Did you know that witches have a wide range of career options? Contrary to popular belief, being a witch is not limited to casting spells and brewing potions. In fact, modern witches have found their way into various fields and professions, showcasing their unique skills and abilities. One of the most common career paths for witches is in the spiritual and healing arts. As natural intuitives, witches often excel in roles such as tarot readers, psychic advisors, energy healers, or spiritual teachers. Their connection to the spiritual realm allows them to offer guidance and support to others seeking clarity and insight. Witches also frequently find themselves drawn to roles that involve nature and the environment.

Career as a Wiccan

Close our eyes and think about the word witch . What images play up in your mind? Surely you enter a world of fiction and see an old woman in a long black robe, sitting in a dark room with a black cat meowing eerily, gazing at a crystal ball by the side; someone who can snap and vanish into thin air. Now, open your eyes and zoom into reality!

Do you know that witches still exist around us? An unnerving thought this? If yes, then let’s introduce you to the 21st century modern-day ‘witches’ who are as skin and blood as anyone of us. They belong to the same social system that we do and lead perfectly normal lives.

That explained, let’s unravel the mystery now. Witchcraft (or wizardry) can be defined as spiritual or religious practices followed by a wise man or woman anywhere in the world. Do you know that the word 'Witch' (feminine) or 'Wiz' (masculine) literally means Wise! Wicca, an often used term in this context, is not just another name for general witchcraft. Wicca is a specific spiritual system of nature worship in which magic spells are used just like prayers.

The Global Wicca Tradition is India's first and only Wiccan tradition that helps people adopt Wicca as a faith, serves public through Wiccan healing services and trains people in the three degrees of Wicca if they desire to be Wiccan official clergy (priests and priestesses of a Wiccan temple).

Swati Prakash , a Wiccan and head of Global Wicca says, “At some point you may have prayed to a higher force, made a wish or sent a blessing to someone. Witchcraft is not very different except that it includes more study and focus on specific ways of making clearer intentions and to manifest things more strongly.” Prakash talks about inner wisdom and the proper training that is required to develop and control spiritual powers, so that they lead to the betterment of earth. “Clearly, everyone has a witch or wizard within them. Witches and wizards are highly ethical and conscientious and believe in using it for the betterment of self and others,” she explains.

Clearing the air about the stereotypical image associated with witches, Prakash says, “In the middle and dark ages, anyone who followed any ancient belief was falsely accused of 'consorting with the devil' and was tortured into accepting the new faith. Ironically, you will note that male wizards are always depicted as wise old men in fiction and art throughout history while women witches were shown as cunning and ugly. Clearly, there has been a gender bias in favour of male spiritualists and gurus.”

Prakash’s workstation is not a swanky cubicle. As a Wiccan, your workstation would be a temple with an altar with various tools of magic such as wands, cauldron, crystals, candles and yantras placed on it. A typical workday would consist of wish fulfillment prayers for patrons, advice, astrological consultations, intuitive card readings, healing sessions and training.

People come to wiccans for help with emotional issues, receive help in abundance and prosperity-related issues, get clarity regarding their career path, help understand their life purpose and spiritual path and a host of other issues. “This is a very respected profession and people bless you since you help them,” adds Prakash.

Even as the profession can be monetarily benefitting, with an apprentice earning as much as Rs 10,000 a month and for an entrepreneur, remunerations unlimitedly depend on one’s vision and skills. Prakash reiterates that the line of work gratifying and is beyond material gains. “The benefits of being in this profession far exceed material profits. You get tremendous peace, joy and positive energy,” she concludes.

AT A GLANCE

Why I quit academia to become a witch

In honor of Scorpio season I’d like to share a piece I wrote in February 2019, at the moment when I definitively chose to cease my pursuit of a tenure-track (TT) academic job. (It should be noted that despite my best intentions to quit academia, I remain employed by a university — the difference is that my current job is non-tenure track, meaning it is focused entirely on teaching, not research, and therefore deemed second-class within the university.)

Why am I choosing to share this right now? For one thing, we all need a break from the news. For another: as we teeter on the brink of immanent social and environmental collapse, I am reminded of the extraordinary ways that living beings adapt and evolve. I spent years in a state of panic because I felt like my hard-earned career was on the brink of collapse. And then my career did collapse. And it turned out to be one of the most magical things that ever happened to me.

I offer this story as one small testament to what becomes possible if we let go of our attachment to what should be and focus on what is.

Welcome to the season of the witch.

