How I Found My Way Back Home — My Journey Into Hoodoo
There are some paths you choose, and there are some paths that choose you long before you even realize you’re walking them. Hoodoo was never something I stumbled upon like an aesthetic or a trend. It called to me from places older than memory, from stories whispered through my bloodline, from instincts I didn’t yet have language for.
People will say Hoodoo is “dark,” “dangerous,” “taboo.”
But the truth is — what scares people is not the practice itself.
It’s their ignorance of it, the unfamiliarity, the fear of anything that cannot be neatly explained or sanitized.
The irony is that so many of us Black Americans live our whole lives practicing little fragments of Hoodoo without even realizing it.
Don’t sweep someone’s feet.
Don’t put your purse on the floor.
Don’t raise your hands above your head if you’re pregnant.
Cover mirrors when someone passes.
Throw salt over your shoulder.
These aren’t “just superstitions.”
They are cultural memory — spiritual habits carried down generations, long after we forgot the origin.
Before Christianity. Before the ships. Before America. We were one with spirit.
I believe deeply that before the transatlantic slave trade, before forced conversion, before our families were uprooted, renamed, and reshaped, we lived like many Indigenous peoples — in harmony with our spirits, our natural world, and our ancestors.
We did not see the earth as separate.
We did not see the dead as distant.
We did not see God as unreachable.
We lived in conversation with the unseen.
My own lineage runs through the Gulf Coast and Lake Pontchartrain, through South Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, and into the original colonies. These places are not random — they are spiritual landmarks in my bloodline, reminders of people who survived the unthinkable and carried their traditions quietly in their bones.
When people ask why I practice Hoodoo, I ask them why they question my faith but not theirs.
No one doubts a Christian’s devotion.
No one interrogates a Hindu person’s belief.
No one challenges a Native person’s ceremony.
So why question Hoodoo?
I am one with this path. I am one with my ancestors. I know the calling on my spirit.
The Moment My Gates Opened
My awareness had always been there — dreams, intuition, feelings I couldn’t explain — but earlier this year, the gates swung open fully.
After performing a ritual that felt like a turning point, I fell into the worst sickness of my life. It was so heavy it felt spiritual. In the midst of my fever, Oya came to me — clear, undeniable, powerful.
It wasn’t fear.
It wasn’t confusion.
It was recognition.
From that moment forward, nothing was the same.
My senses sharpened.
My understanding deepened.
My responsibilities expanded.
This path was no longer a quiet whisper. It was a summons.
Hoodoo Is Not Evil — It Is Legacy
Modern misconceptions paint Hoodoo as harmful or demonic, but that comes from misunderstanding and cultural disconnect.
Hoodoo is:
protection
healing
justice
spiritual balance
ancestral communication
rootwork for survival
Every spiritual system has light and shadow. Hoodoo is no different. But calling something “dark” simply because you don’t understand it is a symptom of colonization, not truth.
Hoodoo is ours. It is cultural. It is historical. It is sacred.
The Weight of Being Called
This path is not glamorous.
It is not trendy.
It is not easy.
Being called into Hoodoo is emotional labor, generational work, and spiritual responsibility. Some days the work is heavy. Some days the business side drains me and my spirit goes quiet. Other days the spiritual calling overwhelms me and I can’t focus on anything else.
But I know this:
I was chosen for it.
Not because I’m special — but because I remained open enough to say yes.
Hoodoo Brings Belonging in a Chaotic World
Modern society has stripped us from our sense of identity:
Corporate culture has numb us.
Politics divides us.
Fear distracts us.
Consumerism disconnects us.
But Hoodoo reminds me — and anyone who feels called — that no matter how chaotic or destructive the world becomes…
Your spirit cannot be taken unless you hand it away.
Hoodoo doesn’t give you control over the world;
it gives you connection, clarity, and grounding.
It roots you in something older, deeper, and more powerful than anything society can break.
This Is Why I Practice
Every candle I dress, every kit I assemble, every prayer I share is connected to this truth:
I honor my ancestors.
I honor my lineage.
I honor my calling.
I honor the past so I can create a better present and future for my children.
Hoodoo is my homecoming.
My remembrance.
My responsibility.
My offering.
And if you are reading this, maybe something in your spirit recognizes the fire, too.
