A friend of mine, a Wiccan priestess in New Jersey, tells this story to illustrate the problems Pagans have with the media. A few years ago, she was asked to appear on Geraldo Rivera's show for Halloween. "We really want to do a serious program," the pre-interviewer gushed but added, "Of course we want everyone to come in costume." My friend had the quick wit to reply, "And I suppose that when you do your Easter show, the pope will dress in an Easter bunny suit." She turned the show down.
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| Most of the time, we no longer get confused with Satanists. | ||
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My own experience this year was much tamer, but it still left a bad taste in my mouth. I haven't belonged to a coven in 18 years. I don't use the word "witch" all that often to describe myself. With the exception of several large solstice celebrations, my rituals tend to be private meditations. This past Halloween, I spent most of my time helping to create a fun evening for my 9-year-old son. But because I wrote "Drawing Down the Moon," the media is always after me, particularly during October. So, recently I agreed to do a simple phone interview with a very reasonable and respectable public radio show in the South.
The interviewers kept on wanting to know what I "did" as a Wiccan practitioner. Despite 27 years in Wicca, and 32 years in the media, I felt fraudulent as I answered. I tried to steer the conversation toward the philosophy of earth-based spirituality, which is what I like to talk about, but the interviewers kept wanting to know what I "did." After I offered a few half-hearted phrases about the Celtic new year, reverence for our ancestors, and seasonal celebrations in a circle, I realized that the interviewers weren't really interested in those things; they assumed that this thing called "a Wiccan practitioner"--whatever that was--did something exotic and arcane, and I wasn't living up to their expectations. It was a sensation I had had in interviews before.
