I Am Not a Broom (Part Two)

Last week I wrote about coming out of the broom closet and why I did it. And I said that maybe I’ve just been lucky, but, despite living in a small town in Pennsylvania, so far nothing drastic has happened.

In fact, most of the things that have happened have been funny.

I started venturing out of the broom closet by wearing my pentacle. Granted, I tended to keep it tucked in when I was home in Kittanning and only wore it openly in Pittsburgh where I worked at a variety of temp jobs.

The results?

Well, for one thing, I have dark hair and dark eyes, and if I had a dime for everyone who asked me if I was Jewish I could take everyone who is reading this out for a nice dinner somewhere.

And this includes one of the “Pamphlet Pushers” in downtown Pittsburgh.  (I’m sorry, but if you’re going to stand on a street corner impeding the flow of pedestrian traffic during lunch hour when people are trying to get something to eat and get back to work on time, I’m not going to say nice things about you.)

Anyhow, I saw her looking at me as I made my way past her to Wendy’s.  On my way back, sadly, the light was red and I had to wait to cross the street.  I was careful not to make eye contact, but she came up to me anyhow and tried to give me a piece of religious literature, which annoyed me to begin with – I hate people shoving their beliefs on others.  I never thought it was right when I was Christian and I’m even less tolerant of it now.

But I politely said, “No thank you.”
She replied, “But this one is written for Jewish people.”
“Ma’am, I’m not Jewish.”
“But you’re wearing a Star of David.”
“No, ma’am.  A Star of David has six points, this has five.”

Fortunately the light changed and I managed to get away before I had to explain any further and probably give the poor dear a heart attack.

(Seriously folks, if you’re going to try to convert someone, please know what you are trying to convert them from.  Trying to turn people away from their religion is bad enough, but to be utterly clueless about what that religion is… All I can do is shake my head.)

Not all my (mis)adventures happened in Pittsburgh though.

The one that sticks out the most from Kittanning was a trip to the ER at Armstrong County Memorial Hospital.  I don’t remember why I was there, but the person doing the intake was going through the standard questions and came to:
“Religion.”
Taking a deep breath I replied “Wicca.”
“What?”
“Wicca.”
*frowning at the screen*  “How do you spell that?”
“W-I-C-C-A.”
The frown deepened and her fingers tapped some keys, and to this day I am probably listed as “other.”

But my favorite out of the broom closet stories came from one of my least favorite temp jobs in Pittsburgh.

It was a miserable working environment, but it was there that I met Robyn. I’d noticed her looking at my pentacle and I knew it was only a matter of time before she asked me about it, so when she approached my desk one day I knew it was time.  I didn’t really know Robyn yet so I braced myself for the usual conversation. (If you’ve never had it, the usual conversation starts with “Nice (or interesting) necklace.”)   Robyn, however, was a little more forthright than that.  She marched up to my desk, looked me in the eye, and said, “Are you a witch?”  Well, there went my prepared speech, right out the window that we didn’t have.   (We worked in a vault in a basement.)

Robyn — and her mother — both ended up finding their paths as well, and Robyn and I had a great time at work.  (Well, as great a time as was possible there.)

One of our other co-workers, Valerie, was very involved in her church.  She kept saying that she “didn’t believe in VooDoo.”  (Um, okay, but one: we’re not asking you to, and two: that’s a whole different religion.)

Anyhow, at Samhain I put a plastic cauldron on my desk — the kind that kids use to go trick or treating — and I kept it filled with candy which was available to anyone who wanted some.  Another co-worker related the following:

Valerie had helped herself to some candy and the other (more tolerant) co-worker commented to her that “For all you’re afraid of them you sure don’t seem to mind eating their candy.”

Valerie’s reply?  “It’s wrapped in plastic.  They can’t do anything to it.”

(Plastic stops magic.  Who knew?)

Anyhow, Robyn and I had a great time imagining Valerie coming to work wrapped in Saran wrap so we couldn’t do anything to her.

So, yes, most of my experience have been funny, but I do realize such is not the case for everyone and that many still feel uncomfortable with the thought of coming out – or unable to for a variety of reasons.

But for those who are out, I’d love to hear your stories about what happened when people found out.

Advertisements

Posted on September 4, 2013, in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. I’ve only been spotted by one person who actually I work with.

    She came up to me out of the blue and asked me if I was a “white witch”. I was somewhat taken aback as I don’t wear the pentagram nor any other commonly recognised pagan/witchy symbols. I don’t flaunt it but if I’m asked a direct question I’ll normally answer so I said “no – I’m a witch” ” But you ARE a WHITE witch” ” No I’m a witch”. But you’re nice – you must be a WHiTE witch”. At that point I gave up – it was easier to just agree with her….

  2. I’ve been given the “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” line more times than I can count. I really have to restrain myself from replying with “Keep asking me stupid, offensive, and ignorant questions and find out.” I just remind myself that some people really don’t understand… and then I try to educate them. It doesn’t always work, but sometimes I can drive in an little wedge of information — and hope it grows.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: