrace diversity. Our unity must go beyond national privilege, religious background, gender, culture, complexion, and social class. In my opinion, clergy should particularly be welcoming of all who seek, whether they come to one circle or all and certainly regardless of their accessories!

At the end of the day, I am a Pagan who wears Manolo Blahniks. That doesn’t make me less of a Pagan nor better than a Pagan someone who wears PayLess. It just makes me different. Remember, a healthy ecosystem REQUIRES diversity. Who are we to refute Nature?