Banned From Knowledge
Author: Libby
Posted: August 27th. 2006


There are a lot of articles out there on being in the broom closet and lots about being out and accepting who you are. But what I haven’t seen is any on being actually physically banned from Paganism, the situation that I’m in now.

My mother and I have a somewhat tumultuous relationship. We’re very different people; she’s practical and insanely neat, I’m messy, scatterbrained and imaginative. It results in a lot of arguments. Then there are trust issues. She doesn’t trust me since she caught me skiving school and I don’t trust her--well, for a few reasons, I suppose.

My mother is Catholic, although she only goes to church twice a year (Easter and Christmas.) When I told her about Wicca, when I was about twelve, she nodded and decided to investigate. I lent her some books; she looked it up on the Internet, came back to me and told me it was ok as long as I didn’t use any candles. I had thought she was going to go off the walls. Instead, I was thrilled.

I didn’t have to hide my books any more and this resulted in me buying a lot more. It was great! I was happy, and for about a year and a half, everything went swimmingly.

Then we moved.

I do not do well with change. If my friends and I have a routine like going to the park after school to hang out, I will go in snow, sleet or hail. I usually eat the same thing for lunch every day for about three months and then switch to something similar for another two months. Moving shook me up pretty badly. I hated the new school. Moreover, I lived an hour away from my best friends, all of whom seemed to be getting along fine without me. I went from having a great bunch of friends and being well known to a depressed nobody.

Change. I don’t like it.

My mother and stepdad left for work early, leaving me in the house for a bit on my own. Often before school I had what I can only describe as stage fright. I felt sick, dizzy, cold all over, my stomach hurt and I had to keep going to the toilet. A couple of days, not often, I simply stayed at home, in bed, without telling anyone. I read, I cried, I waited. One day, however, I got caught. Mum came home early.

She was pretty shocked. I’ve always been a pretty good obedient person and I’d never gotten into serious trouble before. My mother got called into school, we had a horrible talk with my new guidance teacher (whom I disliked simply because she wasn’t my old one.)

Then came punishment. Grounding was no use;I don’t go anywhere except to the library and sometimes into town on the weekends. Mum decided to take all of my Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs away. I thought that that was pretty fair. Then came the shocker.

She decided to take away everything I had to do with Paganism. My books, tarot cards, Bast statue… what tore me up the most was the removal of my pentacle. I wore it every day and it was like an extension of me. It was locked up in the garage with everything else.

Those were hard times, and I felt pretty damn depressed. All of these things had been helping me though the change, keeping me going, and now they were gone. Whenever I felt nervous, I used to pull my pentacle out and fiddle with it. I couldn't do that anymore.

That was about three months ago. All of my Buffy stuff was returned to me, but all of my Pagan gear still lies locked up in the garage. I’m banned from Pagan websites and shops. The only thing I risk it for is Witchvox, and even then I’m paranoid about deleting the history because in fact my mum has raked through it once or twice. I’ve snuck into the garage a couple of times to check on everything, take in the dusty smell of much loved books. Last time I went in, my statue and tarot cards were missing. I can’t ask about them because that would be telling I’d been in there.

How do I get by? I still call myself Wiccan but it feels like memory is fading. Speaking with my two friends who are practising Pagans is like an overseas phone call to my memory: some things are fuzzy.

So I improvise, out in my garden, barefoot after school (which I attend regularly) . I breathe in the smell of the flowers that are just starting to bloom (we’re having a late Spring here in Scotland.) I put a flower behind my ear, breathe in the fresh air and set up a natural altar on our patio steps. The elements- a feather for air, a heap of mud for earth, a bottle of volvic from my school bag for water and a pretty red stone for fire. Sometimes I just sit there and close my eyes and listen. Meditating, I suppose.

In the mornings I can get up early and try to find a good spot in my house to see the sunrise. I wake up in the middle of the night to look at the stars. I take a detour after school to see who has the prettiest gardens.

I can’t read Living Wicca but I can delve up Greek myths from my childhood; I can revisit The Mists of Avalon. I can’t read tarot cards, but I can learn about playing cards.

I had thought, perhaps, that this ban might separate me from the God and Goddess, but instead it has made me see what books could not: what my religion is really about. So I don’t have statues or candles or the like: you still can’t ban nature. Before the ban I did some of these things, but now this is my only way and that makes it so much stronger.

I love books. I love to learn. There is nothing better than that sudden devouring knowledge that all of us newbies indulge in. But sometimes we need to put down the books and go outside and experience it all instead of reading about it. Even if we don’t have to.

http://www.witchvox.com/va/dt_va.html?a=ukgb6&c=teen&id=10869

Agree you don't need a tarot deck,but give me one any day over playing cards.Found pentacles scare people.I prefer stones amulets.A pentacle is like an in your face cross.

OUt of the mouth of babes.

I loved it, most refreshing. Especially from someone so young

Amazing how we sometimes for get what is really at the root of everything. I was truly moved by the fact that though she was being "punished" she was in actuality being forced to become enlightened to what was around her and what could never be taken away from her.