Image: Light Seer’s Tarot by Chris-Anne

So, first off, why quit academia? Just in case you missed the literal hundreds of articles on this topic the cliff’s notes version is: Academia is a soul-sucking monster that chews up and spits out thousands of graduate students without offering them adequate job opportunities, salaries, or labor conditions. The situation is so dire that it has spawned an entire literary genre known as “quit lit” about people’s terrible experiences. As a friend of mine recently put it, "This gig makes me miss working at Olive Garden." All of this has been going on since the rise of neoliberalism in the 1970s , and it’s gotten worse in recent years, especially in the humanities.

Despite the fact that we know the vast majority of PhDs will never attain a tenure-track position, people keep applying and universities keep accepting them . This makes no sense, you say? Well, here’s a true story. When I applied to graduate school back in the fall of 2008, the economy was collapsing and, despite warnings from former professors, retreating to the safety of the ivory tower for 5-7 years to pursue a PhD seemed like a reasonable idea at the time. Not that I was in the dark about how dire my career prospects were. Throughout my entire graduate career, I was subjected to the gruesome spectacle of job market failure, time and time again, of nearly every candidate who graduated from my department (which was considered to be one of the top five nationally in our field). A few people I knew did eventually manage to land a coveted TT position (nearly always after multiple years of attempts, while bouncing from contingent position to contingent position with zero job security and extreme financial hardship).

Instead of cutting my losses then and there, however, witnessing this carnage just strengthened my resolve that I would be THE ONE to get a job. Armed with the proverbial knapsack of privilege, a goodly amount of Taurean stubbornness, and an acute sense of desperation (because I had no alternative career aspirations and no idea what else I could possibly be qualified to do), I gritted my teeth and set out to land my nearly-impossible dream job.

Fast forward to me, some ten years later, about to trade in my diploma for some crystals.

What happened, you might ask? Well, there’s a version of this story that ends with: "I failed." That was certainly the version I told myself my first year on the job market, when I only recieved one Skype interview and no job offers. It was the version I told myself again my second year on the market when, despite being a finalist for three tenure-track jobs at elite schools, I did not get an offer from any of them. It was the version I told myself yet again the following year when, despite being a seemingly stronger candidate (I now had a degree in hand, a peer reviewed publication, and stellar teaching evals from an elite liberal arts college) I found myself weeks away from unemployment, saved at the 11th hour when my partner got a job and negotiated a position for me that, despite being titled “postdoctoral fellowship,” was essentially just a shitty part-time teaching job. And it was the version I told myself the year after that, when I feverishly decided I had to change my entire research agenda to be a more desirable candidate and — after rewriting all my application materials — didn’t even get a single interview.

As a famous academic researcher once said, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results." (Side note: Albert Einstein couldn’t get anyone to hire him for an academic job for 7 years.)

When my fifth year on the job market rolled around, I pledged to myself that it would be my last year. My main reasoning was because I didn’t think my mental health could withstand yet another job search. However, by the time application season rolled around my thinking had evolved (thanks in large part to finding myself a life coach!). Rather than desperately applying to every possible job, I made the decision to apply only to a handful of highly selective jobs in geographic locations where I actually wanted to live. As a result, I was unsurprised when I did not receive a single interview, much less any job offers.

And now, ten and a half years after I initially set out to get a PhD and become a professor, I have officially given up on the idea of getting a tenure track job.

For some of you reading this (especially if you are currently a graduate student and/or on the academic job market), you will certainly believe that my story is a "failure." That I didn’t have what it takes, or that I "gave up" too soon, or that I made the fatal mistake of only applying to jobs in locations I am willing to live in. (Really? What other industry expects people to happily pick up and move to places like Manhattan, Kansas or Richmond, Indiana for the rest of their lives?) I get it. I used to believe all of these things, too. I used to judge people like me for quitting, or secretly suspect that they just weren’t actually that smart, or they couldn’t hack it.

Then again, I also used to find it reasonable that I would have to take a series of undesirable jobs in undesirable locations for an indeterminate number of years before finally (hopefully) landing my dream job at one of the three liberal arts colleges that exist near major cities. So I’m not sure if my judgment can entirely be trusted.

And yes, for my old self, this outcome would be considered an enormous failure, and a crushing disappointment. But luckily, I am not that person anymore. I am no longer the person who measures her worth solely on the number of interviews I get for positions that routinely recieve anywhere from 150-600 applicants. I am no longer the person who believes that attaining a tenure-track academic job is the only life path worth pursuing. I am no longer the person who is willing to trade my own mental health and well-being for a fancy title at a prestigious institution.

