They’ve called it evil for centuries. But the only evil was how they tried to separate us from it. Hoodoo is not evil, it’s not the devil, and t’s not something to be feared. It’s survival. It’s a way of being.
My great-grandparents, especially my maternal great-grandmother practiced Hoodoo with discernment and protection. They were not conjuring demons — they were protecting the family from a world that was designed to harm us.
The demonization of Hoodoo was never about what we were doing — it was about control.
Enslaved Africans brought spiritual medicine to these lands. They carried the knowledge of herbs, roots, ancestors, spirits, and divination. When forced into Christianity, they didn’t abandon their practices — they blended them, adapting for survival.
And because our power didn’t rely on a pulpit, it became a threat. Because we could pray and pour libations, chant Psalms and burn herbs, sing hymns and work roots — we were labeled dangerous.
But Hoodoo has always been a form of resistance.It is protection, healing, and discernment. It is ancestral intelligence moving through bloodlines that refused to break.
Arthur Rickydoc Flowers, excerpt from LITERARY HOODOO AND THE SACRED TEXT:
One semester one of my undergrads, upon learning that I was a practicing hoodooman, was sorely perplexed. She raised her hand up in class one day and said ‘Professor Flowers, how are you, you know, teaching in a prestigious university, if you, you know, are a hoodooman.’
Boom. Teaching moment. Told her she probably thinking folk magic hoodoo. Spells, spirits and black catbones. Or maybe stage magic. Pulling rabbits out the hat. Explained we talking high magic up in here:
- helping folk cope with life: souleasery
- personal evolution: soulcare / soulwork
- playing w/reality and the divine mind: magicwork
- enhancing the human condition: rootwork
- guide & guardian of human destiny: destinywork
- oneness w / divinity / the great mojo: godwork
Making Real Into The World That Which Was Not. Same same Art. Same same Conjuration
I don’t practice Hoodoo for aesthetics or perform it for entertainment. I speak of it to honor my folks. I live it because it’s mine too. Because my great-grandmother whispered to the Spirit when no one else was listening. Because I was raised with both the Bible and the Florida water. And I never had to choose between the two.
The shame was taught to us. The fear was planted in us. The lie was never ours to carry. This practice is a return home.
Covered by spirit. Guided by blood.
