THROUGH THE NORTH DOOR:

THE INVOCATION OF INVITATIONAL RHETORIC IN WICCAN RITUALS

by

Kayleigh Howald

A Thesis Submitted To The Faculty of

The Dorothy F. Schmidt College of Arts and Letters

In Partial Fulfillment of The Requirements For The Degree of

Master of Arts

Florida Atlantic University

Boca Raton, FL

August 2016

Copyright 2016 by Kayleigh Howald

ii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I wish to express sincere appreciation to my thesis chair, Dr. Becky Mulvaney, for her patience, encouragement, and guidance. Not only throughout the duration of this thesis, but for all the years she has mentored me. I am beyond grateful and now beyond words. I am immensely appreciative of Dr. Bill Trapani: committee member, graduate advisor, and more than occasional savior. Thank you for never allowing us to quit. I also wish to thank my committee member, Dr. Jane Caputi for her helpful suggestions and unwavering support.

I also extend my gratitude to my loving support systems. To Kaitlin and Christine, the best friends a girl could ever have. To my fiancé Tom, my partner in all things (“I guess I hate most things, but I never seem to hate you”). And, finally, to my family: I will never doubt your love for me ever again.

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ABSTRACT

Author: Kayleigh Howald Title: Through the North Door: The Invocation of Invitational Rhetoric in Wiccan Rituals Institution: Florida Atlantic University Thesis Advisor: Dr. Becky Mulvaney Degree: Master of Arts Year: 2016

Wiccan witchcraft, a contemporary religion, frequently suffers from misunderstandings; the worst of which, arguably, being that it thrives in a postfeminist society. Although it remains unclear why witches, despite their specific traditions, would not immediately embrace feminism, this study claims that whether practitioners agree or disagree, they are performing feminism. In this study, I argue that Wiccan rhetoric (both discursive and non-discursive) functions epistemically to encourage feminist values. The thesis analyzes three typical forms of Wiccan rhetoric using Sonja K. Foss and Cindy L.

Griffin’s approach of invitational rhetoric and the values of equality, immanent value, and self-determination.

v DEDICATION

This manuscript is dedicated to my friend, my mentor, my soul mate, my mother,

Lee Ann. In a world where women fear becoming their mothers, I aspire daily to be even half the woman mine is. I am in an endless state of awe over her strength and her determination and I am grateful, not only for the life she has given me, but for the sacrifices she made that allowed for all of this to be possible. (I’m here safe, and I love you.)

I also dedicate this manuscript to all those whom have passed from my life. I will see you in the next one.

THROUGH THE NORTH DOOR:

THE INVOCATION OF INVITATIONAL RHETORIC IN WICCAN RITUALS

LIST OF FIGURES ...... viii

I. INTRODUCTION ...... 1

Justification and Purpose of Study ...... 1

II. LITERATURE REVIEW ...... 9

Feminism ...... 9

Witchcraft ...... 14

Ritual ...... 17

Ritual in Witchcraft ...... 21

III. METHODOLOGY ...... 24

IV. ANALYSIS...... 34

Public Ritual ...... 41

Home Altars ...... 52

V. CONCLUSION ...... 65

Contributions of the Study ...... 65

Finale ...... 69

vii LIST OF FIGURES

Figure 1. A mother's primary altar. Kayleigh Howald, 2016...... 54

Figure 2. Empowerment. Kayleigh Howald, 2016 ...... 57

Figure 3. Secondary altar belonging to Author’s mother. Kayleigh Howald, 2016 ...... 59

Figure 4. Author’s primary altar. Kayleigh Howald, 2016...... 62

viii I. INTRODUCTION

Justification and Purpose of Study

In her book Wicca for Beginners: Fundamentals of Philosophy and Practice,

Thea Sabin describes asking a potential student for her Wiccan study group why he wanted training. “We ask everyone who talks to us about training this question,” she writes. “If they tell us they are looking for a nature-based religion, a path to self- empowerment, a way to commune with deity… we continue the conversation. If they tell us they want to hex their ex-lovers, brew cauldrons full of toxic stuff, make others fall in love with them, worship the devil, or fly on broomsticks, we tell them they’re out of luck and politely suggest that they seek out a therapist.”1 It is the unfortunate truth that, more often than not, it is the latter who approach Wiccan practitioners with the misunderstanding that the media-contrived and culturally-stereotyped version of witchcraft is truth.

However, this misconceived notion of witchcraft is not born solely from ignorance or misogyny as scholars rightly argue (both of these are major contributing factors to the continued backlash against practitioners).2 It is also due to the lack of information on the subject of witchcraft as a religion. In fact, peer-reviewed articles

1 Thea Sabin. Wicca for Beginners: Fundamentals of Philosophy and Practice. (Minnesota: Llewellyn, 2006), 1 2 Starhawk. The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess. (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1989), 81 1 about witchcraft (found using “witchcraft” as the only search term) rarely pertain to modern practices. Articles often pertain to the social and cultural context of early

European witchcraft or casually group witchcraft with demonology. The articles that do explore contemporary witchcraft are typically about African witchcraft, which (while quite different from the Western notion) is treated with a similar level of what one could consider contempt.3

Unsurprisingly, witchcraft – not as a cultural phenomenon, fictional concept, or medieval death sentence, but as a religion – lacks study by rhetorical scholars. While one could look to performance theory to study the phenomenon of witchcraft rituals, this fails to reach the heart of what these religious rituals mean to those involved. Although performance theory agrees that ritual is a tool of communication, it argues that ritual only indirectly affects social realities and perceptions. As religious scholar Catherine Bell explains, “The meaningfulness of ritual that such interpretations attempt to explicate has nothing to do with the efficacy that the ritual acts are thought to have by those who perform them.”4 As such, much of the current academic research on witchcraft as a religion – which stems largely from gender studies, cultural anthropology, and theology – approaches it in a similar manner.5 Furthermore, while communication studies has examined religion and gender, scholars tend to primarily consider the tenets of a religion as an influence on gender identity.6

3 Leo Igwe. "A skeptical look at African witchcraft and religion." Skeptic 11, 1(2004), 72 4 Catherine Bell. Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 43 5 Bruce Kapferer. "Introduction: outside all reason: magic, sorcery and epistemology in anthropology." Social Analysis: The International Journal of Social and Cultural Practice 46, 3 (2002), 1 6 Frances Raday. “Culture, religion, and gender.” International Journal of Constitutional Law 1, 4 (2003), 663 2 At this juncture, it seems too obvious to argue that witchcraft also suffers from misunderstandings due to its association with and worship of female figures (as that has been covered by scholars for several decades).7 Instead, I wonder why witchcraft and its subsequent communities are not fully embracing feminism or identifying as feminist.

This is not to say sects of the religion are necessarily rejecting feminism or not practicing along feminist guidelines, but there is very little consensus. While many covens adhere to strict feminist values (and operate under these first and foremost at times), there are others that practice with feminist values either without recognizing it or acknowledging it.8 Perhaps it is the fear of the word, of the symbol of feminism, or the fear of being too political. Perhaps there are too many traditions, too many differing opinions. Perhaps there are men and/or women in leadership positions who do openly reject feminist principles or there is still just too much sexism within communities (whether subtle or blatant) to fully embrace feminism. However, if the latter, one may argue that this is, at best, a bastardized form of Wicca and one that certainly does not adhere to any sense of karma or its Western equivalent. Although Margot Adler explains that some priests and priestess in the Craft are “agnostic on all ‘beliefs’” and joined because they “found its poetry beautiful or its ‘path’ self-actualizing,” an essential part of the path is the intense focus on the immanent value of all life.9 Why, though, is this important? Mostly because the world still needs feminism (despite the cries of postfeminism) and it seems important that such an obvious outlet recognize that.

7 Zsuzsanna Budapest. The Feminist Book of Light and Shadows. (Venice, CA: Luna Publications, 1976) 8 Deborah Lipp, “Anti-feminist Wicca?,” Deborah Lipp | Author, Priestess, Witch (blog), March 7, 2007, http://www.deborahlipp.com/2007/03/anti-feminist-wicca/ 9 Margot Adler. Drawing Down the Moon: Witches, Druids, Goddess-Worshippers, and Other Pagans in America. (New York: Viking Press, 1979), 124 3 Could embracing feminist values as a label, not just a concept, strengthen Wiccan communities? If the personal is political, could this advance a path of self-actualization?

Even if not using their energies to pass legislation, could Wiccans bend their energies to lessen the violence around them? To offer protection to others? To see that all life is valued – not just trees and animals, but all beings without voices? Without positions of power to speak from? If feminism critiques hierarchy, not just patriarchy, isn’t it something that Wiccan communities would seek to be involved in? Why hide behind words like humanist or equalist? Why not embrace the power of the feminine in all of us?

Why not define ourselves by what we practice?

This is what it means to invoke through the north door, to invoke the “energy of all those that have walked on this path before us.”10 Feminist discourse often calls forth images of the movements that preceded it. The third wave pointing back to the renegades of second, the second pointing back to the pioneers of the first, and the first pointing back to their mothers, their grandmothers, their great-grandmothers – the fighters that came before them. Witchcraft often follows the same suite. We look to an ancient path, a more organic way of thriving in the world; to the Burning Times, the inquisitions and hunts; to the days of the Goddess, when women were worshipped as equal to men; and to the traditions of our families, of the knowledge of our mothers, our grandmothers, our great- grandmothers. And so, like any social movement, the contemporary practices analyzed here reflect a nod to the past, all the while attempting to effect the future.

In this study, I argue that Wiccan rhetoric (both discursive and non-discursive) functions epistemically to encourage feminist values. To make this claim, I articulate my

10 Margaret Ann Lembo. Boynton Beach, Fl. March 2016 4 assumption about feminism, make clear what religious practices can be identified as

Wiccan, identify relevant rhetorical artifacts for analysis, and apply a critical framework that assists in determining if one could consider the practice of witchcraft to be a feminist act.

Therefore, to answer this question, several sub-questions also need to be addressed: What is feminist rhetoric? What framework is needed to explore Wiccan rhetoric? How does this rhetoric work publicly? How does it work privately? How do visual elements enhance the rhetorical efficacy? Can an emphasis on invitational rhetoric make the “knowing” involved in witchcraft rituals more accessible and less stigmatized?

Can this same emphasis make feminism more accessible and less stigmatized in Wiccan communities?

Background

While scholars/practitioners assert that witchcraft (with Wicca at the forefront of these discussions) evolved from ancient goddess-worshipping religions, it was not a steady or direct evolution, though the accounts of how it came to be vary by traditions and general level of skepticism. Many traditional Wiccan groups suggest that retired

British civil servant Gerald Gardner was the founder of “contemporary pagan

Witchcraft.”11 In the early-twentieth century, Gardner discovered a group practicing witchcraft in New Forest (an area that is now largely a national park in Hampshire) and was initiated into the Craft.12 When the British government lifted the ban on witchcraft in

11 Jone Salomonsen. Enchanted Feminism: Ritual, Gender, and Divinity Among the Reclaiming Witches of San Francisco. (London: Routledge, 2002), 91 12 D.J. Conway. Wicca: The Complete Craft. (Berkley: The Crossing Press, 2001), 12 5 1951, Gardner began publishing books about his practices, despite his coven’s insistence on not making their actions public.

Most texts, however, insist upon a “certain myth of ancient origin” and argue that

Gardner’s works are a revival, not a full-fledged invention.13 As social anthropologist

Jone Salomonsen explains, this is not really a myth, but a “genealogical account which, when clothed in terms of the history of religions, describes how some of the Witches themselves understand their origin and evolution.”14 In fact, Salomonsen argues that although contemporary witchcraft was “created under solid influence from ceremonial magic, it also differs distinctly from [Gardner’s] occult tradition, for the theological ideas specific to Witchcraft are inspired by sources other than the mainly Christian and

Kabbalistic heritage of western occultism.”15

In her most well-known work, The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient

Religion of the Great Goddess, Starhawk describes the origin of witchcraft as having its

“spiritual roots in the tribal religions of Europe some 10,000 years ago.”16 In this

Paleolithic culture, shamans were “aware of the pulsating rhythm that infuses all life, the dance of the double spiral… They did not frame this insight intellectually but in images: the Mother Goddess, the birth giver who brings into existence all life; and the Horned

God, hunter and hunted, who eternally passes through the gates of death that new life must go on.”17 She later explains that, as cultures, devoted to the “arts of war,” began to conquer and invade, the knowledge of the “Goddess peoples from the fertile lowlands

13 Salomonsen, Enchanted Feminism, 67 14 Ibid., 67 15 Ibid., 91 16 Ibid., 67 17 Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, 3 6 and fine temples,” was driven into the “hills and high mountains.”18 The ones who kept the knowledge alive – the folk traditions and esoteric customs – became known as witches. Starhawk calls them Wicca, a term meaning to bend or shape, as they “were those who could shape the unseen to their will. Healers, teachers, poets, and midwives, they were central figures in every community.”19

Modern witchcraft is seen as a rebirth, a revival of this knowledge. In many ways, it privileges the past. Not only a historical past, but a familial past. It celebrates mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers, the wombs where our lives begin, in addition to Mother Earth. It honors a knowledge that is private; rooted in tenderness and love, protection and strength. One practitioner, Marilyn Evans, describes making an apple pie –

“… we figured out you can have a bunch of women in the kitchen at the same time because we know where our hips are at any given moment…” – as a ritual, though she admits not an official one.20

We talked about our grandmothers and our female ancestors and our aunts and all of the people who had done these things. Our measuring cup was our chalice and the wooden spoon was our wand and the stove of course was our flame. . . .We created this apple pie as a tribute to our grandmothers and we called it the Betty Crocker ritual. It turned out to be a pretty cool ritual even though it wasn’t officially a ritual but it really was. It was quite fun making an apple pie.21

What this primarily demonstrates is that rituals are broad, both in scope and style; it also exhibits that there is great potential in the everyday, a chance to make a significant difference in the unremarkable moments. This can occur in a solitary practice or in

18 Ibid., 4 19 Ibid., 5 20 Marilyn Evans and Jonathan Hutchins, interviewed by Diana Brown, Religion in Kansas Project, July 20, 2014, 12 21 Ibid., 12 7 groups, in public or at home. Starhawk, who is seen as a key influence on contemporary witches, asserts that “to become de-possessed from patriarchy is the struggle of feminism; and, in fact, the Witches’ ritual magic is a significant means in this struggle.”22

As Salomonsen further explains, it is the responsibilities of witches as shapers and benders to “give a true account of history, of the patriarchal ideology, and of the means to create a better society, that is, of Witchcraft.”23

The thesis analyzes three typical kinds of Wiccan rhetoric using the approach of invitational rhetoric. The first analysis examines discourse about rituals. Primarily, handbooks and other instructional materials are analyzed as witchcraft does not have a single religious text. The texts chosen represent a variety of Wiccan perspectives, not all of which identify themselves explicitly as feminist. The second analysis explores rituals as performance and the ways in which invitational rhetoric may be used in a group setting. Finally, I analyze performance, space, and the importance of each on ritual, gender, and invitational rhetoric by turning toward the home altar tradition as, through altars, one finds that relationships and communication are magnified.

