Lessons in Modern Witchcraft, Minus the Broomsticks

Earl Wilson/The New York Times Classes on witchcraft are held at the Wiccan Family Temple in Lower Manhattan.

Earl Wilson/The New York Times An athame, which is used to direct energy.

Shantel Collins and Yahaira Monzon were chatting before the start of class when their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a bell.

“Ladies, ladies,” said Starr Ravenhawk, one of their instructors, “the deities demand your respect.”

Ms. Collins and Ms. Monzon, both dressed in black hooded robes with silver five-pointed stars dangling from their necks, grew quiet and settled into their seats.

“Let’s begin,” said Arlene Fried, another instructor, who sat behind a folding table that had been transformed into an altar, complete with candles, a chalice, a black-handled knife and a tiny caldron.

“Which of you can tell me what that star around your neck is called?” Ms. Fried said.

“A pentacle,” Ms. Collins replied.

“And what is it for?” Ms. Fried asked.

“It gives us protection against anything negative or evil; it’s kind of like a cross for Christians,” Ms. Monzon said, staring into her notebook as she spoke. “The top of the star represents the spirit. Each of the other points represent an element: earth, air, fire and water.”

Ms. Collins, 24, and Ms. Monzon, 34, are students at the Wiccan Family Temple Academy of Pagan Studies in Manhattan, where they are studying to become witches.

“I know that sounds shocking to most people because witchcraft is usually thought of as evil,” said Ms. Ravenhawk, a high priestess of the Wiccan Family Temple. “But if people really knew what we are about, they would know that studying to become a good witch is no different than studying to become a good Catholic.”

Fifteen men and women are currently studying witchcraft in the mystical shadow of Ms. Ravenhawk, who helped found the school in 2007. They are enrolled in a three-year program that includes courses like “Introduction to Wicca,” a modern pagan, witchcraft religion that worships the divinity in nature. Other courses include “History of Witchcraft,” “Introduction to Magic,” “Spells and How They Work” and “Esbats: Celebrating the Phases of the Moon.”

After a year of introductory courses, second-year students like Ms. Collins and Ms. Monzon strive to become full-fledged witches. Third-year students aspire to become high priests or high priestesses. Each school year is made up of 24 two-hour classes, with students paying $25 per class. That amounts to 144 hours of total class work and $1,800 in tuition for any student who pursues the entire three-year curriculum, which is not accredited outside the realm of Ms. Ravenhawk’s teachings and beliefs.

But none of that matters to Ms. Collins.

“People go to school to study the things that interest them most; some people go to law school, others to medical school,” she said. “I want to be a religious leader in my community, so the path I chose is to become a high priestess. I am learning how to counsel people in my community. No one is born a pastor or a reverend or a rabbi â€" you have to work at it, and that’s what I’m doing. So for me, these classes are worth every minute and every penny.”

Though Ms. Ravenhawk said her students “are people with normal lives and normal jobs,” she added that “not all of them are willing to identify themselves and talk about it for fear of what other people might think, especially in the workplace. They are not yet ready to come out of the broom closet.”

Ms. Collins, a Bronx resident and former youth counselor in Manhattan, said she first became interested in the Wiccan faith when she was 13 and learned about it from a family friend.

“I was raised Baptist, but what drew me to this religion was its respect for the earth and the way it puts me in touch with nature,” she said. “I feel a lot more liberated in this religion; it is more respectful to me as a person and as a woman. It’s basically, ‘Live as you choose as long as you don’t harm anyone.’”

Still, Ms. Collins admitted that, like many of her classmates, she has kept her newfound religion mostly a secret.

“My mother knows that I am a Wiccan witch, but most of my family does not,” she said. “People like my grandmother who are not as open-minded and do not believe in diversity, they just wouldn’t understand, but this is not an evil religion. We do not worship the devil â€" we do not even believe in the devil. This is about connecting with the natural forces to advance yourself spiritually.”

Ms. Monzon was attempting to do just that when she approached the altar and picked up the knife, which is called an athame and is used to direct energy. “Great mother and great father,” she said, “I will only use this ceremonial knife in your presence.”

Ms. Monzon then cut open an imaginary doorway and stepped through it, an act of leaving behind her world for a more spiritual realm. Ms. Collins and the two instructors did the same, and soon all four had formed a circle and were praying to both a male and a female god.

“Like people who are a part of any other religion, all we are trying to do is become better people,” Ms. Ravenhawk said. “And like most other religions, we accept the fact that there is a higher being.”

While Ms. Ravenhawk also insisted that Wiccan witches like herself do not believe in Satan, she did note that the pentacle she wears around her neck “is said to repel vampires.”

“Not those vampires who will drain your blood,” she said, “but those who will drain your energy.”