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When Sophia Reed was a pre-teen, her southern Catholic mother gave her and her siblings an option: test out any religion you want and find one that resonates. After some exploration, Reed landed on a practice that suited her best — witchcraft.

Her journey began with a book her mother gifted her, “The Wiccan Rede.”

It’s a handbook on Wicca, a Western pagan religion that has 

She immersed herself in books and the golden age of the Internet, where answers to the world’s questions lived on message boards and in underground PDF-sharing sites.

As she explored the deeper history of the craft, Reed says traditional Wicca began to feel disconnected from her experience as a Black practitioner.

“It was sort of a really hard reckoning moment for me,” she said. “I would read things like ‘If you dream about a Negro man, beware of upcoming circumstances,’ or, ‘If you cross paths with a voluptuous Black woman, your fertility is going to be boosted.’ It ultimately left me feeling a little lost, wanting to find other Black women who were on this similar journey.” 

Reed says mainstream witchcraft has become more focused on aesthetics than substance.

,” the trend of white women who are drawn to perhaps more superficial Wiccan practices.

This can be “wellness” businesses like Goop selling body-balance magnets or borrowing from other cultures without understanding the context, such as the practice of burning white sage used in Indigenous communities.

“We’ve moved into this era where witchcraft has become very commercialized, and so whether the information is true or whether the work is effective doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s about how cute and approachable it is and how smooth your crystals are.” 

Reed wanted to find a practice where her witchcraft and Blackness would go hand in hand. 

After graduating from high school, she moved to New York for college. While working a front desk job, she met one of her first friends in the city — a practitioner of Dominican witchcraft, who remains a close friend today.

That friendship marked the beginning of Reed’s education in Black spiritual traditions, including Hoodoo Root Work — the form of witchcraft she now specializes in.

Hoodoo comes from West Africa and was born from trying to preserve religion and culture under enslavement. 

“Hoodoo exists exclusively because of slavery,” Reed said. 

“As a lot of Black American traditions, it was born out of finding a way to survive oppression and harm to our communities and lives. And so the women learned how to make teas that would keep their children healthy, they learned how to plant things that would keep bugs away from their homes.”

Hoodoo is also about using what you have on hand: the roots in your yard, herbs in your garden, the leaves from your tea. 

Reed says it relies on your ancestors, whereas more commercialized witchcraft lacks emotional connection. She wears her grandmother’s ring every day and keeps a photo of her at her altar.

Most of all, Reed uses her magic to help family, friends and the community in an approachable way. 

During the COVID-19 pandemic, she opened her online store, 

, where she sells mojo bags and enchanted scrubs that are blessed and concentrated.

Nowadays, she can be found as the on-call witch for her family and friends (she’s put a lot of photos of exes and enemies in jars and freezers, so be nice), reading tarot cards and mixing herbs (the root High John the Conqueror is her favorite).

She’s dedicated to the craft, but Reed says it’s still something she enjoys playing with.

Almost everything she owns is purple, from her sheets to her cat’s collar. She’s had two black cats, Huey and Perfect. She keeps moons around her at all times, including her first tattoo.

Although Reed wants people to understand the historical and cultural context of witchcraft, she doesn’t want to discourage people from the practice. You just have to do it in a respectful way, she says.

“It’s not Harry Potter magic,” she said. “It’s about intention and moving in the right direction. We don’t know everything. We’re never going to know everything.”

“And if you can’t experience a little bit of suspension of disbelief in the hope that you are able to make something better or something good out of this world, you’re stripping yourself of your own magic.”

“Your intuition will always be your best guide. Practicing ways to trust yourself and listen to yourself is a really good way to start. I think we hold ourselves back with our minds a lot, and we doubt ourselves. Listen to the song that has been stuck in your head, pick up the book that you’ve been thinking about for weeks and see why you’re being drawn to those things.”

“Read a lot of stuff from a lot of different people. You don’t want to silo your spiritual journey. And there are lots of little things that you can pick up from all kinds of places without it being appropriation or disrespectful. People want to share their message, but you never know what message is right for you.”

You can find Reed at Minnehaha Falls practicing. “If you see a little Black witch burning candles in the words, leave me alone, I’m having a moment,” she said. The best stores for supplies in Minneapolis are 

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Sophia Reed has been a practicing witch for nearly 20 years. Her spiritual journey brought her to Hoodoo Root Work, a type of witchcraft from West Africa that was born out of slavery and emphasizes working with what you have on hand.

Season of the witch: How one Minnesotan found her place among the craft

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