22 Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, 80 23 Salomonsen, Enchanted Feminism, 75 8 II. LITERATURE REVIEW

This review examines relevant literature on feminist perspectives in order to articulate specific assumptions about feminism that guide this study. The review also addresses pertinent literature on witchcraft and on ritual in order to identify rhetorical practices relevant to the study.

Feminism

To examine the complexity of feminist arguments, it is best to narrow the vast array of viewpoints to five distinct approaches: liberal feminism, cultural feminism, radical/socialist feminism, postmodern feminism, and ecofeminism. According to feminist philosophers Nancy Tuana and Rosemarie Tong, liberal political theory promotes a “belief in the natural equality and freedom of human beings and [advocates] the creation of a social structure that would recognize the uniqueness of individuals and provide them with equality of opportunity.”24 As such, liberal feminism stems from this same core belief. Largely associated with second wave feminism, liberal feminism’s attention is focused on institutional/systematic sexism. Advocates work to reform laws and women’s access to “education, professional and work opportunities, and equal pay

24 Nancy Tuana and Rosemarie Putnam Tong. Feminism and Philosophy: Essential Readings in Theory, Reinterpretation, and Application. (Boulder: Westview Press, 1994), 5 9 for equal work.”25 As such, it is the approach met with the most amount of support from instituted social and political establishments.

Cultural feminism – a term often applied pejoratively to this feminist approach – works within this neoliberal framework. Developed by educational psychologist Carol

Gilligan, cultural feminism takes what many consider an essentialist view.26 It often refers to a “specific package of discourses and practices that promote the idea that women and men are essentially different – either because of inherent biological differences or because of gendered socialization so deeply ingrained as to be irreversible. These differences between the two sexes transcend class, race, age, and ethnicity and supposedly unite all women in a common sisterhood.”27 Gilligan primarily focused on behavioral differences between men and women, determining that men typically see the individual/self and women typically see a network of connectedness. While she did not see the “ethos of care and the ethos of rights as the exclusive moral preserves of women and men respectively,” they tended to favor these moral perspectives.28

Another approach applies a Marxist framework to feminist principles with the emphasis on “understanding and addressing gender and class struggle/oppression.”29

Radical/socialist feminism argues that societal structure, not individual laws or mandates, are the cause of women’s inequality. In her essay, “Philosophy,” Elizabeth Grosz explains that instead of “consisting of visible acts, patriarchy is a latent system which

25 New South Wales Office of Environment and Heritage, Re-gendering the Landscape in New South Wales, by Bronwyn Hanna, (Sydney, Australia: Office of Environment and Heritage, 2011), 20 26 Kristin Ghodsee, “Feminism-by-Design: Emerging Capitalisms, Cultural Feminism, and Women’s Nongovernmental Organizations in Post-socialist Eastern Europe,” Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society 29, 3 (2004), 728 27 Ibid., 728 28 Ibid., 728 29 Re-gendering the Landscape in New South Wales, 25 10 organizes, makes possible, and gives support to individual acts of sexism. It provides the context, support, and meaning for these empirical acts. Even if sexism were removed, it would not eliminate women’s oppression.”30 Ultimately, radical feminism criticizes

“legal liberalism for ignoring the reality of male power and domination in formulating the seemingly neutral principles of liberalism’s agenda of sexual equality.”31 Radical feminism further argues against liberal feminism’s counterpart, rejecting cultural feminism for “failing to realize that the female characteristics that are central to their thesis are also the product of male domination.”32 Arguably, the most disagreeable aspect of radical feminism is the faction’s stance on transgender rights. While several scholars – namely Andrea Dworkin, Catharine MacKinnon, and John Stoltenberg – unfalteringly supported transgender men and women, a much larger number of radical feminists are deeply opposed, claiming that trans people were propagating patriarchal gender norms.33

Postmodern feminism serves as an antithesis to the strict definition of woman put forth by radical feminism. As Celeste Condit notes, postmodern feminist scholars are identified by a “wide ranging set of names including ‘gender deconstructionists,’ ‘gender trouble theorists,’ and sometimes the ‘third wave.’ While these feminists’ perspectives do differ from one another, their common agenda is to destabilize the assumption that human gender is inherently dimorphic.”34 In her discussion, Condit references theorists Judith

Butler, Toril Moi, Gloria Anzaldua, and bell hooks – all of whom “emphasize that gender

30 Elizabeth Grosz, “Philosophy” in Feminist Knowledge, ed. Sneja Gunew. (London: Routledge, 1990), 147 31 William J. Turnier, Pamela Johnston Conover, David Lowery, “Redistributive Justice and Cultural Feminism,” The American University Law Review 45 (1996), 1296 32 Ibid., 1296 33 Robert Jensen, “Some Basic Propositions about Sex, Gender, and Patriarchy,” Dissident Voice, June 13, 2014, accessed January 2, 2016, http://dissidentvoice.org/2014/06/some-basic-propositions-about-sex- gender-and-patriarchy/ 34 Celeste Michelle Condit, “In Praise of Eloquent Diversity: Gender and Rhetoric as Public Persuasion,” Women’s Studies in Communication 20,2 (1997), 96 11 is culturally constructed, and they argue that disrupting the traditional categories of male and female is a useful way to liberate women from the strictures of oppression that have, historically, been assigned to the category ‘woman.’”35 Anzaldua and hooks are particularly ardent against the term “woman” being used monolithically as the category and construction vary tremendously across both race and class. In postmodern feminism, everything – the human body, environment, time, and space – is constructed through representation and open to “negotiations and renegotiations of meaning.”36

While ecofeminism has been folded into radical feminism (and even into cultural feminism), for the purposes of this study, it deserves a category of its own. Charlene

Spretnak – an ecofeminist and co-founder of the Green Party – in her essay,

“Ecofeminism: Our roots and flowering,” explains that there were three paths to ecofeminism: the study of political theory and history, exposure to a nature-based religion, and environmentalism. The first path, in keeping with ecofeminism’s relationship to radical feminism, led women from Marxism. However, in rejecting that the whole of women’s oppression was economically-based, these women turned towards their additional knowledge of social ecology and their own “experiential explorations.”37

As Ynestra King notes, “The ecological crisis is related to the systems of hatred of all that is natural by the white, male western formulators of philosophy, technology, and death inventions. I contend that the systematic denigration of working-class people and

35 Ibid., 96 36 Re-gendering the Landscape in New South Wales, 34 37 Charlene Spretnak, “Ecofeminism: Our Roots and Flowering,” Ecospirit 3,2 (1987), 3 12 people of color, women, and animals are all connected to the basic dualism that lies at the root of western civilization.”38

The second path led from nature-based religions, which saw a revival in the 1970s with the emergence of various covens, such as those led by Starhawk. While not all witchcraft is explicitly feminist, the appeal, according to Spretnak came from the

“discovery of the Divine as immanent in and around us.”39 She describes:

We were drawn to it like a magnet, but only, I feel, because both of those features were central. We would not have been interested in "Yahweh with a skirt," a distant, detached, domineering godhead who happened to be female… What was intriguing was the sacred link of the Goddess in Her many guises with totemic animals and plants, sacred groves, womblike caves, the moon-rhythm blood of menses, the ecstatic dance -- the experience of knowing Gaia, Her voluptuous contours and fertile plains, Her flowing waters that give life, Her animals as teachers; for who of us who would ever again see a snake, coiled around the arms of an ancient Goddess statue, teaching lessons of cyclic renewal and regeneration with its shedding of skins, as merely a member of the ophidian order in the reptilian class of the vertebrate phylum?40 The third path led from environmentalism, a growing concern during the rise of ecofeminism (especially after the publication of Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring).

Spretnak, in her explanation, credits the liberal feminist movement as women with

“careers in public policy, science and technology, public-interest environmental organizations, and environmental studies programs in universities” who were initially introduced to feminism through the liberal attention to “how and why their progress on the career ladder was blocked. From there they eventually encountered a book, an article,

38 Ynestra King, “Healing the wounds: feminism, ecology, and nature/culture dualism” in Feminism and Philosophy: Essential Readings in Theory, Reinterpretation, And Application, ed. Nancy Tuana and Rosemarie Putnam Tong. (Boulder: Westview Press, 1994), 353 39 Spretnak., “Ecofeminism,” 3 40 Ibid., 3 13 or a lecture with ecofeminist analysis – and suddenly their career work was framed in radically different meaning.”41

Ecofeminism is not only a theory or perspective. At its core, ecofeminism is a practice, an action. It requires self-education – both on ecological issues and theories as well as nature itself. By deepening a communion with nature, one receives “gifts, teachings, and revelations” in the sensations of the wilderness.42 As such, the best practice and strategy of ecofeminism is leading by example (though, as Spretnak also notes, this is the most difficult). Examples include organizing around “the concrete issues of suffering and exploitation;” speaking “clearly but without malice against those who further policies of injustice and ecological ignorance; …never feeling that we must ridicule and crush those with whom we disagree…;” celebrating “with gratitude the wonders of life on Earth; and to seek intimate communion with the natural world. All of these are the flowering of ecofeminism.”43

While each perspective introduced here varies in its scope and conceptions/definitions of womanhood, each one seems to inform the other. As such, elements of each can be seen throughout witchcraft and its practice across time. Although there is a distinct emphasis on the connection between women and nature and between the feminine and an ethos of care, it is carried by the notion that the feminine (and the masculine) live within every organism in a sort of fluidity.

Witchcraft

41 Ibid., 4 42 Ibid., 5 43 Ibid., 9 14 First, it is essential to clarify the numerous terms used to describe contemporary

Western witchcraft. Although the terms Wicca and witchcraft are used interchangeably throughout much of the community, not all witches are Wiccan (but all Wiccans are witches). In other words, Wicca may be seen as a sect, of sorts, of the umbrella term of witchcraft. This is much the same as the notion that not all Christians are Catholic, but all

Catholics are Christians. The religion itself has interchangeable terms as well: Wicca, the

Craft, and witchcraft. For the sake of this study, I will refer to the religion and its practices as witchcraft and its practitioners as witches as these terms describe a broader base of people and their beliefs and it is often how Wiccans label themselves. Additional reasoning behind this distinction stems from The Spiral Dance, in which Starhawk explains that the term “witch,” despite its negative connotations, is a tool for both reclaiming and connecting. She explains that to “reclaim the word ‘Witch’ is to reclaim our right, as women, to be powerful; as men to know the feminine within as divine. To be a Witch is to identify with nine million victims of bigotry and hatred and to take responsibility for shaping a world in which prejudice claims no more victims.”44 From a feminist standpoint, this is essential. From a religious standpoint, this has even more of an impact, as the emphasis on balance and equality is a cornerstone to witchcraft practices.

That being said, it is also necessary to define witchcraft and outline its general practices. As previously discussed, there are many misconceptions about witchcraft that continue to circulate, both in academia and the general culture. In fact, most books about witchcraft begin by challenging these myths. The texts explain that it is not satanic

44 Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, 7 15 (“Satan is a part of the Christian religion, and Satanism is a Christian heresy”), proselytizing, exclusive, a way to have power-over, strictly about magic, a cult, or a pathway to illegal drugs and sexual abuse.45 In Wicca: the Complete Craft, D.J. Conway describes “Wicca or Witchcraft” as an “ancient nature religion with a belief in the duality of deity: that is, there is both a Goddess and a God. Usually, the Goddess holds the prime place in Wicca, with the God acknowledged as Her consort, helper, and co-creator.”46

Likewise, Sabin depicts it as a “living, evolving religion” as it combines “surviving folk traditions” and more modern components.47 Most importantly, she explains that witchcraft is a religion of experience: “Once you have experienced something, you ‘own’ it. It is part of you… Ours is a religion where actions truly do speak louder and more powerfully than words.”48

There are a number of traditions as well (within Wiccan witchcraft specifically).