And let’s be honest, that’s really what it comes down to. I recently made a list of all the things that I love about academia. Because of course, there are many things I love about it. (Otherwise, let’s hope I wouldn’t have stuck with it for ten years.) That list included: the friends I have made (top of the list for sure); the freedom to read and write about what I’m interested in; a flexible schedule; teaching what I’m passionate about. As it turns out, though, none of those things are intrinsic to academia and academia alone. I am quite optimistic that I can continue to read, write, and teach. I believe that it will be possible for me to arrange to have a flexible schedule in whatever I end up doing next. And, most importantly, I know that I will be able to maintain the connections with the people I really care about (many of whom actually ended up leaving academia themselves). In fact, the only thing that I won’t be able to hold onto in some form is the prestigious affiliation. Now, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care at all about that. And yes, it’s frustrating to know that I am capable of performing just as well as many of the people who do hold those titles. (Anyone who has ever been on an academic search committee will tell you that getting a job offer has very little to do with actual qualifications. According to UC Berkeley’s Career Center: “Once you have seen in it from the inside, any illusions that the academic job search is a wholly rational process designed to yield the best candidate for the position are burst asunder.”) But at the end of the day, being able to post that Instagram photo of the sign on my office door (yes, this is a real thing that academics do, because their lives are sad) is not worth the ongoing stress and anxiety of continuing to let myself be fucked by the system. Because let’s also be clear: that is exactly what is happening.

I am choosing to let myself be fucked. (And not in a fun way.) Unlike the majority of people who work in terrible labor conditions with little control over their own lives, I actually have the privilege to opt out.

And it’s pretty fucked up that so many smart, well-educated, privileged people are actively choosing to participate in their own oppression and exploitation. Of course, it should be noted that not all PhDs come from privilege. But ironically, it is often those of us with privilege — who grew up being told we would get to "be whatever we want" in the world — who insist on pursuing an academic career over other career options that perhaps have less cache, are less "respectable," or less interesting. And this is one of the secrets of higher education: in order to keep reeling us in, it keeps telling us the lie that it is the only worthwhile show in town; that it is somehow less corrupt than jobs in the private sector (as if universities weren’t intimately linked to corporate interests ); and that it is somehow more "rigorous" than fields like journalism and the public humanities (theory: "rigor" is a word people use when they are worried they are becoming irrelevant ). I bought into that story for a long time. Funny how that happens with gaslighting.

So. Let’s say by now I’ve made a reasonably compelling case that it was a good idea for me to leave my toxic relationship with academia. Still, isn’t quitting an actual profession to become a witch kind of a risky move? On the face of it, yes. Witchcraft is not exactly a stable (or lucrative) occupation. But at this point, the risk of staying actually feels worse. Do I know what’s coming? No. But I do know what my life looks like if I stay. It looks like another indeterminate number of years moving around from state to state and school to school. It looks like the exhaustion of constantly applying for and getting rejected from jobs (let’s not forget that even in the best case scenario, you still get rejected from 99% percent of the jobs you apply to). Of never being able to plan longer than six months ahead. Of still being broke AF in your thirties. Oh, and then there’s being constantly reminded of my second-class citizenship at my workplace because I’m so-called "contingent" faculty.

1. subject to chance.

2. occurring or existing only if (certain circumstances) are the case; dependent on.

That pretty much sums it up. My life is basically just waiting around for someone else to roll the dice. And guess what? I’m over it.

Look, if my life is going to depend entirely on chance, and if my livelihood is going to be determined by forces entirely beyond my control, then fuck it, imma be a WITCH, bitches.

Think about it. I still get flexible hours. I get to be my own boss (that’s "boss witch" to you). I get to spend my time studying feminism and witchcraft, which are my favorite topics to think about. (Before I decided to GTFO, I was considering starting to work on an academic research project ABOUT feminist witches. How much more awesome would it be to actually just BECOME ONE?)

II. Be the witch you wish to see in the world

When I was a kid, I never wanted to grow up and become a doctor, or a fire fighter, or any of the (extremely limited, now that I think about it) options we were presented with. Instead, I spent most of my time fantasizing about what life would be like if I suddenly discovered I had magical powers and found an entrance to a secret parallel universe full of witches and dragons. (No, Harry Potter did not yet exist, but my favorite book involved a princess who ran away from her castle to hang out with a female dragon king, a lesbian witch, and her 9 cats. ) Then, like most adolescent girls, I was suddenly hit simultaneously by 1. a whole mess of confusing emotions; and 2. the onslaught of intense messages about how ugly and unlovable I would be if I didn’t spend the next three hours mastering THIS PARTICULAR MAKEUP TRICK. (It’s a killer combination. Nice work, patriarchy.) Before long, I had traded in my dragons for a subscription to Seventeen magazine, which helped me learn how to be the perfect girl: extremely insecure, judgmental, and self-loathing. It would take years of women’s studies classes to even begin to undo that damage, and let’s just say the dragons never made a come-back.

