From Foe to Fae: A Witch’s Entangled Journey

By Drew Campbell

The economy is booming. Stock markets are hitting record highs. Gas isn’t much over a buck per gallon, and the war in Iraq is officially over. No, this isn’t a dream; this was 1995.

Though while so many were experiencing joy, I was just a teen praying to the Virgin Mary as a police officer dragged me out of my childhood home. I can’t begin to explain how traumatizing this was, nor will I digress, but it led me to question what I believed about God.

Questioning God’s identity was not something new to me. Growing up in a Protestant household I was taught about the greatness of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I remember asking my parents why God was male (after all, how could a man give birth?) to which they would say that God is genderless. I asked why we then called the Spirit “Father” and “He” rather than an androgynous term...They could never answer that one. At the same time I had been experiencing God for many years in a different way. I spent most of my childhood outdoors where I connected with the elements of Nature. My family owned 40 acres of land and my brother and I explored every inch of it. There was a big forest, a pond, a marsh, historic wells, and so much more. While we spent a lot of time playing outside I also spent a lot of time exploring alone, meditating (before I even knew what meditation was), and “playing” with the elements.

I spent so much time mimicking birds and other animals that I began to deeply connect with their energies. I whispered to the wind and he whispered back. I wished to the well and she listened. I stood towards the sun and knew God. I began to realize that God wasn’t our Creator; God was the Creation.

In elementary school I also played with plants. I had a marigold sitting on my desk at school. One night I dreamt of this plant falling on the floor. It was a vivid and terrifying dream. When I arrived in class the next day I found the marigold on the floor – exactly how I’d dreamt it the night before.

Had my dreams forecasted the future? Had my sleeping self traversed space to experience this event as it took place? Regardless of what occurred, the way it transpired could not have been mere coincidence. It led me to believe that there was more to this existence than what was taught in science books. Flash forward...back to 1995. I listened to Michael Jackson sing “You Are Not Alone” and I felt more alone than ever. I’d been rejecting so many “fundamental truths” (and the authority that people exploited from these “truths”) that my parents had given up on me. I was put into State’s custody and spent the next year moving through 15 different foster homes.

When a snowy La Niña winter arrived in Vermont I was stuck enjoying Nature through a television set. It was then that I stumbled upon a cable show about Witchcraft. I was mesmerized by a crunchy mystical-looking woman who talked about working with the energies of Nature and celebrating the wonders of the Earth. She called this practice “Witchcraft” and her religion “Wicker”. I was so overjoyed about finding people who shared my beliefs (even if only through the tube) that I immediately began telling my ninth grade pals that I was a member of the “Wicker” religion. Of course nobody knew what that was, so many inquired further. It wasn’t long before someone asked, “Don’t you mean Wicca?”

I started to question myself. The woman on TV had a strong accent; did I mishear her? Being just 15 I had not yet found comfort in humility, so I staunchly denied it. Though true to my questioning self, I set off on a quest to find out everything there was to know on the topic.

Weaving the Web

During this time I explored many different religious paths. The Abrahamic paths were the most available to me. I went to Catholic churches and just about every kind of Protestant church – including those of the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Mormons. Each had their own way of connecting with God but I couldn’t strongly relate to any of them.

Meanwhile I continued to find comfort in Nature. I climbed trees in my backyard and spent hours amazed by their strength and their energy. With my spirit grounded in their roots I became stronger. I sat on the shores of a nearby river and meditated on the rushing water. The river took away my fears and carried my prayers to the ocean. Nature always answered my prayers and I came to realize the true power of its magic. This was my religion.

Anthropologist Margaret Murray suggested in 1921 that Witchcraft may be based on ancient religious traditions, but famous occult author Gerald Gardner was the first to publicly claim he practiced such a tradition. His 1954 book Witchcraft Today claimed he’d been part of a coven that met in the New Forest area of England. Gardner himself admitted that he’d added material to their practices to form his works. His presentation of Witchcraft was a patchwork of ideas but he was largely responsible for founding the basis of traditions we call “Wicca” today.

(While it could be pronounced “wicker” in certain dialects) Wicca is commonly pronounced “wick-ah” in the present day. The use of this term was introduced to modern culture by Gerald Gardner who referred to Witches collectively as “the Wica” (notice one c). While he always called the tradition itself “Witchcraft” he inadvertently coined a term that would be bastardized as time went on.

About fifteen years later, writers started spelling Wicca with two C’s. The reason was likely to justify the ancient links of this faith – for the Old English wiċċa was used as early as the Laws of Ælfred (circa 890 CE) to refer to witches (notice small w) and this is where most etymologists believe the word witch comes from. The double C produces a “ch” sound in Old English, making “witch-ah”.

However wiċċa was just the masculine variant; a female witch was called a wiċċe. The pronunciation was slightly different, using the “eh” sound as in “bed” to say “witch-eh”. I find it strange that a religion often focused on the Goddess (but egalitarian at best) adopted the male term “Wicca” as its name. There are even cases in Old English where wiċċe was used universally, though this is probably because persecutors viewed witchcraft as a female problem.

In the 1970’s, people began using the term “Wiccan” as an adjective (as in “the Wiccan way”) and a noun (“she is a Wiccan.”) Interestingly wiċċan was a plural noun in Old English (meaning “Witches”) in the same way ox is now pluralized as oxen.

The origins of “Wiccan” traditions and lingo are often debated, but this discussion doesn’t belittle its power. It is a path that’s both old and new. Today’s Witchcraft pays homage to rituals and customs that began thousands of years ago, but also allows for reinterpretation based on our own understandings and the creation of entirely new traditions to fit our present-day needs and desires.