According to Witches’ Voice Inc., a frequently updated and reliable source within the community, some of the known traditions include: Alexandrian, Gardnerian, Greencraft,

Georgian, New Reformed Orthodox Order of the Golden Dawn, Reclaiming, Dianic,

1734, Minoan Brotherhood/Sisterhood, Southern Italian Traditionalist, Assembly of the

Sacred Wheel, Feri, Druidism, the Shenandoah Fireside Circle, WildWood, Toteg Tribe,

La Branca della Cori de Lupa (Wolfheart), and many others. However, traditions are seen as guides, not hard and fast rules or dogma to abide by. As one witch told Quest, a British society magazine, “The best things Witches could do… would be to make a huge bonfire of all of their carefully copied old books of rituals and then ‘drink the water of knowledge

45 Sabin. Wicca for Beginners, 24 46 Conway. Wicca, 5 47 Sabin, Wicca for Beginners, 4 48 Ibid., 13 16 fresh from its source,’ which was the ‘light of the moon, the shape of the clouds, and the growing of green things.’”49

Still, despite the lack of organization to witchcraft, there are certain guidelines.

First, deity – life force, spirit, divine – is immanent and sacred, giving all life value.

Second, witches believe that “the earth is a manifestation of deity. It is a tangible piece of the divine, particularly of the Goddess, who gives birth to all things and receives them again in death. Therefore, everywhere on earth is sacred space.”50 This contributes to the abundant use of the elements, the seasons, and the lunar cycle in spell work. Third, witches often believe in some form of reincarnation – a continuation of the belief in the divinity of nature. Finally, witches adhere to the Threefold Law – “And it harm none, do what you will” – a form of karma, that suggests like attracts like.51 This is considered to be the most important of the four guidelines as, according to Adler, “In the United States most attempts to create a common set of principles and definitions have met with failure, with the exception of adherence to the ‘Wiccan Rede.’”52 The “law” is not intended to act a tool for policing morality per se, but to assert that, in the witchcraft religion, taking personal responsibility for one’s actions is essential, both in the individual practice of magic and in contributions to the universe. These four central witchcraft beliefs guide my selection of artifacts for analysis (which will be introduced later).

Ritual

Due to the importance of ritual to witchcraft’s religious practices, it is necessary to address conceptual understandings of the role and function of rituals. Again, according

49 Adler, Drawing Down the Moon, 141 50 Sabin. Wicca for Beginners, 27 51 Ibid., 27 52 Adler, Drawing Down the Moon, 110 17 to religious scholar Catherine Bell, theoretical descriptions of ritual often disregard it as a nuanced practice. Many are quick to differentiate between ritual and more conceptual forms of religion, such as beliefs, myths, and symbols. Sometimes, it is described as a

“thoughtless action – routinized, habitual, obsessive, or mimetic – and therefore the purely formal, secondary, and mere physical expression of logically prior ideas.”53

However, there is no scholarly consensus that defines ritual. In fact, perhaps the only uniting characteristics of traditional ritual theory are a persistent Cartesian/Baconian mind-body separation.

First, French sociologist Emile Durkheim asserted that religion is composed of two key elements: beliefs and rites. Beliefs, he claimed, are representations of the sacred.

Rites and rituals, on the other hand, are the “means by which collective beliefs and ideals are simultaneously generated, experienced and affirmed as real by the community.”54 In the Durkheimian heritage, beliefs are primary and rites are secondary. American anthropologist Clifford Geertz further delineated this notion, stating that ethos (action) is the moral and aesthetic aspects of culture, while a worldview (thought) generates a comprehensive idea of a general order of existence. Therefore, ritual or ethos is the action that gives expression to the worldview or religious belief.

Victor Turner – who, along with his wife Edith, studied extensively the healing rituals of the Ndemdu tribe of Zambia – became the most imitated ritual theorist with his

“famous definition of ritual as, ‘formal behavior prescribed for occasions not given over to technological routine that have reference to beliefs in mystical beings or powers.’”55

53 Bell. Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice, 19 54 Ibid., 20 55 Salomonsen. Enchanted Feminism, 160 18 He later revised his definition slightly, identifying ritual as an “affirmation of communal unity in contrast to the friction, constraints, and competitiveness of social life and organization.”56 Turner’s most important contribution to ritual discourse was the concept of communitas. Most commonly, it refers to a “state of equality, comradeship, and common humanity, outside of normal social distinctions, roles, and hierarchies.”57 In

Dramas, Fields, and Metaphors: Symbolic Action in Human Society, Turner explains that communitas is a “fact of everyone’s experience, yet it has almost never been regarded as a reputable or coherent object of study by social scientists. It is, however, central to religion, literature, drama, and art, and its traces may be found deeply engraven in law, ethics, kinship, and even economics.”58

These notions have since been challenged, largely by postmodern theorists. They argue that ritual is not solely meant to reinforce beliefs by “dramatizing or enacting prior conceptual entities in order to reaffirm or re-experience them.”59 Instead, as ritual studies scholar Ronald Grimes notes, ritual “may be seen as a legitimate means of knowing in its own terms, as an embodied, incarnate means of knowing, and not primarily as a reinforcing interpretation of something else, of another way of knowing.”60 Salomonsen takes Grimes’ work an additional step, regarding ritual as both “what” and “how.” She argues that ritual is an “independent expression of a worldview, an embodied means of knowing” and an arena for conflict and reconciliation. She also suggests that, through

“symbols and spatial organization,” rituals may “express neglected and displaced

56 Bell. Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice, 21 57 Tim Olavenson, “Collective Effervescence and Communitas: Processual Models of Ritual and Society in Emile Durkheim and Victor Turner,” Dialectical Anthropology 26 (2001), 93 58 Victor Turner, Dramas, Fields, and Metaphors: Symbolic Action in Human Society (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1974), 231 59 Ibid., 38 60 Salomonsen, Enchanted Feminism, 161 19 segments of an otherwise hegemonic worldview (the ‘hidden’ occult heritage in

Witchcraft is more visible in ritual than in other symbolic expressions). It is also an

“intentional social practice and a strategic, paradigmatic way of acting that depends upon the interaction of a culturally situated body and ritually defined space.”61 Through this ritualization of the body – “including the intentional manipulation of emotions and the indexicality of symbols – rituals works either to confirm or transform social beings and their worlds,” thus functioning as a kind of epistemic rhetoric.62

Ritual maintains a level of popularity among academics and as a theoretical focus because of how readily a public performance may be read like a traditional text. Still, there is a danger in relying too heavily on performance theory to understand ritual. As

Bell explains, “since performance theory denies any validity to indigenous claims that certain actions affect the gods, the harvest, or anything beyond the dispositions of the actors and audience, how much epistemological sharing can there actually be between

Chinese participants and Western interpreters concerning the type of project at stake in a

Chinese "soul-settling" ceremony?”63 This is not to say, however, that performance-text- ritual analogies cannot be made. In fact, Starhawk, in her discussion of leadership during group rituals (which will be further discussed during analysis) claims that “a ritual, like a theatre production, needs a director.”64

These theories regarding ritual, while varied, inform my selection of artifacts.

While the postmodern viewpoint is more akin to the practice of solitary witchcraft,

61 Ibid., 161 62 Ibid., 162 63 Bell. Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice, 43 64 Starhawk. The Spiral Dance, 81 20 Turner’s notion of communitas is evident in public or group rituals. In order to best analyze witchcraft, it is essential to include each practice.

Ritual in Witchcraft

While witchcraft is not unique in its reliance on ritual, ritualization is the cornerstone of its practices. According to academic and founder of the NROOGD tradition Aidan A. Kelly, the purpose of ritual in witchcraft is to “change the mind of the human being,” making ritual, by this definition, a highly rhetorical act.65 Kelly explains that ritual is a “sacred drama in which you are the audience as well as the participant, and the purpose of it is to activate parts of the mind that are not activated by everyday activity. We are talking about the parts of the mind that produce the psychokinetic, telekinetic power, whatever you call it – the connection between the eternal power and yourself.”66

In a variety of texts, rituals are described using a similar structure. First, the tools needed for ritual are gathered:

General items needed on the altar are the pentacle, dagger [or athame], the white pillar candle, a small taper candle, a candlesnuffer, the four Element candles, a chalice of water, a container of salt, a small hand bell, incense and a censer, and the paper or book with this ritual.67 In witchcraft, many of the tools and items used circulate around the discourse of the earthly elements and the body of the Goddess. As Adler explains “the whole subversive character of this tradition is based in the idea that the material world is the ground of the sacred. . . . the Holy exists in nature, in your mind, in your body, in your sexuality. All

65 Adler, Drawing Down the Moon, 141 66 Ibid., 141 67 Conway. Wicca, 125 21 the dichotomies handed to us by the patriarchy are false.”68 A small bowl of salt, stones, or clay for earth (lending “stability, physical strength, a nurturing atmosphere”); a feather or smoking incense for air (bringing “intelligence and organization”); a bowl or dish of fresh water or quartz for water (for “love, contentment, spirituality, psychism”); and a burning candle for fire (blessing the home with “warmth, passion, energy, protection, and health.69 Shekhinah Mountainwater, author of Ariadne’s Thread: A Workbook of Goddess

Magic, also explains the elements in altar arrangements, but in terms of the pentagram in order to include spirit. She writes, “These correspond to the Goddess as energy, electricity, volcanic flame (fire), breath, thought, speech, wind (air), river, ocean, lake, stream, spring, blood (water), flesh, soil, plant, stone (earth), psyche, soul, consciousness, design, space (spirit).”70

Next, the witch (either as a solitary or as the leader of the ritual if in a group setting) will cast, or open, the circle. Here, the area is cleansed, creating a safe and sacred space for the ritual to occur in. The leader of the group may request the participants to ground themselves while he or she calls the corners, ridding each person of any potentially negative energy. The calling of the corners – the cardinal directions of north, south, east, and west – occurs in a clockwise motion. This invites different energies into the circle: elemental, animal, etc. In most of the literature, rituals begin with the north, typically associated with the earth and the cycle of life, with a particular focus on death.

Following the clockwise direction, the practitioner will call in the east (air), the south

68 Adler. Drawing Down the Moon, 73 69 Scott Cunningham and David Harrington. The Magical Household: Spells & Rituals for the Home. (St. Paul: Llewellyn Publications, 2003), 166 70 Shekhinah Mountainwater. Ariadne’s Thread: A Workbook of Goddess Magic. (Freedom: The Crossing Press, 1991), 44 22 (fire), and the west (water).71 In her article “A Balancing Act: A Discussion of Gender

Roles Within Wiccan Ritual,” Elizabeth Shuler explains that “ritual creates a liminal space, a sort of in between time or transitional condition and is a way of stepping outside of normal time and space…”72 To come back into reality, the practitioner must close the circle – releasing the divine, the spirits, the beings present with him or her in the sacred space. As Druid author and activist Isaac Bonewits once summarized ritual, stating:

…magical rituals are psychodramas, ‘designed to facilitate the generation of psychic energy, and the focus disposition of that energy in order to accomplish a given result. . . . Almost every magical-religious ritual known performs the following acts: emotion is aroused, increased, built to a peak. A target is imaged and a goal is made clear. The emotional energy is focused, aimed, and fired at this goal. Then there is a follow-through; this encourages any lingering energy to flow away and provides a safe letdown.’73 This literature review shows that witchcraft, when approached as a religion, has a rich context from sociological, theological, and anthropological standpoints. However, while it is strengthened by interdisciplinary interest, it lacks study from a rhetorical perspective. As witchcraft seemingly both informs and is informed by feminist perspectives, the most logical approach to counter this lack is the application of feminist rhetorical theory – namely theories that promotes compassion, immanent value, equality, and self-determination.

