Cultural Appropriation, Assimilation, and the $5,000 Hoodoo Hustle
I had a great conversation this past weekend where practitioners of color and culture were discussing this very thing.
Let’s quit pretending this is confusing.
It isn’t.
What it is, is inconvenient—especially for people who’ve built a brand, a following, and a tidy little income stream off something they barely understand but know how to market.
So here’s the line, carved clean.
Appropriation vs Assimilation (No Hand-Holding Edition)
Appropriation is taking.
Assimilation is adapting a practice because you were taught it, because it was what was there where you were taught. It is done with respect and recognition. I point specifically to African slaves who hid their religions in the saints and the songs of what appears to be a Christian religion. They did it to survive. Then there is Appalachian magic and it's cross over into multiple disciplines. There was always trade between nations just as there was always a sharing of knowledge. Now when it comes to cultural appropriation versus cultural assimilation...
Appropriation is a choice.
Assimilation is what happens when life gives you fewer options, or when the trading of ideas and new ways of thought are respectfully traded amongst practitioners.
Appropriation strips things down, repackages them, and sells them back as something “new,” “accessible,” or—my personal favorite—“ancient secrets finally revealed.”
Assimilation buries things so you can survive in a world that punishes you for keeping them.
If you can’t tell the difference, you’re not confused—you’re avoiding the answer.
The $5,000 Hoodoo Course
Let’s talk about the elephant in the ritual room.
A white woman charging five grand to teach Hoodoo.
Not “inspired by.”
Not “influenced by.”
Teaching Hoodoo.
Let me make this real simple:
Hoodoo is not a Pinterest board.
It is not a vibes-based aesthetic.
It is not something you skim, stitch together, and then position yourself as the high priestess of because your branding is clean and your lighting is good.
Hoodoo comes out of Black American experience—specifically, experience forged under pressure most people today wouldn’t last a week in.
It was survival work.
Quiet work.
Passed hand to hand, mouth to ear, without the luxury of turning it into a polished course with tiered pricing and a payment plan.
So when someone outside that lived reality:
Packages it
Certifies themselves
And charges a price tag that would make a used car blush
That’s not appreciation.
That’s a hustle wearing ritual clothes hiding behind a Minnesota salad. It's like mayonnaise trying to be Sriracha and failing.
“But I Use Rootwork…”
Yes. So do a lot of people.
And here’s where folks start tripping over themselves trying to justify—or condemn—everything at once.
Using aspects of rootwork, conjure, or Hoodoo in your personal practice is not the same as standing on a platform claiming authority over it.
Let me say that again, slower:
Practicing is not the same as positioning yourself as a teacher of the tradition.
If you learned from someone, if you were taught, if you’re working respectfully and you know exactly where what you’re doing came from—you’re participating.
The second you decide you’re qualified to teach it at scale, to certify others, to become the face of it?
Now we’re having a different conversation.
Because now you’re not just practicing.
You’re claiming ownership.
Authority Is Where People Get It Twisted
Everyone wants access.
Very few people want accountability.
You can:
Learn
Study
Practice
Respect
But you don’t automatically get to:
Define
Represent
Sell at scale
There is a difference between being in the room and claiming you built the house.
And right now, a whole lot of people are selling floor plans for houses they never lived in.
White Sage, Because Of Course We’re Going There
Here’s the part that makes people foam at the mouth:
Burning plants for spiritual cleansing is not new, rare, or exclusive. Humans have been doing it since we figured out that fire does more than keep you warm.
The issue is not the smoke.
It’s the behavior wrapped around it.
People take issue with:
- Stripping wild white sage to feed a trend
- Selling it in bulk with zero connection to where it comes from
- Calling every puff of smoke “smudging” like it’s a generic term
Smudging is specific.
Smoke cleansing is general.
If you don’t know the difference, stop teaching it.
Now—if you:
- Grow your own
- Harvest responsibly
- Use it for cleansing
- Call it what it is
Congratulations. You are using a plant.
Not everything needs a moral panic attached to it.
The Real Framework (Since Everyone Loves to Pretend There Isn’t One)
Every single one of these arguments boils down to three things:
Power. Context. Profit.
Who had power?
Is the practice being used in context?
Who is making money—and how much—off something they didn’t originate?
That’s it.
That’s the formula.
You don’t need a 10-part thread, a certification, or a TikTok breakdown to understand it.
The Part That’s Going to Sting
You don’t get to:
- Take a tradition
- Strip it down to something marketable
- Build a brand on it
- Charge premium prices
- And then act like you’re being attacked for “sharing knowledge”
No.
You’re being called out for turning something rooted in lived experience into a commodity. We will call you out, loudly, and in public.
And people are tired of watching that happen while the original voices get ignored, sidelined, or treated like footnotes.
Final Word
Use what you use.
Practice what you practice.
But don’t confuse access with entitlement.
And don’t confuse curiosity with qualification.
Because those are the exact lies people tell themselves right before they hit “launch” on a five-thousand-dollar course they have no business teaching.
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