Before I muddle too irrevocably into this, I want to make sure we’re all clear on the difference between opinion and belief.
An opinion is a transient judgement or preference regarding an everyday or otherwise low-stakes matter. Opinions are usually not based on intimate knowledge and can be amended fairly easily once new information is introduced.
A belief, on the other hand, is a deeply-rooted conviction accepted as truth. Like opinions, beliefs are subjective, but they are less likely to change without effort, even in the face of contrary evidence.
I also want everyone to understand that although the Pagan community is a subculture, it is still largely comprised of members of dominant groups. Members of marginalized groups within the Pagan community are still marginalized — I mean, yes, We All Come from the Goddess or whatever, but factors like heritage, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability aren’t zeroed out via the magic of polytheism. Bigotry in any form is therefore just as harmful within the Pagan community as it is within the greater dominant culture.
And please note that bigotry is a belief. So when we’re discussing a bigot, and we say, “Oh, they may have made some unfortunate comments in the past, but that was just their opinion…” we’re actively minimizing the severity of those statements, and we’re dismissing the safety and agency of those who are marginalized in favor of upholding the Protestant status quo.
For instance…
Earlier this year, an annual Pagan conference announced their 2027 lineup of speakers. In response, a couple of LGBTQIA+ Pagans expressed concerns that one of the speakers has a history of transphobia. Shortly thereafter, the conference added a paragraph to their About page, stating that they provide: “continuing development opportunities to our overarching magical and Pagan community that are comprised of diverse traditions and individuals who hold many different intellectual and theological viewpoints.” It was also specified that “Inclusion of any speaker or session should not be construed as endorsement of their intellectual or theological viewpoint.”
By mid May, the speaker had been removed from the lineup, with no public explanation provided (at least as far as I’m aware). Maybe the conference decided that allegations of transphobia were more than just a “different intellectual viewpoint,” or maybe the speaker had a scheduling conflict. Either way, neither party was talking. People noticed the speaker’s absence from the promotional materials, though, at which point the heteros got upsetero.
Friends and supporters took to social media to decry the perceived de-platforming and condemn, as one individual so eloquently put it, “folks with political agendas, attention seekers, or with various mental pathologies” seeking to “punish” the speaker for “having [their] own opinions.” Another concurred that difference of perspective was the real issue, averring, “There has to be universal agreement to come in peace and leave your weapons at the door. If you really can’t stand to be in the same room with someone else, it is your responsibility to not be there. It is not your prerogative to remove them!”
So… agreement to tolerate intolerance, then. Agreement to play nice with people who believe you’re not worthy of human decency, because we don’t want to make anyone feel unwelcome.
Oh, wait, now you feel unwelcome. Huh. Well, that’s your problem. Suck it up, infidel.
Although you know what really slays me about the whole thing? All the online, cishet handwringing was incited by a trans woman saying that she, personally, would not be attending the conference. That’s it. She didn’t call for a boycott or threaten to go on a hunger strike or anything — she just wrote a blog post explaining why she wouldn’t be there. At the time of this writing, it has not been revealed whether the conference axed the speaker, or if the speaker axed themself, or if a behind-the-scenes, middle-ground decision was reached (unless one of my readers has their hands on updated details, in which case please correct me), but it doesn’t matter: The speaker is a Good Person who Helps Others and is now being Unfairly Targeted by the Thought Police for [another direct quote here] “not thinking the right things.”
And since we’re on the subject of random capitalizations, I’d like to share a deeply-rooted conviction of my own: We have got to stop pretending that bigotry can be excused through Charitable Works. I see this all the damn time on social media, and it never fails to make my eyes bleed:
“Okay, sure, she has some strong feelings about transgender ideology, but she’s such an amazing priestess!”
“I mean, yes, he did technically say that black people can’t be Heathen, but he’s done so much for the community!”
In order to get a more accurate reflection of character, those qualifiers need to switch places:
“Sure, she’s an amazing priestess, but she’s a transphobe.”
“Yes, he’s done a lot for the community, but he’s racist.”
The most common counterargument against this rephrasing is, of course, “We can’t diminish someone’s accomplishments just because of their opinions.” But yeah, we totally can. Again, bigotry is a belief. If it were an opinion, a whole lot of problematic behaviors could be circumvented by taking Z. Budapest to a matinee of Cats: The Jellicle Ball.
Do I know anyone who can get tickets to Cats:The Jellicle Ball? I should make some phone calls.
Anyway, it’s here that I’m going to share another belief of mine, which is this: A vast number of the self-identified Pagans floating about the Internet are sheltered idealists who have never been the victims of true discrimination, and probably never will be. They romanticize oppression, cranking the volume and thundering about St. Patrick chasing their spiritual ancestors out of Ireland or Christians stealing Easter from the witches who wouldn’t burn, but when faced with the real-world persecution of ethnic and sexual minorities, their silence is deafening.
My (unnecessarily forgiving) opinion is that because they’ve never had actual prejudice directed at them, they are not fully able to identify it. And that’s just an aspect of privilege — a state of not having had to endure a given experience. Privilege is not a bad thing in and of itself, but when we lean into it enough to comfortably ignore what anyone with less privilege is forced to deal with, that’s pretty awful of us. And it’s especially heinous when the ones feigning obliviousness are the “elders” of the community, who may have built successful platforms on religious freedom, but who also happily pulled up the ladder before anyone deemed “lesser than” could join them.
And that, for me, is the crux of the whole situation: Trans and non-binary Pagans are like, “We deserve basic human rights,” and the transphobes are like, “No, you don’t,” and the people in positions of authority are like, “How about we all just agree to disagree?”
At the end of 2025, I left a Pagan group with which I’d been affiliated for the better part of fifteen years, because the current leadership is aggressively transphobic. Like, they are furious that trans people exist, and they threatened me with expulsion for not toeing the line. So I took a break and mapped a good exit strategy, and once that was in place, I officially resigned.
Thing is, I did everything as per the directive of the old, straight, white man quoted earlier: I could no longer stand to be in the same room, so I took responsibility and removed myself. I didn’t publicly call them out, or run to WitchTok, or even unfriend them on Facebook. I just emailed a brief but polite Fare Thee Well and peaced out.
And yet, when a mutual acquaintance reached out to one of the leaders over something unrelated, and my name happened to come up, I was described as (you guessed it) an attention seeker with a political agenda and various mental pathologies.
I am assuredly none of the above, but hey, whatever they need to think of me is none of my business. Besides, it’s a free country, right?
Everyone is entitled to their opinion.
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