71 Scott Cunningham. Earth, Air, Water, and Fire: More Techniques of Natural Magic. (Minnesota: Llewellyn Publications, 1991), 23 72 Elizabeth Shuler. “A Balancing Act: A Discussion of Gender Roles Within Wiccan Ritual,” Intermountain West Journal of Religious Studies 4, 1 (2012), 50 73 Adler, Drawing Down the Moon, 162 23 III. METHODOLOGY

With the abundance of men in the field of rhetoric throughout the millennia, it does not exactly come as a surprise that the study of rhetoric has been infused historically with patriarchal biases – especially in its methods. As Sally Miller Gearhart explains, until the mid-twentieth century, rhetoric was “taught on the conquest/conversion model, on a very male chauvinist model, one… that explicitly assumed all the power was in the speaker, just as we believed at one point in history that all power was in the sperm.”74

This approach associated rhetoric with “persuasion and included [sic] studies of symbol use in formal, intentional, and spoken discourse.”75 Later, scholars broadened the definition to include any type of symbol use – “verbal, visual, formal, informal, completed, or emergent” – allowing for a variety of rhetors’ work to be included in critical analysis, particularly those who had been previously excluded from participating in the public sphere.76 Karlyn Kohrs Campbell, in her 1973 essay “The Rhetoric of

Women’s Liberation: An Oxymoron,” was one of the first scholars to fully attempt to reconceptualize rhetorical studies from a feminist perspective. Here, she analyzed consciousness-raising groups and personal transformations in second wave feminism.77 In

74 Sally Miller Gearhart. “The Womanization of Rhetoric.” Women’s Studies International Quarterly 2 (1979), 298 75 Michaela D. E. Meyer. “Women Speak(ing): Forty Years of Feminist Contributions to Rhetoric and an Agenda for Feminist Rhetorical Studies,” Communication Quarterly 55,1 (2007), 3 76 Ibid., 3 77 Karlyn Kohrs Campbell. “The Rhetoric of Women’s Liberation: An Oxymoron.” Quarterly Journal of Speech 59, 1 (1973) 24 1989, Campbell released an anthology, Man Cannot Speak for Her, featuring the work of feminist rhetors from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries including Angelica Grimké,

Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Sojourner Truth, Ida B. Wells, and Carrie Chapman Catt. Using the works of these nationally-recognized women, Campbell introduced the concept of the feminine style, which was employed by each of her chosen rhetors. However, she notes,

“it was not, and is not today, a style exclusive to women, either as speakers or as audiences.”78 On the whole, feminine style is structured inductively (“…bit by bit, instance by instance, generalizations emerge”).79 It is tonally personal, relying on experiences, anecdotes, and narratives. This approach is transferred to the audiences, who are both invited to participate and are addressed as peers, their authority based in their personal experiences as well. The goal of feminine style, according to Campbell, is empowerment, a term “contemporary feminists have used to refer to the process of persuading listeners that they can act effectively in the world, that they can be ‘agents of change.’”80

Another feminist rhetorician, Barbara Biesecker, countered, claiming that

Campbell was employing female tokenism. Biesecker was critiquing a particular methodology, one that wrote women in to “rhetorical canons in order to increase the visibility of women as communicators.”81 As she writes in her 1992 article, “Coming to

Terms with Recent Attempts to Write Women into the History of Rhetoric:”

The mere accumulation of texts does not guarantee that our ways of knowing will change when the grounds for their inclusion and, likewise,

78 Karlyn Kohrs Campbell. Man Cannot Speak for Her: A Critical Study of Early Feminist Rhetoric. (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1989), 12 79 Ibid., 12 80 Ibid., 12 81 Meyer, “Women Speak(ing),” 3 25 our way of deciphering them, remain the same. But if a decidedly feminist revisionary history of Rhetoric hinges at least in part on our articulating an alternative to the ideology of individualism that has up until now enabled the discipline to identify ‘the great works,’ what criterion should take its place?82

Ultimately, Biesecker argued that introducing women into the canon does not account for why they were excluded nor address a remedy for the future. This approach – one shared by Carole Spitzack, Kathryn Carter, Karen Foss, and Sonja Foss – explores how rhetoric, not just as a practice, but “as a discipline oppresses women in conjunction with the ways various social systems contribute to women’s oppression.”83

In 1995, Andrea Lunsford attempted to reconcile tokenism and essentialism through her anthology Reclaiming Rhetorica: Women in the Rhetorical Tradition, which she described as an enthymeme. The essays she chose did not attempt to redefine rhetoric, but instead sought to interrupt the “seamless narrative usually told about the rhetorical tradition and to open up the possibility for multiple rhetorics.”84 These rhetorics, she claimed, would not “name and valorize one traditional, competitive, agnostic, and linear mode of rhetorical discourse,” but would instead feature a variety of rhetorical acts: “breaking the silence; naming in personal terms; employing dialogics; recognizing and using the power of conversation; moving centripetally towards connections; and valuing – indeed insisting upon – collaboration.”85 The inclusion of works about Aspasia, Christine de Pisan, Mary Wollstonecraft, Margaret Fuller, Ida B.

Wells, and others certainly speaks to Lunsford’s goals as these women (and the men and

82 Barbara Biesecker. “Coming to Terms with Recent Attempts to Write Women into the History of Rhetoric.” Philosophy and Rhetoric 25 (1992), 145 83 Meyer, “Women Speak(ing),” 5 84 Andrea A. Lunsford, “On Reclaiming Rhetorica,” in Reclaiming Rhetorica: Women in the Rhetorical Tradition, ed. Andrea A. Lunsford (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1995), 6 85 Ibid., 6 26 women who have written about them in her anthology) certainly represent a variety of backgrounds and perspectives, but maintain similar objectives.

Karen A. Foss, Sonja K. Foss, and Cindy Griffin further challenged the field with their anthology Feminist Rhetorical Theories, which showcased nine feminist scholars from a variety of backgrounds (“. . . .they need not hold certain positions or speak in particular fields in order to be worthy of our investigation”).86 Foss, Foss, and Griffin saw their attempts to bring feminism to the study of rhetoric as a more “comprehensive understanding,” defining rhetoric as “any kind of human symbol use that functions in any realm – public, private, and anything in between. . . .It no longer is to learn how to persuade others; rather, it is to understand how people construct the worlds in which they live and how those worlds make sense to them.”87 Rhetoric, they argue, is fundamental to existence. Considering the ubiquitous nature of symbols, it is important to be conscious of how the symbols function and influence. However, they further value rhetoric because it “can and does create reality” and is an “important way in which individuals create worlds, perspectives, and identities. . . .”88

Understanding how rhetoric functions allows us to make conscious choices about the kinds of worlds we want to create, who and how we want to be in those worlds, and the values we want those worlds to embody. The study of rhetoric, then, enables us to understand and articulate the various ways individuals create and enact the worlds in which they choose to live.89 Overall, feminist rhetorical theory seems to be concerned with recovering women’s rhetorical works, histories, and knowledges that have been lost due to women’s

86 Karen A. Foss, Sonja K. Foss, Cindy L. Griffin, Feminist Rhetorical Theories (Long Grove: Waveland Press, 1999), 7 87 Ibid., 7 88 Ibid., 7 89 Ibid., 7 27 general exclusion from the public sphere. In addition to Campbell’s approach of integrating women rhetors, feminist rhetoric has sought to expand what artifacts may be considered rhetorical. Beyond traditional texts, scholars are open to exploring other rhetorical performances that “include women’s voices in diaries, journals, poetry, drama, mystical experiences, religious feelings, household accounts, church records, letters, autobiographical sketches, educational treatises, music, translations, and, of course, orations.”90 With such a variety of artifacts – ones undeniably based in the private sphere

– a different approach to rhetoric was necessary, both in terms of criticism and practice.

In their 1995 article, Sonja Foss and Cindy Griffin offered a new form of rhetoric – one that emphasizes the importance of relationships and interconnectedness, creates community though empowerment, and celebrates the feminine in a world that has long demonized it.

Foss and Griffin’s theory of invitational rhetoric challenges the popular definition of rhetoric as persuasion, arguing that it is not the only type of rhetoric available.

Persuasive rhetoric – occasionally referred to as traditional rhetoric – is often defined as the “conscious intent to change others.”91 While this conscious intent certainly can be used for ethical causes, some feminist scholars argue that the strategies employed through persuasive rhetoric are simply linguistic tools of oppression and limitation.

Instead, invitational rhetoric views change as a potential byproduct of communication instead of the ultimate goal. The theory is based in feminist principles, namely relationships of equality, immanent value, and self-determination. First, Foss and

90 Cheryl Glenn, Rhetoric Retold: Regendering the Tradition from Antiquity Through the Renaissance (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1997), 175 91 Stephen Littlejohn and Sonja Foss. Encyclopedia of Communication Theory. (Los Angeles: Sage, 2009), 570 28 Griffin, partially quoting bell hooks, note that “efforts to dominate and gain power over others cannot be used to develop relationships of equality, so feminists seek to replace the

‘alienation, competition, and dehumanization’ that characterize relationships of domination with ‘intimacy, mutuality, and camaraderie.’”92 The principle of immanent value – that all beings are interconnected, unique, and necessary – further eschews hierarchies and inherently chastises the goals of persuasive rhetoric. Here, Foss and

Griffin argue that to not recognize the experiences and knowledge of one’s audience, a rhetor is devaluing the members of that audience. Finally, self-determination involves trusting others in the decisions they make for themselves. Instead of subjects to be acted upon, an audience needs to be “unconditionally accepted as the experts on their own lives.”93

Furthermore, invitational rhetoric assumes the rhetorical forms of offering perspectives (particularly through the use of personal narrative) and creating external conditions, both posed as prerequisites for mutual understanding. Foss and Griffin particularly stress the importance of an appropriate atmosphere – one that is safe, where the audience and its opinions are valued, and without limitation of subject matter.

According to feminist historiographer Cheryl Glenn, “With their theories of invitational rhetoric, re-sourcement, enfoldment, and power-with, these scholars have worked to align feminist goals with rhetorical goals.”94

92 Sonja Foss and Cindy Griffin. “Beyond persuasion: A proposal for an invitational rhetoric,” Communication Monographs 62,1 (1995), 4 93 Sonia Johnson. The Ship That Sailed into the Living Room: Sex and Intimacy (Berkeley: Wildfire, 1991), 125 94 Cheryl Glenn. “Rhetoric and feminism: the possibilities of women and beyond.” In Gender Rhetoric: North-south, edited by Jairos Kangira and Philippe Joseph Salazar. (Windhoek: Poly Press, 2010), 50 29 In addition to the rhetorical examples given throughout the essay that exemplify invitational rhetoric – presenting research at conferences; Adrienne Rich, Alice Walker, and Audre Lorde accepting an award together; and Gearhart’s interaction with an anti- abortion advocate – perhaps (unsurprisingly for Foss and Griffin) the most immediate example is the rhetoric of Starhawk. In the article, Foss and Griffin refer to a narrative by

Starhawk in which, during a protest, the guards watching the arrested activists attempted to beat one woman. At this moment, another woman in the group began to chant. When the others joined, the guards’ responses transformed from hostile to bewildered.

According to Starhawk, “In that moment in the jail, the power of domination and control met something outside its comprehension, a power rooted in another source.”95

However, invitational rhetoric has not gone without criticism. First is their definition of traditional rhetoric, which is often described as too simplistic or generalizing. In their 1996 essay, “Navigating between Scylla and Charybdis: Continuing the Dialogue on Communication and Social Justice,” Mark A. Pollock and a number of other scholars argued that Gearhart, Foss and Griffin, and Makau started from an

“essentialized definition of persuasion.”96 They further argue that defining persuasion in such limiting terms “abstracts it from context of use, ruling out of bounds questions about who speaks to whom, for what reasons, and in what manner” and produces a “flattening of concepts of power, authority, and violence.”97

The most notable criticism has come from Celeste Condit’s “In Praise of Eloquent

Diversity: Gender and Rhetoric as Public Persuasion,” which questions Foss and Griffin’s

95 Foss and Griffin, “Beyond persuasion,” 8 96 Mark A. Pollock, et al., “Navigating between Scylla and Charybdis: Continuing the dialogue on communication and social justice,” Communication Studies 47, 1-2 (1996), 149 97 Ibid., 150 30 emphasis on “distinct masculine and feminine communication styles.”98 Condit insists that a dichotomous gender perspective encourages “a future much like the past,” as it continues to posit the public realm as a masculine space.99 Instead, she proposes a gender diversity perspective that “emphasizes the active construction of multiple, transient gender categories” that are both “fragmentary and context-bound. They will reflect shifting configurations of race, gender, class, sexual orientation, and personal characteristics. The goal of gender diversity approaches is to dismantle traditional gender dimorphism without leaving persons identity-less… Women cannot be oppressed as women if they are not recognized as such within traditional/dominant sex relations.”100

However, in regards to witchcraft, while the divine (both male and female) reside in all things, there is a division between the two. The distinction between Condit’s dichotomous gender perspective and the God/Goddess dichotomy is that, in witchcraft, the masculine and feminine are inseparable – both are essential for life and balance – and there is no hierarchy between them.

Another common criticism is that invitational rhetoric cannot be used in many or all rhetorical situations. However, what these critics (Fulkerson, etc.) seemingly do not take into consideration is the disclaimer initially given by Foss and Griffin: that invitational rhetoric is not intended to be a replacement, but an alternative. Unfortunately, this disclaimer frequently goes unnoticed as scholars – from Campbell to Michaela D. E.

Meyer – seem to cling to this notion. Meyer, in her 2007 article “Women Speak(ing),” asks “… are there not times where audiences should be or need to be changed for some

98 Samuel R. Evans, “Case Study 2: Debating the Aims of Discourse: Persuasive versus Invitational Rhetoric,” in Walking and Talking Feminist Rhetorics, ed. Lindal Buchanan and Kathleen J. Ryan, (West Lafayette: Parlor Press, 2010), 360 99 Condit, “In Praise of Eloquent Diversity,” 94 100 Ibid., 97 31 reason or benefit?”101 To which the most obvious answer is, in the situations in which audiences “should” or “need” to be changed, invitational rhetoric is not the appropriate tactic. However, the use of the term “should” here is what Foss and Griffin seemingly object to in rhetoric. Within the framework of invitational rhetoric, the audience members are considered experts in their own lives. The notion that an audience “should” feel or act as the rhetor wants is where the sense of oppression comes into play. Meyer further argues that invitational rhetoric posits women as victims due to its use of terms “like

‘invitation’ and ‘offering,’ terminology that is socially perceived as more passive than terms such as ‘persuasive’ or ‘convincing.’”102 Ultimately, she states that using these terms to “define women’s rhetorical acts robs women of their power of intent in rhetorical construction.”103 Though clearly arguing against a dichotomous notion of gender, Meyer does not seem to grasp that her argument is not necessarily supportive. In an attempt to assert that women are not victims, statements such as these demean feminine traits that reside in both genders. It was the patriarchal system that deemed passivity as a virtue belonging to women and then shunned it in men. Invitation and offering is a power, though not by the definition given to us by patriarchy.