Until now. (Thank you, Danaerys Targaryan.) No one seems quite sure where the feminist witch renaissance came from, but there is no doubt that it’s here. It’s so here that the witches I follow on Instagram are increasingly able to quit their day jobs to… you guessed it, BE A FULL TIME WITCH. And while I’m not sure I want to go down that particular path, the fact remains: witches exist. They are among us.

And finally, it occurred to me: why on earth couldn’t I be one?

The thing about being a witch is that "full time" and "part time" actually don’t apply, because it’s not a job. It’s an identity and a practice.

And in that sense, being a witch isn’t so different from being a feminist.

They are both about your beliefs and about how you live your life. Both are actually rather disreputable occupations, reviled and feared by mainstream society. And both are interested in channeling your power to attack the powers at be. It is no surprise that feminism and witchcraft have a longstanding relationship , one that is being actively rekindled today.

Jobs in the wizarding world

At least some content in this article is derived from information featured in: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery & Harry Potter: Puzzles & Spells & Harry Potter: Magic Awakened & Hogwarts Legacy.
As such, spoilers will be present within the article.

The following are all the known jobs in the wizarding world.

Activist - members of the wizarding world could be activists, usually in addition to a second job. Notable activists include Hermione Granger and Carlotta Pinkstone. [1]Urg the Unclean was a notable goblin activist for his involvement in the 18th centuryGoblin Rebellions. [2]
Actor/actress - acting in plays was very popular in the wizarding world, and further education for a career in performance was given at the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts. [3]
Alchemist - working in the study of alchemy involved studying the four basic elements and transmutation. Nicolas Flamel, inventor of the Philosopher's Stone was a notable alchemist. [4]Albus Dumbledore[5] and Draco Malfoy[6] also studied alchemy.
Apparition Examiner
Archivist - archiving and maintaining records, e.g. Melusine worked in the French Ministry of Magic Records Room. [7]
Arithmancer - those who specialised in arithmancy studied the art of predictions using numbers. Notable arithmancers include Bridget Wenlock, who discovered the magical properties of the number 7. [8]
Artist - an artist in the wizarding world could paint animatedportraits. [9]Magenta Comstock (an experimentalist) [1] and Roderick Plumpton were notable artists. [10]
Astronomer - study of Astronomy[11][12]
Aurologist - study of Auras. [13]
Auror - an elite law enforcement official who combated Dark wizards. [14]Auror training was known to be difficult and rigorous. [15][16]
Auror Commissioner
Author - writers of both instructional and entertaining texts. Examples include Miranda Goshawk[17][18] and Gilderoy Lockhart. [19][20] Some authors like Percival Pratt, were poets. [12]

Witches also frequently find themselves drawn to roles that involve nature and the environment. With a deep respect for the Earth and its elements, many witches become environmental activists, conservationists, or eco-friendly entrepreneurs. They use their knowledge of herbs, plants, and natural remedies to promote sustainable living and advocate for the protection of our planet.

Reviews for "Witchy Tech: Careers in Magical App and Software Development"

1. Sarah - 2 stars - I was really disappointed with "Careers for witches". The book promised to provide a comprehensive guide for witches looking for suitable careers, but it fell short of my expectations. The author mainly focused on fictional careers and failed to provide real-world examples or practical advice. I was hoping to find insights and guidance on how to navigate the job market as a witch, but instead, I got a collection of whimsical recommendations that were not helpful in any way.

2. Jason - 1 star - "Careers for witches" was a complete waste of my time. The book lacked substance and seemed more like a silly attempt at humor rather than a serious guide. The author's attempt to differentiate between various categories of witches and their potential careers felt forced and contrived. I was hoping for a practical and informative book, but this was just a disappointment. I would not recommend it to anyone seriously looking for advice on career choices as a witch.

3. Emma - 2 stars - As a practicing witch, I was excited to read "Careers for witches". However, I found the book to be lacking in depth and practicality. The author provided a shallow overview of various careers that witches could consider, but there was no in-depth analysis or real-world examples. Additionally, the book seemed more focused on stereotypes and fictional scenarios rather than offering genuine guidance. It missed the mark and left me feeling unsatisfied with the content.

The Science of Spellcasting: Careers for Witches in Research and Development

Channeling the Divine: Careers in Mediumship and Spirit Communication

Witchy Work-Life Balance: Careers for Witches in the Wellness Industry