Why I practice magic? Because she heals me, as a queer, as a black mixed-race woman and a spirit committed to the struggle. Mom taught me how to heal my dog using energy when I was 10. At 13 when I was jealous that Natalie was trying to steal my man, mom and I did a spell. I spent hours talking to the trees, to the mountain and sitting on the stump watching the sun set. At 21 I joined Casa Atabex Ache. A healing space for women of color. There I learned about cleansing spaces with music, florida water, why we wear white, how to call in the directions, how to scream away the racism that’s stuck in our bodies and how to heal my sisters. It was there that I met Priestess Luisah Teish after being forever changed by her book, Jambalaya. In Brazil I watched eyes roll into the back of folks heads as Chango and Oshun took over their bodies. And I learned I am a daughter of Oya. A warrior, goddess of the graveyard, maker of change. Today I read many many books about Black Magic at Emory while completing my PhD in religion. After every breakup, every fight, every hard and confusing time in my life I seek magic. I come back to it. It’s life.