Our notions of masculine and feminine were socially-constructed in the patriarchy. To base notions of power, passivity, and rhetoric on these terms is a grave mistake on the part of Meyer. Glenn explains this best in her discussion of the rhetorical significance of silence: “Little wonder, then, silence has been gendered a lamentable essence of femininity: of weakness, passivity, stupidity, obedience. On the other hand,

‘speaking out’ has long been gendered the signal of masculinity: of strength, liberation,

101 Meyer, “Women Speak(ing),” 8 102 Ibid., 10 103 Ibid., 10 32 authority, especially given the Western tendency to overvalue the spoken word (except, of course, in the case of the idealized male – the powerful tightlipped hero…).104

Ultimately, invitational rhetoric provides a different route in the rhetorical landscape. If persuasion is the field’s well-paved road, tended to throughout the years by scholars and philosophers alike (but clogged with too much traffic), then invitational rhetoric is the back road – the scenic drive, the long way home. In the moments where understanding is needed and community is desired, invitational rhetoric is exactly what could potentially work to create the change one wishes to see in the world instead of carefully manipulating it. For the purposes of this study, the analytic structure suggested by the theory of invitational rhetoric best dictates my examination of Wiccan rhetoric as feminist.

104 Glenn, “Rhetoric and feminism,” 45 33 IV. ANALYSIS

In witchcraft, ritual is an integral aspect of the religion. Without ritual, spell work remains ineffective: simply words on a page or hanging in the air. However, as

Salomonsen explains, while witches understand ritual as a pattern for working magic, the notion of connecting with their spiritual path via religious ritual is just as important and it cannot be done in solitude. Instead, she argues that the understanding of ritual in witchcraft (Starhawk’s Reclaiming tradition, in particular) regards “‘connection versus separation’ as a basic ontological and psychological theme dramatized in ritual.”105 Here, ritualizing becomes a key method to “induce change and establish new feelings of belonging, as well as a medium to relate the present, to the past, and mark the progression of time and transformation – personally, socially, and mythologically.”106 Therefore, it is clearly appropriate to apply Foss and Griffin’s theory of invitational rhetoric to the ways in which ritual is approached by practitioners, particularly how they invoke the three common tenets of feminism proposed in “Beyond Persuasion” (equality, immanent value, and self-determination).

First, there is the textual ritual. Although, as previously mentioned, witchcraft does not have a single religion text, there are numerous written works, both books and essays, which provide specific guidance and even scripts for specific types of rituals. In

105 Salomonsen, Enchanted Feminism, 158 106 Ibid., 159 34 this section, I analyze several rituals about healing the earth, invoking love, eliminating domestic violence, and the creation of the self. Additionally, I focus on the basic structure of the ritual and how these simple steps are deeply invitational and, therefore, feminist.

Second, I explore the dynamics of invitational rhetoric that occur within public rituals. Primarily, I analyze a full moon ritual performed by witches in Marysville,

Washington via video footage recorded by the group. To incorporate an experiential knowledge, I apply invitational rhetoric to the full moon drumming circles I attended in the South Florida area in 2015 and 2016. Finally, in addition to discussing altars based on the literature surrounding the home altar tradition, I will also explore a specific type of wiccan altar: the bookshelf altar. These altars, belonging to myself and my mother, demonstrate invitational rhetoric through their connection with knowledge and sharing but especially through their matrilineal orientation.

Textual Rituals

Invitational rhetoric is heavily employed throughout witchcraft rituals. So much so, in fact, one might argue that Foss and Griffin were inspired by witchcraft to develop their alternative rhetorical theory. On the whole, this is most evident in The Spiral Dance, particularly when Starhawk discusses how rituals can be structured in order to embrace power-with rather than power-over:

To counter the Conqueror, a group must provide real safety: clear boundaries, open lines of communication and power, open conflict, and solidarity in the face of outside dangers. To counter the Judge, we must create situations that are not judgmental, not built on lines of competition and punishment, but on rituals and decision-making processes that affirm our immanent value. To counter the Orderer, a group can remain open to mystery, remembering that spirituality is about wonder and unanswerable questions, not answers. To counter the Censor, the group can encourage 35 members to tell their stories, share experiences, speak the unspeakable, and use decision-making processes such as consensus that encourage each person’s voice. To counter the Master, we can do away with hierarchies, share group resources and rewards equitably, avoid overextending ourselves, and create sustainable ways to meet needs.107 Occasionally, though, rituals will invoke one aspect of invitational rhetoric more distinctly than others. For example, many rituals related to healing the earth draw heavily upon the principle of immanent value. Often, they are designed to return energy to the earth. For example, in 1988 the pagan publication Moon Web circulated a ritual for the restoration and conservation of rainforests:

As you chant, see the world as a network of connected systems. Breathe the air that comes from the jungles of South America. Feel the living fire of an ocelot's power. Taste the rain on the leaves at the tops of the trees. Feel the delicate structure of the soil at the forest floor. . . . As you chant, see yourself standing guard over the borders of the rainforest. See yourself with others, protecting rainforest as you would protect yourself, because that's what you're doing.108 In similar rituals, practitioners are encouraged to sit on the ground, hands in the dirt.

Visualization is essential in these rituals: mediations of the earth as a “sphere of positive, whole, healed energy,” a living organism.109 Another distinctive work is not so much a ritual, but a description of the “other tools” needed for a ritual about domestic violence that explores the tenet of equality. In Earth, Air, Water, and Fire: More Techniques of

Natural Magic, author Scott Cunningham gives detailed guidelines for the materials to be used when creating one’s own rituals, organized by purpose (alcoholism, releasing guilt, strengthening a marriage, courage, protection during travel, etc.). While the materials listed may include herbs, stones, and symbols, for the domestic violence ritual, only one

107 Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, 270 108 Michael Harismides "Internet Book of Shadows: Ritual for the Healing and Preservation of Rainforests." Internet Book of Shadows. 1999. Accessed May 2016. http://www.sacred- texts.com/bos/bos063. 109 Cunningham. Earth, Air, Water, and Fire, 52 36 thing is needed: “Call your telephone help line, women’s center, your local law enforcement agency, or telephone operator at once!”110 Though simple, this act of camaraderie builds an essential trust between rhetor and audience. Although Cunningham is considered to have a non-feminist approach to witchcraft and some may not consider simply telling a potential victim of domestic violence to seek help a feminist act, bearing in mind the lack of public attention about domestic violence in 1991 when this particular edition was published, this seems to be at least in accordance with Foss and Griffin’s first tenet.

Even rituals about finding love employ invitational rhetoric (contrary to popular belief). The words used in these rituals are careful to never imply power-over, but instead power-with as a practitioner/rhetor must always be conscious of intention when entering a ritual of this magnitude. As such, the language often speaks of wishing to “share your love with another person,”111 to enjoy “a satisfying relationship,”112 and to see “yourself in a happy, emotionally healthy relationship (not with a specific person, of course).”113

The notion of self-determination is at the core of these rituals. Although one may attract love to them through spell work and ritual – as like attracts like via the threefold law – the manipulation of a specific person is seen as highly unethical, immoral, and oppressive.114

A more common experience when analyzing witchcraft rituals is finding that all three criteria of invitational rhetoric are employed at once. As Starhawk explains

110 Cunningham. Earth, Air, Water, and Fire, 174 111 Ibid, 108 112 Ibid., 66 113 Ibid., 94 114 Sabin. Wicca for Beginners, 25 37 invitational principles can “help us face what we encounter when we drop the veil between the worlds and also help us keep our circles functioning in a healthy way generally.”115 While she notes that this is particularly important in groups due to the intimacy of trancework, one of the strongest examples is a solitary ritual that comes from the work of witch and ordained priestess Brandy Williams. In her book The Woman

Magician: Revisioning Western Metaphysics from a Woman’s Perspective and

Experience, Williams challenges the Western magical tradition and women’s limited roles of muse, priestess, or earth mother through discussions of philosophy, history, science, culture, and theology – combining both research and a narrative style. She offers a workable ritual system based on Egyptian cosmology, called the Sisters of Seshat, to assist in what she calls living “authentically as a woman and a dedicated practitioner.”

Her most impressive ritual – which she admits initially terrified her, as she had “launched herself into an unmapped magical space” – is a ritual of creation.116 After exploring the context surrounding both her sex and her gender (and the construction of each through performativity and language), she sought to create herself as an “embodied woman with reason and will.”117 To do this, she begins by deconstructing herself, describing herself in terms of body parts (feet, toes, womb, stomach, lungs, skin, etc.). She places herself on a life arc; as an “egg in [her] grandmother’s womb” and “carried by [her] mother and born into the world.”118 Then, she positions herself in her family, in human society, in earth, and, finally, in being. Through all of this constructing and positioning, Williams – while not immediately changing the state of the patriarchy – arrives at a deeper understanding

115 Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, 270 116 Brandy Williams. The Woman Magician: Revisioning Western Metaphysics from a Woman’s Perspective and Experience (Minnesota: Llewellyn Publications, 2011), 135 117 Ibid., 131 118 Ibid., 134 38 of her relationship and place in the world that allows for a sense of wholeness and completion.119 This, of course, is a luxury that is not often afforded to women in mainstream religious experiences. Through this ritual, she explains:

I understand myself to contain multitudes; selves grow, are born, and die in response to changing relationships in the world, while maintaining the experience of a consensus thread of unitary experience. . . . I understand myself as animal to exist within a world that is entirely composed of life. All things on earth were either created by life or modified by life, so that the entire planet is a living organism.120

Williams’ sharing of this deeply personal ritual and insistence that it “can be (and has been) successfully conducted by any person of any sex or ability,” touches the core of invitational rhetoric as it could be used on a daily basis, as Foss and Griffin surely seemed to imagine it.

However, the simplest acts of Wiccan ritual also demonstrate invitational rhetoric, particularly the casting of the circle. While it is, in fact, only a portion of a full ritual, is it the most significant as it creates the sacred space. As Conway explains, the casting is technically the second step of the ritual, with gathering all of the necessary tools being the first: “Once the circle is cast, you cannot cross it to get something you forgot.”121

After the tools are gathered, one begins the ritual by using a broom to “ritually sweep, in a clockwise movement, all negative energy and entities out of the ritual area, while saying: ‘All negative out, all positive in.’”122 This not only helps establish a space that is sacred, but one that is safe, where value and freedom can be felt and ideas can be

119 Ibid., 135 120 Ibid., 133 121 Conway. Wicca, 231 122 Ibid., 231 39 expressed. Once the altar has been set, the ritual can begin. Conway offers well-thought- out instructions in her description of the ritual:

Stand before the altar. Close your eyes, breathe deeply, and center your thoughts on the upcoming ritual and the reason behind it. . . . Walk clockwise or deosil around the circle, drawing the circle mark in the air as you go. Be sure to overlap the ends in the East as you finish. As you walk, say: ‘I consecrate this circle to the Goddess and the God. Here may they manifest and bless their child’. . . . Raise your arms in greeting, and say: ‘Come, all those who would help me here this night. I give you welcome within this sacred circle. Join your powers with my desires that I may create and accomplish.’123 The words chosen here, especially in the latter portion, are strictly invitational as the witch is literally inviting the divine into a safe space. He or she asks for help in generating something new, changing a situation, and achieving a goal. However, instead of a rhetor asking an audience to bring their power, their strength, their energy to solve a problem or reach an understanding, it is a practitioner asking a deity for these same things. The next portion of the ritual – the purifying and blessing of the elements – relies on immanent value, both through its focus on the ways in which the power of the elements reside in the practitioner and the power is connected to the other elements. As the witch blesses and mixes the elements (water with earth and fire with air), he or she speaks the following words:

The blessings of the Goddess be upon this water. . . . May it ever remind me of the endless cauldron waters of rebirth. The blessings of the Goddess be upon this salt, symbol of Earth. May it ever honor the blessed earth that is Her body in the physical world. Water and Earth, Elements of birth. By touch, purify. By power, sanctify. Great Goddess, be you adored! May the blessings of the God be upon this charcoal, symbol of Fire. May I ever honor the sacred fire that dances within me. May the blessings of the God be upon this incense, symbol of Air. May I always listen to the spiritual

123 Ibid., 232 40 inspiration that whispers to my soul. Fire and Air, Elements so fair. By touch, sanctify. Great God, be you adored!124 The final part of the ritual is the calling of the quarters or directions. This is meant to ask the guardians of each direction to protect the circle and witness the ritual by stating, “Lords and Ladies of the [East, South, West, and North], all those ruled by the element of [Air, Fire, Water, and Earth], I do call upon you to witness this ritual and to guard this circle.”125 The closing of the circle addresses the elements as well, this time thanking them for their attendance and support. There is always an appreciation shown for the energies, deities, and spirits that are called upon during a ritual. In witchcraft, no action is taken for granted.

While the effects of witchcraft are not immediately felt on the world, the outcomes of ritual are immediately felt by the practitioners.126 Interestingly enough, invitational rhetoric seems to have a similar fate. When employed in daily use – as through religious ritual – invitational rhetoric can create a safe, open rhetorical situation that persuades in its own way, which can be seen in the exploration of public rituals.

