Salem Witchcraft Museum: History and Injustice

The Lingering Echoes of Salem

I’ve been to the Salem Witchcraft Museum. Walked through those dim-lit rooms. Stood in front of the names of the accused and felt my throat tighten.

I knew what I was walking into, but I wasn’t prepared for how deeply it would hit. I thought I’d feel curious. Maybe inspired. But what I felt most of all… was grief.

There’s this heaviness there. Not spooky. Not theatrical. Just quiet and undeniable. It’s the weight of injustice that never got a proper ending. The stories they tell inside that building—those aren’t legends. They’re warnings. And when you walk through as someone who works with magick, who lives openly as a witch, you feel all of it.

That visit changed something in me. The pain those people went through—the fear, the lies, the silence—it shows up in every part of my work now. Every time I teach, every time I create, I remember them. Because what happened in Salem wasn’t just a moment in history. It’s a shadow that still stretches into now.

The Salem Witch Trials: Hysteria and Injustice

The girls said they were cursed. Said they saw spirits. And people believed them.

That part has always haunted me. That so many could be so quick to point fingers. To listen to screams and forget the humanity of the ones being blamed.

In 1692, over 200 people were accused of salem witchcraft. Most of them women. Midwives. Healers. Outsiders. People who didn’t stay in their lane. People who were too bold, or too strange, or too good at what they did. Nineteen were hanged. One was pressed to death with stones. Not a single one of them was guilty of anything we’d call witchcraft today.

But it wasn’t really about magick. It was about fear. About power. About the punishment of anyone who refused to fit someone else’s idea of who they should be.

That’s the part that sits with me. Still. Because that kind of punishment—for being intuitive, for being powerful, for being different—it hasn’t gone away. It just looks different now.

And so when I talk about magick, I’m not just talking about spells and herbs and candles. I’m talking about survival. About reclaiming what they tried to destroy. About naming the injustice, and refusing to let it be forgotten.

From Persecution to Power: What the Museum Taught Me

One of the rooms had these life-sized figures—kind of eerie, but not in a Halloween way. More like… heavy. Still. It’s weird how something so staged can feel so real. I kept looking at the faces. Frozen mid-sentence, mid-accusation, mid-panic. It wasn’t spooky. It was heartbreaking.

What hit hardest, though, wasn’t the drama. It was how quiet the museum felt, even with all the voices around me. Like the energy in there wasn’t about fear anymore. It was about truth. The kind that gets ignored or rewritten. The kind that stays in the walls.

And maybe that’s the real lesson. They were not the witches the town declared. Neighbors punished them for being different, intuitive, spiritual, outspoken, or refusing to conform.

I walked out of that building different than I walked in. More anchored. More protective of the work I do. It’s not performative. To me, it’s ancestral. It’s resistance.

🕯️ Starting your journey or curious where to begin? I recommend The Complete Grimoire. I really love it and return to it often. It’s simple, beautiful, and powerful. Like the best kind of magick.

Modern Witchcraft in Salem and Beyond

What’s wild is how different Salem feels now. You walk around the town and yeah, the souvenir shops are everywhere. But if you look a little closer—beyond the candles shaped like skulls and the t-shirts with clever quotes—you’ll find real witches. Real energy. Real intention.

There are metaphysical shops with entire walls of herbs. Quiet bookstores that smell like old paper and lavender. People sitting behind altars offering tarot readings or just holding space. It doesn’t feel trendy when you’re paying attention. It feels alive.

That contrast—the horror of the past and the freedom of the present—makes the magick stronger. At least it does for me. The work we do isn’t just about spells or full moons. It’s about choice. It’s about reclaiming what was stolen. About deciding, every day, to be whole.

🧺 If you’re curious or ready to try it for yourself, this Witchcraft Supplies Kit has everything you need to light a candle, set a simple intention, and begin. Our library of 2-minute spells are practical and accessible.

Honoring the Past, Empowering the Present

Before I left the museum, I stood for a long time in front of this one panel. It was about the last of the accused. The ones who survived after the frenzy ended. Some of them waited years to have their names cleared. Others died before they were ever acknowledged.

And I just kept thinking… how many voices were lost forever? How many stories went untold?

I think that’s why the craft matters so much to me. It’s not about rebellion or identity or being different on purpose. Instead, it’s about remembrance. It’s about healing something we may not have caused—but we carry anyway.

Modern witchcraft isn’t perfect. It’s not always easy. But it gives us a language. A way to speak for those who couldn’t. A way to choose power with integrity. To protect what’s sacred. To live aligned with something older than fear.

There’s a quote by Starhawk that I think about a lot:
“To reclaim the word witch is to reclaim our right to be powerful, to know the sacred, to heal, and to change the world.”

That’s it. That’s the work.

Not costumes. Not labels. Just quiet power. Real, steady, earth-deep power.

📬 Want more? I share beginner-friendly spells, old magick, personal stories, and tools to help you walk your path with clarity and intention.
✨ Subscribe below to get new posts, rituals, and resources straight to your inbox.