The Value of Voodoo | Essence

Second lines are a hallmark of New Orleans culture—they’re recited on a variety of occasions, including funerals. But there’s an often-overlooked connection between the solemn procession that precedes a funeral, accompanied by dancing while a brass band plays a hymn known as a dirge, and one of the world’s most misunderstood religions.

“This is voodoo in its purest form,” says Cinnamon Black, a tour guide at the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum. “The spirituality and the music move people. They take you to another level physically and mentally.”

Black is what is known as a “voodoo nee”: a person trained in the religious practice like a priestess. Voodoo originated in the West African country of Benin and later took shape in Haiti during the transatlantic slave trade. Black was initiated into it in the Crescent City. “It’s a way of life in the city of New Orleans,” she says. “It’s reflected in the food, the music and the culture.”

The complexity of voodoo stretches back to its most famous figure: Marie Laveau. Born in 1801, Laveau was a free Creole healer and herbalist from Louisiana who also practiced rootwork or hoodoo, a form of spiritual folk magic. She offered her services in her home and in New Orleans’ famous Congo Square, where enslaved and free people from West Africa and the Caribbean colonies of Martinique and Saint-Domingue, now Haiti, were allowed to meet on Sundays, dance and play drums.

“She had clients from all over the country who came for spiritual readings and healing practices — so voodoo had a commercial aspect that made it an integral part of New Orleans culture in the 19th century,” says Richard Turner, Ph.D., professor of African-American religious history at the University of Iowa. “The commercialization of voodoo today is part of the stereotyping of the religion. It’s tied to the tourism industry — the idea that voodoo is about sticking pins in dolls and cursing people, when in reality it’s a healing religious tradition.”

The misrepresentation of voodoo, which is based on the worship of various deities and a connection to ancestors and spirits of the dead, dates back to the late 18th century. “One reason for the demonization of voodoo is that it was the religious tradition that enlivened the Haitian Revolution,” Turner explains, “which defeated Napoleon’s armies and forced the French plantation owners to flee to New Orleans. Haiti became the first black republic in the Western Hemisphere ruled by former slaves, and it was an example the United States did not want to repeat.”

When a series of communal laws were passed in the 19th century restricting slaves’ ability to assemble, voodoo evolved into an underground religion shrouded in mysticism rather than the empowering spiritual practice it was intended to be.

“Voodoo means make And apply,” explains Priestess Miriam, who founded the Voodoo Spiritual Temple in 1990 with her late husband, Priest Oswan Chamani. “What people think of today as voodoo practice is superficial. They could never understand the deeper emotional transformation that these people in Haiti went through to come up with a perfect plan and stand up and carry it out.” This is the core of the work of Black, Priestess Miriam and other practitioners — like Sen Elias, owner of the hoodoo shop Crescent City Conjure.

“These practices teach us that when you or your family encounter resistance, you have to take action – but ultimately it’s about the common good,” says Elias.

It can take many forms: you sprinkle red brick dust outside your door to bring prosperity; you use oils or charm sachets (known as gris-gris) to manifest an intention; or you seek out a priest or priestess for spiritual counseling, just as you would seek guidance from a pastor. “We do readings, we believe in meditation, we believe in prayer, and we believe that we have a sixth sense and the ability to talk to something higher than ourselves—and that we can receive messages,” Elias explains.

Although lingering misconceptions about the “dark” nature of voodoo still lead to some uncomfortable inquiries (“People always call me when they’re angry with someone and want to know how to get rid of them without going to jail,” jokes Black), most are looking for answers: “People bring their secrets to your home to see how you can help them through their crisis,” says Priestess Miriam.

It was a voodoo priestess who helped Turner process his mother’s transition when she fell into a coma in the summer of 1997. “She gave me a reading. She prayed in every corner of my house with sacred incense from the Bible. And I set up an ancestral altar for my mother in my house because voodoo practitioners strongly believe in respecting your elders and that ancestors have an influence on happiness in life,” he says. “I found that very moving at a time when I was grieving.”

Although Turner ultimately did not become a follower of voodoo, his brief personal encounter reveals a truth that Black hopes to convey about this ancient religion that still arouses widespread curiosity. “You don’t choose voodoo,” says Black. “Voodoo chooses you.”