Public Ritual

Though many public rituals occur throughout the calendar year – celebrating equinoxes, solstices, and other natural phenomenon sacred to witches – the most accessible public rituals are those that occur during the full moon. This is when her power is considered strongest. Many, including Barbara Mor and Monica Sjoo, attribute this to the connection of the moon, not only with tidal fluctuations, but with women’s

124 Ibid., 233 125 Ibid., 234 126 Ibid., 125 41 menstruation cycles. They explain that the “witches’ sabbats were originally observances of the sacred or taboo days at the new and full moon, critical days of her cycle – days, and nights, of great power, for good or for harm” – with menstruation occurring at the new and ovulation occurring at the full.127 Most notably, Starhawk addresses the full moon as an agent of change and (re)birth in her full moon meditation:

Ground and center, and visualize a round full moon. She is the Mother, the power of fruition and of all aspects of creativity. She nourishes what the New Moon has begun. See her open arms, her full breasts, her womb burgeoning with life. Feel your own power to nurture, to give, to make manifest what is possible. She is the sexual woman; her pleasure in union is the moving force that sustains all life. Feel the power in your own pleasure, in orgasm. Her color is the red of blood, which is life. Call her name “Mari!” and feel your own ability to love.128

One particular full moon ritual was performed by the Universal Pagan Temple in

Maryville, Washington in December 2013, video recorded and uploaded to YouTube. It was a small group ritual, led by a high priestess and a high priest. In The Spiral Dance,

Starhawk notes that leaders are necessary in group ritual. She writes, “In Witchcraft, authority means responsibility. The coven leader must have the inner power and sensitivity to channel the group’s energy, to start and stop each phase of the ritual, adjusting the timing to the mood of the circle.”129 Furthermore, leaders are encouraged

(via the concept of power-from-within) to have “healthy pride” or “joy in one’s strength.”130 The coven leader, in a way, becomes the rhetor in Foss and Griffin’s alternative rhetorical situation: evaluating the group via spiritual feedback to maintain a healthy environment in which (psychic) change is possible.

127 Monica Sjoo and Barbara Mor. The Great Cosmic Mother: Rediscovering the Religion of the Earth. (New York: Harper Collins, 1987), 201 128 Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, 122 129 Ibid., 81 130 Ibid., 81 42 Although the ritual uses traditional structure and language, there are numerous examples of invitational rhetoric. First, the priestess used a bell in the beginning of the ritual, a symbolic way of clearing the air. As the priest and priestess took turns opening the circle with the elements, then she lit the candles that were placed in each quarter of the circular altar.

The circle is bound to be cast, but those who gather let them be here of their own free will. Here do I bring light and air in at the East to illuminate our temple and bring the breath of life. Here do I bring light and fire in at the South to illuminate our temple and bring it warmth. Here do I bring light and water in at the West to illuminate our temple and wash it clean. Here do I bring light and earth in at the North to illuminate our temple and build it in strength.131 The priest consecrated the salt using an athame – a small dagger or knife – that is used as an extension of the self (some witches will use wands for this same purpose, but others may not require such tools). After, the priestess poured the salt into the water, mixing with her athame. She then sprinkled the saltwater mixture around the room, moving in a clockwise direction. The priest consecrated each participant, stating: “I consecrate thee in the names of the God and Goddess and welcome thee to this Temple.

May you all be here in peace and in love. We bid you welcome. Let now the quarters be saluted and the gods invited.”132 The calling of the quarters was performed by both leaders and two of the participants. The inclusion of participants in such an important step insures that they are not subjects here to be acted upon, but are involved in the energy of the ritual. As each direction is called, everyone turned and created the sign of the pentagram, a symbol of protection, with their hand or athame.

131 Universal Pagan Temple. “Witches Coven Full Moon Ritual.” YouTube video, 13:36. Posted December 15, 2013. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvA6gf3amdw 132 Ibid. 43 All hail to the element of air, Watchtower of the east. May it stand in strength, ever watching over our circle. All hail to the element of fire, Watchtower of the south. May it stand in strength, ever watching over our circle. All hail to the element of water, Watchtower of the west. May it stand in strength, ever watching over our circle. All hail to the element of earth, Watchtower of the north. May it stand in strength, ever watching over our circle.133 Once again, the priest and priestess took turns speaking, acknowledging the rede and thanking the gods for their presence at the ritual. This is primarily a reminder about the importance of self-determination; we must make our own decisions, but we must also be responsible for the choices we make.

Once more, we meet together, one with another, to share our joy of life and to reaffirm our feelings for the gods. The Lord and the Lady have been good to us. It is now that we thank them for all that we have. They also know that we have needs and they listen to us when we call upon them. Then let us join together to thank the God and the Goddess for those favors they have bestowed upon us. And let us also ask of them that which we feel we need; remembering always that the gods help only those who help themselves. And it harm none, do what thou wilt. Thus runs the Wiccan Rede. Remember it well: Whatever you desire, whatever you would ask of the gods, whatever you would do, be assured that it will harm no one, not even yourself. And remember that as you give, so it shall return threefold. Give of yourself, your love, your life, and you will be thrice rewarded. But send forth harm and that too will return thrice over. Beauty and strength are in the Lord and the Lady both. Patience and love, wisdom and knowledge.134 The priest then performed the Charge of the God, a common prose that is recited in traditional rituals. This charge describes the God in his various roles as a male deity. In comparison to the Charge of the Goddess, it is more recent and has fewer variations.

However, in this particular ritual, the verses and lines are almost matched. Despite the dichotomous gender approach, there is no sense of a hierarchy and the

133 Ibid. 134 Ibid. 44 audience/participants are provided with an impression of equality and balance between the two. The high priest, arms spread outward, recites:

I am the echo you hear in the forest deep And the warmth of the sun upon your face. I am the ageless sound of the ocean’s roar And the power that is felt in every wild place. I am the wheat that rustles low on the breezes And the spark that ignites the hearth fire. I am the passion and power and ecstasy That is reached at the end of desire… … I am your Lover, your Father, the Ancient One Take my hand and I’ll teach you the Dance Of the change of the seasons and the eye of the storm Of fertility, love, and romance. Remember always, my children, be merry. Hear the lilt of my music, so light And hold sacred my realm and all it sustains As you dance to my tune in the night.135

The priestess, arms also raised outwards, cited the Charge of the Goddess:

I am the harmonious tune of the songbird And the laughter of a gleeful child. I am the bubbling sound of the running brook And the scent of the flowers wild. I am the floating leaf upon the breeze And the dancing fire in the forest glade. I am the sweet smell of rains upon the soil And the rapture of passion when love is made… … I am your sister, your mother, the wise one. I wrap you gently in the warmth of my love. That which you seek you shall find within Not without, not below, not above. Remember always, my children, be reverent. Be gentle, loving and kind to each other

135 Ibid. 45 And hold sacred the Earth and its creatures. For I am the Lady: Creatrix and Mother!136

The priest knelt before the priestess, preparing to perform the next part of the ritual: drawing down the moon. According to Raven Grimassi, this is an “act in ritual magic [sic] in Wicca/Witchcraft that is designed to invoke Goddess consciousness, or in some cases to attract the etheric/astral essence of moonlight. Traditionally, a high priestess assumes the ritual posture of the moon goddess, and a high priest invokes the

Goddess into her through chants and ritual gestures.”137 This further signifies her as embodying the Goddess.

When the moon rides on high, as she crosses the sky, and the stars on her gown trail behind, then we Wiccans below are with love all aglow, just to see her so brightly enshrined on the night of a Full Moon, as we sing to the tune of the lady who watches above, we raise our song as she glides by so strong, and we bask in the light of her love.138 To complete this part of the ritual, the priestess addressed the circle as the

Goddess. Each line stresses the importance of equality – of solidarity – and the connection of the goddess to those in the circle, in her audience.

I am She who watches over thee, Mother of you all. Know that I rejoice that you do not forget me. To pay me homage at the full of the Moon is meet and right and brings joy unto yourselves even as it does to me. Know that, with my good Lord, I weave the skein of life for each and every one of you. I am at the beginning of life, and at its end; The Maiden, The Mother, and The Crone. Wherever you may be, if you seek me, know that I am always here, for I abide deep within you. Look, then, within yourself, if you would seek me. I am life and I am love. Find me and rejoice; for

136 Ibid. 137 Raven Grimassi. Encyclopedia of Wicca and Witchcraft. (Woodbury, Llewellyn Publications, 200), 128 138 Universal Pagan Temple. 46 love is my music and laughter is my song. Be true to me and I will ever be true to you. Love is the law and love is the bond. So mote it be.139 Finally, the priest thanked the gods for “that which sustains us,” passing around refreshments for the circle before closing it/clearing the temple.140 As various anthropological and religious scholars have noted, sharing a meal of some kind is an act of unification for the celebrants of rituals (not unlike Sedar dinners and wedding receptions).141 Even in between ritual pronouncements, the priest and priestess check in with a participant with dietary restrictions, noting that one of the snacks is not lactose free, but is nut free. This passage is also significant due to the value placed on sharing with those who are less fortunate and generally helping those in need. Here, the suggestion to “spread the love” they have known in the circle deepens this value, as this does not necessarily mean to share the message, but the positive, caring energy created.

Let us partake freely and, as we share, let us remember always to see to it that all that we have we share with those who have nothing… Eat and drink and be happy. Share and give thanks. So mote it be (and the group repeats). We came here together in love and friendship. Let us part the same way. Let us spread the love we have known in this circle outward to all, sharing it with those they meet. Lord and Lady, our thanks to you for sharing this time together. Our thanks for watching over us, guarding and guiding us in all things. Love is the law and love is the bond. Merry did we meet, merry do we part, merry may we meet again. The temple is now cleared. So mote it be.142 This full moon ritual, though, is only one type and, sometimes, explicitly Wiccan public rituals are difficult to find. Instead, practitioners must rely on eclectic ceremonies

(that do not identify as Wiccan or feminist), such as drumming circles, which illustrate the same invitational characteristics as those associated with witchcraft. However, these

139 Ibid. 140 Ibid. 141 Robin Fox. "Food and Eating: An Anthropological Approach." Social Issues Research Centre. 2008. Accessed June 2016. http://www.sirc.org/publik/foxfood.pdf 142 Universal Pagan Temple 47 drumming circles will still rely on the notion of the full moon as a catalyst for transformation.

As such, the purpose of many drumming circles is to establish your intentions and manifest a new reality. The ceremony has three rounds: the first is reserved for ridding yourself of negative emotions, people, and situations; the second is dedicated to visualizing the reality you want and bringing it to fruition; and the third is a meditative journey “into yourself to help you find the answers and guidance to step forth empowered and confident,” led by the facilitator.143 While a drumming circle could easily be performed on a waxing or a waning moon, the tangible element involved in the ritual – the rhythmic banging on the drums or shaking of the rattles – is what magnifies the full moon’s symbolism.

The structure of the ritual I attended is like any other in many regards. The room is lit by a few dimmed lamps and the chairs are arranged in the room in a circle. A large drum with four chairs– called the pow wow drum – sits in the center of the room, accessible to all. Anyone with drum mallets may also stand alongside those seated, so eight people may be drumming upon it at once (this does occur and the sound resonates throughout not just the room but my ribcage). We are instructed to move around the room in a clockwise direction. It was explained to us that you may feel the change in energy if you happen to move counterclockwise, as if you are going against a current. Before the directions are called, we ground ourselves using smudge spray, a liquid mixture made of water, a proprietary blend of medical grade essential oils, holy waters from around the world, sacred site essences from around the world, and bach flower essences. This is used

143 “Full Moon Drumming Circle.” The Crystal Garden. 2016. Accessed September 2015. http://thecrystalgarden.com/store/products/full-moon-drumming-circle-2 48 as an alternative to burning sage (yet another accommodation made in order to make the experience better for everyone as the smoke can be detrimental to those with any respiratory sensitivity).

The facilitator opens the circle by asking for blessings for all of those in the circle and beyond it:

We ask for a blessing for everyone in this circle tonight. We ask for a blessing for all the people who really wanted to come. . . . We ask for a blessing for them. We ask for a blessing for all of those who have been in the drumming circle in the past. And we ask for a blessing for all those who will still yet be in one of these full moon drumming circles in the future.144

Next, our facilitator calls the directions, further opening the circle and inviting energies of each into the circle for guidance, protection, etc. This portion of the ritual is the most important, both rhetorically and for the function of the ritual. The words chosen are particularly significant as they seem, at times, equal parts intentional and casual, as though developed in the moment. Here, the divine is the audience as we are inviting them into the circle, asking them to join and aid us, but so are the participants. We are settling into a state of mind to accept, to receive information that may change our realities. As such, each tenet of invitational rhetoric is present. First, in the east and the south, we invoke not only the energies of air and fire, but of equality:

We invite and invoke the energies of the east to our circle tonight. The energy of clarity, illumination, and the ability to see life from a greater perspective. We invite eagle, hawk, and owl to come in through this door and shine light and perspective for all of us… We invite and invoke the energies of the [south] into our circle tonight. The energy of healing, the healing of our hearts, the healing of our emotions, healing of our

144 Margaret Ann Lembo 49 relationships that we have, not only with others, but the relationship we have with ourselves. We invite snake and coyote to come through this south door to help us. . . . helping us to transform and transmute situations and also to help us to learn when it’s time to laugh at ourselves and our mistakes.145

Seeing life from a greater perspective and healing our relationships, particularly with ourselves, seems central to relationships constituted by power-with and not power-over.

