KC’s growing Vodou community emerges from shadows to dispel religion’s misconceptions

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If asked to describe Vodou a lot of people probably would say the religion involves dark magic, zombies, and handmade dolls pierced with needles.

It doesn’t.

Those things however, are a misconstrued representation of a misunderstood religion, and some might be surprised to learn the truth about how a growing number of Vodou and other similar African-based religions are truly practiced here in the Kansas City area and elsewhere.

Vodou, like many other religions, is about spiritual healing, enlightenment and community.

For many years the Vodou faithful have kept their beliefs quiet and practiced the religion in private, fearful of any repercussions they might endure due to long-standing taboos surrounding the worship of deities and the intentional spread of misinformation.

But that is changing. New and longtime Vodou practitioners, priests and priestesses are stepping out of the shadows and hosting panel discussions on speaking to the dead. And sacred African rituals honoring African deities are being held on the waterfront in a local park.

Nicole Johnson, a substance abuse therapist, has been studying Vodou for nearly three years. Raised Catholic, she embarked on a journey of spiritual exploration, researching nondenominational Christianity, Islam and Buddhism along the way.

She wasn’t actively seeking Vodou. It found her.

“At the time I was leaning more towards just a spiritual side and I had gotten a (spiritual) reading,” Johnson said. “The gentleman who did mine invited me to his choir practice. It was a Vodou choir practice, and that’s when I started learning more about Vodou. So that is why I say it came to me. It wasn’t something that I was looking for.”

She discovered at that choir practice that the Haitian Creole songs the group sang that day were meant to honor the spirits, or “Loa,” who in the Voodoo religion serve as intermediaries between practitioners and the higher god, known as “Bondye.”

Last year, Johnson, a Philadelphia native, traveled to Haiti and participated in rituals and ceremonies alongside Vodou (pronounced “Voodoo”) priests and priestesses. She saw practitioners invoke the spirits and become “mounted” or possessed by them. When mounted, the practitioner embodies the characteristics of the Loa. The the practitioner speaks on their behalf of the spirit to convey messages from the Loa to the human world according to Johnson.

“It seems dark because people don’t understand it. But at some point, all religions were dark until someone said that they weren’t,” Johnson said.

She underwent her own ceremony, during which her head was washed to prepare her to be receptive to the spirits. While there, she witnessed the ritual sacrifice of various animals, including chickens, goats and pigs. All were then cooked and shared in a communal feast.

Johnson is currently planning to travel to Florida to complete her initiation into the religion. Much like the initiation process for other religions, including Christianity, the process can take anywhere from a few months to several years.

Vodou isn’t sinister

Not all Vodou practice is the same, Johnson said. Like many religions, there are variations and subsects, such as Vodún, which originated in Dahomey, the same West African kingdom depicted in the 2022 film “The Woman King,” staring Viola Davis. Modern day Dahomey is Nigeria, Benin and Togo.

After the transatlantic slave trade, the religion spread to the Caribbean, evolving into Haitian Vodou before eventually making its way to the United States, where it transformed into Louisiana or New Orleans Vodou.

While believers like Johnson and Kathy Hollidy acknowledge that curses can be performed, the primary purpose of Vodou and Hoodoo, they say, has always been about protection for a community facing overwhelming adversity.

Hollidy has been studying and practicing Hoodoo for several years. Hoodoo is a practice that emerged from Vodou but blends several West African religious elements such as herbology and folk magic. Hollidy discovered that many of the superstitions she grew up with are rooted in Hoodoo tradition.

“Things like stepping on a crack, sweeping over someone’s feet, throwing salt over your shoulder,” Hollidy said. “Or I know some people who blow cinnamon through their doors during a certain time of the month. We never really think that these were safeguards against bad omens.”

Vodou and Hoodoo served as tools for slaves to subtly resist their oppressors and maintain a sense of control, Hollidy said.

“It was a way to commune with your ancestors, ask for guidance, and honor them.”

On Oct. 5, a dozen people gathered in the back room of KC Conjure to discuss divination. The group of mostly women representing a mix of ages and races engaged in conversations focused on the deceased and communicating with spirits. The discussion explored spiritual communication.

The program, titled “Diving Diviners,” was created by KC Conjure owner Julie Valdivia and takes place every other month. It aims to unite different segments of the Kansas City spiritual community. The shop at 1620 Locust St. in Kansas City’s Crossroads neighborhood

sells herbs, roots, charms, tapestries, candles, incense and other material used in spiritual practices like Vodou and witchcraft.

As a white woman raised Catholic who has also been inducted as a Vodou priestess, Valdivia is familiar with feeling like an outsider.

“Sometimes, I do feel out of place as a white woman practicing an African diaspora religion,” Valdivia said. “I’ve encountered Black Americans who tell me I shouldn’t practice this religion and that I’m stealing it. However, many Haitians who visit my shop, which is quite a few, have told me that the spirit does not see color and they’re excited to see Vodou being shared.”