...Back to 1996. It wasn’t easy finding other Witches in Vermont. I couldn’t find them on the Internet, but the web was still in its infancy. That wasn’t going to stop me though; the Scots were cloning sheep with their technology, so it didn’t seem like such a daunting task to use my PC to connect with other Witches in Vermont.

I created my own webpage and networked without end. It wasn’t long before we’d formed a group, Vermont Open Circle of Wicca & Wicce, and began meeting sporadically for rituals. Online I also became friends with the heads of the Witches’ League for Public Awareness (or WLPA, which has now transformed into the Witches’ Voice) who helped me tremendously in my efforts.

When Lughnasa (Lammas) approached, I decided to do what any new teenage Witch would do: I went to Salem, Massachusetts. Of course I wasn’t old enough to drive, so my brother and I hitchhiked the 200-mile journey with nothing more than a few bucks and a tent. We slept in the pitched tent amongst a small strip of trees in the city of Medford (which is not the craziest thing I’ve done) and then visited my new friends Fritz and Wren from the WLPA. I haven’t seen them since but their kind words of encouragement have stayed with me.

We hitchhiked the rest of the way to Salem where we visited historic sites and attended a nice Lughnasa ritual on the shore. I met some cool people there and made friends. I also discovered that so many people were attracted to Wicca from a “gothic” mindset and many like selfproclaimed “High Priestess” Laurie Cabot were simply on a power trip. The Natureloving tradition I’d grown accustomed to wasn’t as prevalent there...though I’m not sure why I was expecting to find more in a tourist-trap that got its fame from the killing of witches.

I returned to Vermont with a newfound vision and hope. I wanted to bring Pagans together to show the community that Witchcraft wasn’t the “hocus pocus” of movies, nor was it anything negative or dogmatic. Vermont Open Circle started an annual presentation at the local library called “The Truth About Witchcraft” and the reception was amazing. Our mailing list grew to over 200 people and we formed another arm called Vermont Open Circle Awareness League, or VOCAL.

Coming Home

After several years of organizing, I began to feel like I was falling for the lure of the spotlight. I wondered if I was becoming (or had already become) one of the egodriven entities I’d so despised in Salem. Meanwhile other groups started to pop up across Vermont, so I slowly stepped back from leadership and started attending rituals among Unitarian Universalist circles and various private groups.

In doing so I realized that many groups were heavily influenced by Gardnerian Wicca, and this turned me off. They were too structured, and they were often led by the pseudo-“traditional” roles of High Priestess, High Priest, etc. I see Witchcraft as more of a collective – as I mentioned before, even Gardner’s tradition was a collective of his own, not a written rule – and I didn’t like the power structures that had formed amongst some leaderships. I started to practice almost exclusively solo. Perhaps coincidentally, I began to feel alone again. I started to think about my parents – how they’d begged me to come back home not long after putting me in the State’s custody, how I’d refused out of resentment, and how they’d made efforts to understand me by joining P-FLAG and pursuing family therapy. I began to understand the pain I’d put them through by refusing to come home. It was then that I started to find peace and a stronger sense of humility.

In the late 90’s I became friends with the legendary drag musician Yolanda and began to meet Faeries around Vermont. I wasn’t into drag myself at the time (and maybe I thought that this was an unwritten requirement) so I wasn’t immediately drawn to attending Faerie gatherings. However I found myself spending more and more time with these friends and learning about Fae culture.

When I attended my first gathering at Faerie Camp Destiny I found a group with a good sense of community that was alive with ritual and performance. Over time I found myself going more and more, building friendships, and realizing the magic that is Destiny. I even started playing with drag and realizing its artistic energy.

Rituals there were lively and fun; we weren’t afraid to use songs from pop culture to connect with ritual energy and often Faeries broke out into improvisational song or laughter. This was magic, not from a book, but from our hearts and spirits. This was the magic of Nature; it was my kind of Witchcraft. I fell out of the group at times mostly due to outside influences in my life (from which I’ve learned to never again date a non-Faerie) yet Destiny became a home for me and the family of Destiny welcomed me with open arms. I now find myself there every weekend in the summer. I even let go of my personal boycott of organizing and, now with humility in hand, joined Destiny’s Coordinating Plan-it.

At our last Lammas gathering I worked with a group of Faeries to organize the

Lughnasa ritual. Most of us didn’t like the traditional “Wiccan” dualistic images of the God and Goddess because they oversimplify the spectrum of gender. We decided to shake things up and created a new third entity called “the Spirit of Queer.” We gathered with our sacrificial wicker man “Cornholio” and cast a circle. When we invited the God and Goddess they appeared in the flesh – decked out in the most stereotypical gender-specific attire. Then a transgender Spirit of Queer arrived, laughed at them, and proceeded to rip the clothes from their bodies. Flogger in hand, the Spirit (literally) beat the gender roles out of them. It was both disturbing and beautiful.

This was followed by awesome fire effects which culminated in the burning of Cornholio. As we sang and danced around him I stared at the burning figure and thought about the awesome community I am a part of. The Faeries honor rituals of times past while developing new ways, even new deities, that transform our traditions. It is revolutionary. It is evolutionary; the way Nature intended. It is true living, breathing Witchcraft.

Witchcraft helped me find peace within myself, in the home I came from, and in the new home I’ve found with the Faeries. The world has changed a lot – the economy sucks, Wall Street is in turmoil, gas prices fluctuate like a bipolar queen, and a second war in Iraq seems like it will never end – yet I couldn’t be happier. This isn’t a dream; it is 2009, and I am home.