Then, in the west, we invoke water and the tenet of self-determination, as we are told to trust our instincts, our knowledge, our experiences:

We invite and invoke the energies of the west into our circle tonight. The energy of introspection, the place that we go within ourselves to know the truth. We invite the energy of bear in her cave that helps us to know when doing nothing is sometimes just as powerful as doing something.146

Finally, in the north, we invoke earth and our ancestors. Additionally, in bringing our attention back to the center of the room, we invoke a connection with each other, the fifth element of spirit, and immanent value:

We invite and invoke the energies of the north. The energy of our ancestors, the energy of all those that have walked on this path before us. We invite vibration of White Buffalo Calf Woman, the 13 original clan mothers. . . . And we honor the sky above us as we raise our hands to the heavens and then we honor the earth beneath our feet as we touch Mother Earth (a nice forward bend). And then we honor each other because we are all related and we’re going to stand up and hold hands for a moment. We are one. And so it is.147

According to Foss and Griffin, the “essence of this principle is that every being is a unique and necessary part of the pattern of the universe and thus has value.”148 Here, this

145 Ibid. 146 Ibid. 147 Ibid. 148 Foss and Griffin, “Beyond persuasion,” 9 50 includes not only the individuals participating in the circle, but our ancestors and all the others we asked blessings for in the beginning of the ceremony.

The first round of drumming determines what each participant wants to remove from their lives. These can be surface things such as weight or deeply emotional things like the fear of letting go. Each person in the circle, including the facilitator, shares what they want to let go, though they have the option to pass. The second round of drumming begins with sharing as well, although this time we discuss what we would like to bring into our lives. In both rounds, the facilitator helps to frame the visualization in order for each individual to best achieve their aspiration. For example, when I shared that I aimed to rid myself of what was holding me back from finishing this thesis, it was suggested to me that I could ask for clarification in the second round. This, she explained, could work to provide insight on the root of the problem or provide clarity in the writing process.

Admittedly, writing these sentences now, this framing seems infinitely more significant than it did at the moment.

In the circle, change seems to be considered both a goal and byproduct of the communication that occurred. However, where change-as-goal in traditional rhetoric means change occurs in the audience, in this context, change-as-goal means that change occurs within the rhetor as he/she is also the audience. While the facilitator leads the ritual and helps to frame the way in which a participant approaches his/her visualization, it is not done out of any immediate benefit to the facilitator. Instead, the process is dialogic, occurring within an environment where the “audience members trust the rhetor and feel the rhetor is working with and not against them.”149 Due to this, there is a rhythm

149 Foss and Griffin, “Beyond persuasion,” 11 51 that develops and it slowly ends on its own each time. There is no time limit to the drumming, it continues until the group feels satisfied that they have accomplished their goals.

In both cases, the actions of the groups – leaders and participants alike – are aligned with the feminist values outlined by invitational rhetoric, yet neither group analyzed explicitly identifies as feminist. The former hints at a feminist affiliation in another video (the priest’s mother practiced Dianic witchcraft), but in the five-minute video, only a minute and a half is truly spent discussing feminism. The latter never once mentions the movement, though there is arguably a stronger implication of feminism in the sense that much of the group interaction is reminiscent of consciousness-raising via the model of personal sharing. It continues to beg the question: why not embrace feminism? If we are to call upon the power of the full moon to create change, why not do so using all of the tools available to us?

Home Altars

Across a variety of religions, images and objects are essential to a follower’s connection with the divine. As we have seen, though, witchcraft is heavily reliant on both language and imagery, not just to communicate, but to generate corporeal reality. While language controls and classifies the energy, the visual symbols and spaces that practitioners may utilize in order to represent and channel this energy are essential.

Images of the divine may also be utilized as symbols of protection – both of the structure in which they are placed and of the people who occupy it.

52 In patriarchal religions, while many of these sacred images and objects are present in the public sphere – churches, temples, and other places of worship – these altar spaces often exclude women, even while they are handmaidens to the structures. Instead, common of feminine narratives throughout history, women find solace in their homes and the construction of a home altar. The home altar tradition, while vital to the practice of religions like witchcraft, is also a form of patriarchal silencing of women’s knowledge.

According to feminist historian Gerda Lerner, very often women, “live their social existence within the general culture and, whenever they are confined by patriarchal restraint or segregation into separateness (which always has subordination as its purpose), they transform this restraint into complementarity (asserting the importance of woman’s function, even its ‘superiority’) and redefine it. Thus, women live a duality—as members of the general culture and as partakers of women’s culture.”150

In her book, Beautiful Necessity: the Art of Meaning of Women’s Altars, folklorist

Kay Turner notes that in ancient Greece, it was common for women to devote themselves to Hestia, the goddess of the hearth, ultimately marking women’s religious sovereignty.

Hestia and her hearth altar, Turner claims, gave “validity to an approach to religion that remained female-centered, private, personal, self- and family-connected. The value of a woman’s difference – her reproductive and maternal capability, but moreover her autonomy and sense of self-worth – were placed in the keeping of a tradition that quite simply would not let go.”151 As Turner explains, the “woman-centered altar tradition provides a splendid case in point for understanding folklore practice and performance

150 Kay Turner. Beautiful necessity: the art and meaning of women's altars. (New York: Thames and Hudson, 1999), 20 151 Ibid., 15 53 through a feminist orientation.”152 However, it is important to note that, in regards to men making altars, the literature suggests that while they make them, their wives, daughters, or mothers, will still tend to the structures. According to Turner, “Within traditional communities throughout the world women uphold a matrifocal legacy of religious custom. Family and community networks of women form an active religious base that, in a reversal of patriarchal hegemony, actually makes men dependent on women for divine intercession in insuring the prosperity and protection of the family.”153

Figure 1. A mother's primary altar. Kayleigh Howald, 2016.

This is, in fact, a particularly important reversal. As Starhawk notes, “Women are not encouraged to explore their own strengths and realizations; they are taught to submit to male authority, to identify masculine perceptions as their spiritual ideals, to deny their

152 Kay Turner and Suzanne Seriff “‘Giving an Altar:’ The Ideology of Reproduction in a St. Joseph’s Day Feast.” The Journal of American Folklore. 100, 398 (1987), 446 153 Turner. Beautiful necessity, 44 54 bodies and sexuality, to fit their insights into a male mold.”154 This, of course, seems to delegitimize the female experience as one that is whole, not simply a fragmented other.

Again, this fragmentation represents an unexceptional narrative in the lives of women as, being the second sex, their identities are developed in opposition to the societal ideal.

However, women have found ways around this discrimination, especially in regards to their spirituality and religiosity. Historically speaking, women often relied on images while performing religion, as the feminine emphasis on the visual due to the icons’ wider interpretations (compared to religious texts) became a tactic against the verbal misogyny of the Church. Here, meaning is “‘not so much imparted as appropriated in a dialectical process whereby it becomes subjective reality for the one who uses the symbol.’ When women make their relationships to divine images private and domestic, these images undergo a creative manipulation… its subjective and embodied status is something she alone assigns and interprets,” as illustrated by the figures in this chapter.155

In fact, altar-making can often border on being outright political. In her workbook,

Mountainwater accentuates the importance of politics in altar making, stating, “… we are saying that we are taking back those powers and realities that we once lost to the patriarchy. We are not ‘bowing down’ to their gods, but worshipping (giving worth-ship) to that which is divine within us as women, and in the earth and the universe as well. In this reclaiming we are performing an act of healing… giving a new message to the deep self that says, ‘She has returned, woman is worthy, and all will be well…’”156

154 Starhawk. The Spiral Dance, 10 155 Turner. Beautiful necessity, 123 156 Mountainwater. Ariadne’s Thread, 44 55 First and foremost, though, the altar is a “living instrument of communication, a channeling device for integration, reconciliation, and creative transformation.”157 It is an area that engages the witch and her chosen manifestation of the divine in a dialogue. This corroborates the purpose of the altar, according to some practitioners, as a kind of spiritual magnification. As artist Requa Tobert explains, “It is a place to concentrate spiritual power and experience. It is a thing I craft with my hands and heart and head… It is a focal point for placing intention, and a distillation of the beauty I recognize in my home, my land, and my family.”158 This distinctive focus on experience, though, is the essence of all feminist spirituality and is the cornerstone of self-determination, a principle that “comprises a feminist world view.”159 If self-determination assumes that people are the “experts on their own lives,” it also assumes that people must rely on their experiential knowledge to make decisions.160

Furthermore experience – simply the “process of coming into relationship with reality” – is uniformly available to all people.161 It does not privilege by gender, race, economic class, etc., nor does it have boundaries. Here, expression is unlimited, unruly, unhindered, free from the invisible walls put in place by patriarchy and other organized forms of oppression. As such, the types of images and objects that a practitioner chooses to incorporate into the design of her altar vary enormously. In many cases, the items used with the altar are constantly changing, making the materiality entirely situational.

Connections are made and remade. Items come and go on the surface of the altar. Like a snake shedding its skin, altar-makers shed the images that once defined them. As women

157 Turner. Beautiful necessity, 27 158 Ibid., 29 159 Foss and Griffin, “Beyond persuasion,” 9 160 Ibid., 365 161 Turner. Beautiful necessity, 25 56 move through the stages of their lives – either biologically or socially – their experiences change, as do the images needed to empower.

Certain images and objects, though, are common in home altars as they are in ritual. According to Scott Cunningham, in The Magical Household, “one object for each of the four elements can be placed on the altar to bring these influences” into the home.162

Conway suggests having “several smaller altars or devotional spaces around your home” in addition to the primary altar. She notes that these can be “shelves, ledges, or corner tables where you can arrange small statues, stones, shells, flowers, or other articles that remind you of a particular deity or deity aspect.”163

Figure 2. Empowerment. Kayleigh Howald, 2016

162 Cunningham and Harrington. The Magical Household, 166 163 Conway. Wicca, 123 57 However, an altar may be something as simple as the items seen in Figure 2.

Initially, one would see a relatively ordinary bookshelf: a home to the classics (well-worn copies of Gone with the Wind, The Catcher in the Rye, Walden, and All Quiet on the

Western Front) and magazines. However, in addition to the pumps and the lucky cat figurine, this collection has its own meaning. Here, the red high heels – purposely placed atop an often contradictory array of magazines (issues of Bitch, Ms., Nylon, The Knot, and Martha Stewart Weddings) – are a symbol of the power derived from the feminine, a product of a third wave upbringing. The figurine – a symbol of luck in Japan where my grandfather was stationed during his time in the Navy – once sat in my grandmother’s house, a piece in her collection of small knick-knacks. Its placement in this particular space is in honor of her, the mother of my mother, the root of my family and my feminism. The rituals performed here are in a space where the world seems endless – either through literature, activism, or fairytales – and my experiences with each informs the sense of empowerment.

Here, the fragmentation of the altar pieces is symbolic of women. The process is an archetype of the domestic arts – such as quilting – called femmage. The term, coined by Canadian artist Miriam Schapiro, is described as a combination of assemblage and collage or the joining of “seemingly disparate elements into a functional whole. In making home altars, this method is paramount in realizing the aesthetic of relationship that melds and projects women’s chosen social and spiritual values.”164 In other words, in the arrangement of images and objects, their value becomes more evident. As “sources of identification and connection with others,” the ordinary – sometimes seen in the form

164 Turner. Beautiful necessity, 125 58 of apples and rose petals – take on symbolic meanings.165 The layout of altars, in many ways, is a visible representation of immanent value. Each item is connected and valued, none more important than the next.

Figure 3. Secondary altar belonging to Author’s mother. Kayleigh Howald, 2016 In connecting the home altar tradition to other ritual forms, the ancestral connection that is often present exemplifies the quality of immanent value as well. The drive of experience and being surrounded by the divine (and ultimately feeling protected by it) largely stems from a desire to connect to the past. In many cases, this is an altar- maker’s direct familial past, as traditions and rituals are passed down through generations, often in a matrilineal pattern. In witchcraft, women who learn from their mothers or grandmothers typically label themselves hereditary witches (such as author and activist Zsuzsanna Budapest). Then, of course, there is the Goddess, the ultimate mother. As Starhawk explains, in the Craft, “we do not believe in the Goddess – we

165 Ibid., 125 59 connect with Her; through the moon, the stars, the ocean, the earth, through trees, animals, through other human beings, through ourselves. She is here. She is within us all.

She is the full circle: earth, air, fire, water, and essence – body, mind, spirits, emotions, change.”166 Women will dedicate altars to the Great Mother or even to maternity itself, reclaiming the position of women as subjects of maternity instead of objects as perpetuated by the social paternity bias. According to anthropologist Annette Weiner, while patriarchy has in some ways succeeded, it has failed to entirely dominate women’s regenerative powers. Instead, one way that “women prove the value and necessity of maternal images, histories, and processes is found in their maintenance and performance of the home altar tradition, inherited from the mother and renewed by each daughter.”167

The altars shown in Figures 1 through 4 demonstrate this matrilineal pattern. My mother’s altars (Figures 1 and 3) encompass her bookshelves, directly incorporating the importance of knowledge and a dedication to learning. As such, my own altars (seen in

Figures 2 and 4) are also housed on bookshelves as both an homage to this tradition.

Furthermore, items from both altars contain items that were significant to my grandmother. As with the previously mentioned lucky cat figurine, many of the shells, the blue stone, and the frog belonged to her and now adorn my mother’s altar space. This connectedness, to our ancestors, to our mothers, further enhances the notion of immanent value in these spaces. Here, objects and the people associated with them have significant worth.