Valdivia discovered Vodou after a series of dreams prompted her to travel to New Orleans, where she fell in love with the religion and began studying to become a priestess. She notes that many people are surprised to learn that followers of Vodou are deeply religious and often practice their chosen faith alongside it.

“They’re often surprised to see the connections with other religions; you don’t have to abandon your faith. In our Vodou house, we have a Jewish person, a Hindu, atheists, and Christians. In Haiti, many people practice both Catholicism and Vodou,” she said.

The business owner hopes more people will visit the shop, even if just to ask questions and satisfy their curiosity.

“I encourage people to set aside their preconceived notions of Vodou,” Valdivia said. “For years, white people have feared and demonized Black culture, leading to a misunderstanding of Vodou. Hollywood has contributed to this stigma, but at its core, Vodou is about healing and community.”

Valdivia said she believes that once people recognize the positive aspects of Vodou practices and understand that they are not meant to cause harm, they will be less likely to judge.

Vodou is a religion not a practice

Many decades ago, enslaved Africans were compelled to abandon their native beliefs in favor of those imposed by their European captors. Many slave owners prohibited African religious practices, labeling them as “devil worship.” To this day, many Black Christians view these African religions as dark or sinister, Johnson said.

Johnson remembers the response when she told friends about her new beliefs.

“They said it was against God. It was kind of disheartening to hear friends say that. I’ve had people make jokes like ’Don’t put a hex on me,’ and I experienced it on a regular basis, so I’ve actually made it to a point where I don’t speak about it anymore.”

Johnson thinks that a lot of Vodou practitioners, like her, conceal their beliefs for fear of being judged harshly or misjudged.

Toni Runnels, (who goes by Awo Ifafunke’ Osunye) elder in the Kansas City Ifa community, believes that attitudes toward African-based religions have gradually been changing.

Ifa, also West African, uses divination and symbols to interpret the connections between the physical and spiritual realms. This practice is also embraced by followers of Vodou. Unlike Vodou, Ifa is a spiritual practice rather than a religion.

As an ordained Ifa priestess and holistic therapist for 24 years, Runnels has seen a growing openness to African spiritualism.

“I have been able to meet new acquaintances and participate in group rituals like I haven’t really been able to in the past,” Runnels said.

While the religious faiths, Vodou, Hoodoo, and Ifa, are practiced differently, all have themes of protection, family and ancestor worship at the root.

Runnels, a Kansas City native, began her journey into Ifa after an unexpected encounter with a woman on the street, who turned out to be an Ifa priestess. What started as a conversation about hair ultimately transformed Runnels’ spiritual beliefs.

“When I started to learn about Ifa it touched my heart and soul,” said Runnels. “It answered a lot of spiritual questions that I was searching for and unable to find in all the other religious teachings that I had studied.”

At 79, Runnels has noticed that many in the new generation are eager to embrace and explore these practices, too. The internet makes it easier for more to learn about these and other less widespread religious practices.

Runnels recently conducted an Ifa cleansing and purification ritual with four women, all dressed in mostly white. Together, they walked to a nearby creek. Once they reached the water’s edge, they took off their shoes and put their bare feet on the soil, so as to connect with the earth.

They laid a straw rug on a rock near the water. On top of the rug they placed small containers filled with either spices, peppers, nuts or oil — each chosen for their specific and unique properties.

Fertility ritual on the water

First, the women poured water in a circle around their sitting area. Then they lit candles and burned incense.

Runnels led a prayer while holding a horse’s tail, which she waved through the air as if swatting away invisible flies, a gesture meant to ward off evil spirits.

The women began to consume the contents of the small containers. They ingested alligator pepper to energize their speech, bitter kola nut to symbolize life’s challenges, honey to embody sweetness, red pepper to invoke the forces of nature, coconut to represent the mysteries of the unknown, and palm oil for the nurturing qualities of life.

Each woman then cradled the bulb of a sunflower between two open, cupped hands and prayed. Afterward, they drizzled honey into the center of the flower before tossing it into the water. This ceremony honors the spirit of fresh water, purity and fertility.

“I don’t get to perform group ceremonies that much,” said Runnels. “There was very high spiritual energy there and these ladies are awesome.”

While Johnson is pleased to see renewed interest in West African religions, she remains cautious about individuals who may not be engaging for the right reasons. Although Hoodoo can be learned independently, Vodou requires initiation. Johnson points out that there are scammers pretending to be ordained Vodou priests despite having never been initiated through a legitimate Vodou house.

The soon-to-be Vodou initiate has had her own encounters with individuals claiming to be Vodou experts who charge for lessons and mentorship. She advises anyone interested in learning more about Vodou or other faiths requiring formal instruction to conduct thorough research.

“Hopefully it spreads a little bit more,” Johnson said. “I’m hoping that more African traditions can spread regardless of which religion or spiritual beliefs to just to reconnect with their roots of our ancestors because this is our heritage and history and we have a right to it.”