Many witches’ altars also house their tools for ritual: cauldrons, athames, incense holders, candle snuffers, etc. According to Starhawk, the tools, “the physical objects we

166 Starhawk. The Spiral Dance 120 167 Turner. Beautiful necessity, 58 60 use in Witchcraft, are the tangible representatives of unseen forces. The mind works magic, and no elaborately forged knife or elegant wand can do any more than augment the power of a trained mind. The tools are simply aids in communicating with Younger

Self, who responds much better to tangibles than to abstracts.”168 Turner explains that this is also because touch is “persuasive contact… By handling objects, often bringing them off the altar itself and into intimate contact with her body, a woman stimulates a sense of affiliation with what the object represents.”169 Adler further delineates on the subject, explaining:

Just as Neo-pagans and Witches define magic in a pragmatic way, the trappings surrounding Witchcraft and other magical systems can also be understood without mystification. Chants, spells, dancing around a fire, burning candles, the smoke and smell of incense, are all means to awaken the ‘deep mind’ – to arouse high emotions, enforce concentration, and facilitate entry into an altered state… [Isaac] Bonewits has said some of the most sensible words on this subject, observing that ‘mandalas,’ ‘sigils,’ ‘pentacles,’ and ‘yantras’ are all pictures to stimulate the sense of sight; ‘mudras’ or ‘gestures’ stimulate the kinesthetic sense; ‘mantras’ or ‘incantations’ stimulate the sense of hearing. The use of props, costumes, and scenery can also be seen as a method of stimulating the senses.170 In many cases, the home altar creates a space where mind, body, and spirit are one

– often counter to hegemonic ideologies. The structure of the altar often informs this desire as the layout and placement of the objects as well as how the body is situated before the altar constitutes the flow of the energy from woman to Divine and back again.

Not unlike the practice of feng shui, the material reality of the structure, its “thingliness,” constitutes an “energy field for accessing and disseminating spiritual power that results in

[a] productive relationship.”171 Many new age writers suggest placing the altar at the

168 Starhawk. The Spiral Dance, 105 169 Turner. Beautiful necessity, 136 170 Adler, Drawing Down the Moon, 157 171 Ibid., 98 61 “center of the working area or on the eastern edge of the circle,” making it easier to work around.172 However, many women set up their altars in their bedrooms – so they may rise each morning and greet their deity. Most often altars are placed where a woman may ensure that the three external conditions for invitational rhetoric are met: safety, value, and freedom. This may be in a bedroom, an office, a kitchen, or even outdoors.

Figure 4. Author’s primary altar. Kayleigh Howald, 2016.

Again, the altar is contained on a bookshelf, this time keeping company with the vinyl records on the shelves below. Being the primary altar, this space contains the tools for ritual: candles, salt, incense, candle snuffer, etc. Although facing the south, the altar is directly opposite from the bed and desk, creating a constant energy flow. Most importantly, it is housed in a room that is a sanctuary; free from distractions, noise, and unnecessary clutter, it allows room for spellwork and for an exchange with the divine; it is a space for reflection and creation.

172 Conway. Wicca, 122 62 Despite the variations of the altars, there is a single common theme: the invitation of dialogue. Turner explains that the altar practice “asserts the trustworthiness of women’s communication through sacred codes—prayers, orations, songs, and accompanying ritual gestures, such as lighting candles, burning incense, and consecrating the four elements—which invite deities into intimate dialogue with them.”173 Arguably, with the divine as audience, a practitioner does not have much of a choice in regards to persuasion (it seems unlikely a god or goddess would respond to Aristotelian artistic appeals or Burkeian theory). Instead, practitioners must rely on invitational rhetoric’s communication through offering. Much like a physical offering, the action of offering perspectives as a rhetorical tactic is “a gesture of a covenant; it is a sign of thanks and a signal that the desired relationship is intact and can be relied upon.”174 As Blake Octavian

Blair mentions in his article “An Offering on Offerings,” words alone can “serve as a powerful offering when you have nothing else. With all the time, energy, and creative effort put into the composing of a prayer, song, poem, or chant, it holds an enormous amount of heartfelt magickal energy.”175 He later explains that performing community service can be considered a form of offering because “your time is valuable, so why not donate your time to a cause that is valuable to the spirit you’re working with?”176

Of course, while Foss and Griffin (along with Gearhart and Johnson) likely intended offering to be between people, it is important to note that the divine is not the only audience at the altar. Like any other ritual, the person performing the ritual is both

173 Ibid., 131 174 Ibid., 134 175 Blake Octavian Blair. “An Offering on Offerings.” In Llewellyn’s 2015 Witches’ Companion: An Almanac for Contemporary Living. (Woodbury: Llewellyn Publications, 2015), 195 176 Ibid., 196 63 rhetor and audience and the willingness to yield – to meet “another’s position ‘in its uniqueness, letting it have its impact’” – occurs as an internal dialogue as well.

It can be argued that home altars provide women with an arguably rare spiritual outlet: one that focuses on their needs, their experiences, their bodies, and their desires. It creates a space where women do not have to be seen as “other,” but can instead be the ideal. Based in creating relationships – between woman and Divine, family, earth, and identity – altars are places of healing and power, creation and destruction. Whether praying to a God or a Goddess, women’s spirituality seems to stem from this manipulation of images in their own spaces, a room of one’s own, so to speak. Turner, in her own conclusion, describes the altar as a “sacred and artful instrument for assuring the beautiful necessity of life itself.”177 However, I would suggest that the altar is even more than an instrument, but, at times, a living organism – constantly in flux, in a sort of perpetual motion so long as its creator remains engaged with it.

In the home altar tradition, the mode of communication is a far cry from conventional. When rituals are performed here, the communication is dialogic, interactive. In a majority of its life, however, the home altar communicates through a silent, steady presence. These little creations – dedications to deity, family, life, and love

– are spaces of invitation, but also daily reminders of the power women have when they feel safe. The analysis of these spaces holds even more significance when it is turned reflectively inward: in creating connections to our pasts, what can we learn about ourselves? What can we learn about others? Can we come together in ways that benefit us now? That connects women to women to form bonds and alliances against patriarchy?

177 Conway. Wicca, 165 64 V. CONCLUSION

Although it remains unclear why witches, despite their specific tradition, would not immediately embrace feminism, this study has attempted to claim that whether practitioners agree or disagree, they are performing feminism. This chapter describes the contributions made by the study, examines its limitations, and provides suggestions for further research.

Contributions of the Study

This study discovered that, based on the values outlined by Foss and Griffin, feminist ideology abounds in the practices of contemporary witchcraft. First, my analysis demonstrates how textualizing rituals makes them more accessible. To someone outside the religion, the bells and whistles of a ritual, literally or figuratively, can possibly be intimidating. By flattening the ritual in this way, we are able to focus on the language of witchcraft. At first, the language is simple. This is necessary as one must craft a ritual so that his or her intentions are clear; vagueness in ritual can have unforeseen consequences.

In this one-sided dialogue, there is no argument, only a witch’s goals and a desire to have them completed with the help of a divine audience. As either the rituals become more complex or the witch becomes more confident in performing the foundation rituals, the language develops a poetic feeling. The intended message remains precise, but it also has a rhythm, a progression. It is a movement toward, not away. It is outward and inward, like the tides. The emphasis on these motions, the beauty in the back and forth pulse and

65 cadence, allows for the application of invitational rhetoric, which – despite its criticisms and the backlash it often faces within the rhetorical field – is a more approachable form of rhetoric. It does not require besting an opponent in a battle of logic and wit nor does it metaphorically boast and shout. In applying the theory to a nature-based, goddess- centered religion, one can more easily see the quiet dignity in the approach and the benefits that it offers to the field.

This abstraction also demonstrates to Wiccan communities that feminism is undoubtedly found in our rituals. Though a practitioner may believe that their own goals are not aligned with this cause (the “I’m not a feminist, but…” response to discussions about gender), the language paints a much different picture. In examining core rituals, this analysis proves that equality, self-determination, and immanent value are necessary values in the practice of witchcraft. In other words, if a ritual were devoid of even one of these, its classification as one of Wiccan witchcraft could be rigorously questioned and rhetorical situation can be evaluated in much the same manner.

In public rituals, the importance of such principles is magnified. Witches involved in ritual with others become more aware of sharing, offering, and willingness to yield and the importance of each in religious interactions. We are more conscious of our efforts to be inclusive of others and their needs, especially in terms of comfort and safety. Whether these needs are emotional or physical, the desire to make others feel at ease during a ritual seems at times compulsory for effective work. The energy of the circle must be positive, as noted in this analysis, as a sign of respect and sincerity. As such external conditions are also prerequisites for invitational rhetoric to occur, this observation further

66 supports that the performance of witchcraft is indeed feminist. By capitalizing on this awareness, we have the capacity to create more feminist spaces.

When these values and these spaces are then turned inward, to the home and hearth, we are able to reflect upon them. At the home altar, invitational rhetoric is used to recognize that each day, we create spaces for ourselves that are safe, where we are valued and free. This is important to how the Wiccan community is regarded because their desire to have an easily accessible space that is secure and sacred can be widely understood.

Furthermore, as demonstrated through personal examples, altars do not have to be elaborate or all-encompassing. In fact, the diminutive stature and relative normality of these alcoves and their objects allows for a larger gesture to made, compared to expensively created and maintained altars. Instead, there is a celebration of the ordinary as extraordinary, in the things that are frequently overlooked. This is not unlike the effect that feminism has had on culture and on academic fields. Feminism allowed scholars to recover and explore women’s time-honored domestic creations as art and their diaries, letters, and cookbooks as rhetoric. In a society where women’s experiential knowledge has been routinely silenced, feminism has allowed a witch’s edifice dedicated to her past, present, and future to be regarded as both.

At its core invitational rhetoric is about conversations; not just about having them, but having effective ones. In the end, this is the cornerstone of witchcraft as well, as demonstrated in the dialogic nature of rituals – both publicly and privately. To be a strong witch is to be a strong communicator, not only with the divine, but with the self and with others. A strong feminist, I would argue, has a similar skill set. In all three extents, having the ability to display self-determination, to recognize immanent value, to promote

67 equality, and to offer oneself through a willingness to yield establishes the groundwork for positive change.

Limitations and Suggestions for Further Research

In my research, I encountered two key limitations, both of which stem from essential factors of witchcraft that often make it difficult to pin down. First is the fact that witchcraft is an unorganized religion with a wide array of traditions to guide one’s path.

Second, is that the practice of witchcraft is based on individual experience. For those involved, these aspects are certainly benefits as many witches begin their spiritual journeys in patriarchal religions.178 Ultimately, for a researcher and a rhetorician – accustomed to analyzing speeches and more conventional text – the absence of direct passages to analyze can create hurtles in the process of critical analysis. Furthermore, while the structure of a ritual may be generally the same from coven to coven or solitary to solitary, many other aspects may change: words, tools, clothing, place, time, etc. These changes may be subtle or radically different, yet a remarkably similar outcome or affect may be produced. Instead, the efficacy of a ritual is based on personal comfort levels, abilities, strengths, weaknesses, and, above all, experiences.

Additionally, there are certain rituals and texts (many of which are included in this study) that lend themselves well to rhetorical criticism, but others are not so easily examined. Often, this is due to the text being based in traditional Wiccan practice, using

“thee” and “thou” in contemporary practices. Through the analytic process, several questions came to mind: in linguistically setting the religion so far back in the past, does

178 Kathryn Rountree. Embracing the Witch and the Goddess: Feminist Ritual-makers in New Zealand. (London: Routledge, 2004), 88 68 it leave room for the future in conversations? Not so much the future of the individual witch or even the coven, but on a global scale? An environmental, earthly scale? Further research could be done specifically on traditional groups to attempt to discover what implications language choice has on social and political actions and attitudes in these communities. Further research could analyze rituals and/or writings from the Gardnerian

Wiccan revival up to the present alongside feminist discourse of each coordinating time period. While I feel this thesis has determined that contemporary witchcraft practices may promote feminist values and are therefore feminist acts, it would be interesting to explore whether or not this was always the case or if witches stood with the status quo when it came to women’s liberation.

Finale

In 1991, Shekhinah Mountainwater explained that there are times when this path is not easy. She wrote:

It is a path of freedom and self-directedness. There are times when, as witches, we have no one to turn to but the Goddess Herself. There are times when people around us, at the place we live, work, or go to school, will not understand our religion. There are times when we feel like outcasts. . . .But the rewards are tremendous. . . .Our freedom gives us a strength that can never be taken away from us, that can never be matched by the dependency-producing hierarchical faiths. . . .[and] as we each find our inner strengths and come together to share them, we will find that being a witch in today’s world will become easier.179

While there are certainly days when the path is not any smoother, any less weathered and worn by millennia of bigotry and ignorance, the rewards are, in fact, still tremendous. For on the days when the going gets tough, you start to remember. You remember that the

179 Mountainwater. Ariadne’s Thread, 255 69 community you belong to, the religion you call home, is filled with women and men dedicated to a life of power-with. You remember your roots; in the earth, in the ocean, in the sun, and in the wind. You remember those that came before you and those that will come after you. You remember… and then you sit at your altar, open a circle, bend and shape, bend and shape, and bend and shape until you and the Goddess can work towards making the world a better place.

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