Two years to the date that this TV show released, it felt right to share this today. Following on my reflections in my blog post 'Seekest thou the path', and my influence and involvement of a forthcoming anthology on witchcraft and popular culture - which derived from my enthusiastic interest from such TV entertainment media. Where I was originally an editor and going to contribute a chapter and co-write the introduction. I intended focusing on my lived experience through a recent TV show - what I am sharing here. However, as this was out of my core knowledge base field, it led me to withdraw from the project. Though I am still involved as a research assistant, in designing and distributing the online survey instrument for data collection that we are planning to use. However, I later thought I might as well produce something accessible through a blog post and reshape the initial intention, including some literature I became aware of through related conversations on the publication and via general research. I did reflect extensively and collected substantive notes to work on, so it would be a shame not to use the material. Plus, I thought when I complete in the online survey as a participant it would provide excellent supplementary information to include.
One of the strongest insights I emphasise is that my contribution is understanding how people come to learn through TV media, which makes this piece very distinctive. Whilst analysis on Agatha All Along as a TV show or debates on whether it represents contemporary witchcraft accurately might be common. What I have undertaken is thoughtfully examine how a TV show can act as a catalyst for identity development, curiosity and reflective practice.
Considering all of that, I decided to collaborate through GenAI can help me articulate my complex case study of my lived experience, through my deep and long and perhaps messy material, and present as a hybrid typical accessible blog post, but with a bit of supporting scholarship to give some light academic rigour. I feel my story and experience is rarely visible/published and offers a significant and valuable contribution to this interesting and complex field. To be clear, the article is not a conclusion, but a starting point for further research should I wish to. And to be transparent, I supplied to GenAI my 'Seekest thou the path' blog post, original chapter abstract and my extensive original chapter notes for the book I was going to contribute to. GenAI did not produce something independently without my own nerdy and deeply personal and reflective inputs, therefore I define it as a true collaboration. GenAI will not fully understand my lived experience. We had months of really deep conversations sharing both our perspectives, based on the content, questions and answers I had supplied. It literally felt like I was working with another person going back and forth to get a piece we were both happy with. As what I thought I wanted to write about was actually different. Revelatory, conversing with GenAI helped me realise that I was not writing about why I am drawn to the figure of a witch and witchcraft, but about how people learn through TV media and how it helped me notice and reveal my spiritual identity, which I allowed it to fully emerge, embrace and proudly make it visible and own it. Which I guess lends itself well given I am a strong visual and pragmatic learner. Essentially, somehow the TV show refocused my attention to my spiritual side after years of dormant and infrequent spiritual work. Forgive the pun, but it was inherently there all along. Previous blog posts of mine detail more of my endeavours and origins (newest to old) 'Drum birthing workshop - ready to begin', 'Roots to radiance - a mini retreat', 'Catching the dream - a mini retreat', 'Seekest thou the path', 'Dreaming, rituals and values', 'Roots and beyond', 'The calling, awakening and initiation', 'Energy through numbers', 'Orca-strating' and 'Get my rocks on'.
One final thing before I head into the article. As part of my 40th birthday gifts, my husband Gary drew me a surprise poster of some iconic witches from popular culture TV and movies. It literally provides visual evidence of the said impact these TV shows and movies have had on me! My interests and identity is very much perceived and recognised by others. Me at end of August - "Because today has felt Autumnal... 🍂 Amongst the kindness I've received over my birthday month, there was one heartfelt surprise present from the hub. He drew this for me and put it in a black frame. Some of my favourite/iconic witches from pop culture! 🧙🏻♀️ Absolutely love it, I can't stop looking at it. Well, I feel seen ha. He asked if there was any others that could have been in, I went on to suggest Misty Day, Rio Vidal/Death (genius that a green witch should be personified as death), and a cheeky reference to Stevie Nicks."
The influence of witchcraft in the entertainment media industry has been very prominent, especially through Disney, as historically they have proven to favour a witch character arc, often evil for cursing and trickery purposes. Witches have been present in our lives through various stories and media types. In modern times, for some, film and television are often the first entry point of encountering a witch figure, enabling viewer interest to engage and learn more about witches and witchcraft. If the figure of the witch and associate practices are not too farfetched in how it is conveyed. Therefore, this identifies an area for further exploration.
This chapter critically examines how a modern televised representation of witches and practical magic in Agatha All Along (Disney, 2024), a Disney+ miniseries. Indicating that Agatha All Along might not only serve as media entertainment and spectacle, but as a catalyst for casual viewers to explore interest in basic contemporary witchcraft as a potential starting point for novices. Shifting casual viewers from passive viewing to an explorer and potential practitioner, moving from fantasy to experiential reality.
The chapter will holistically analyse Agatha All Along through a number of theoretical evidence-based witchcraft lenses coupled with my own lived experience, identifying common themes and present-day depictions, representations, tropes and commentary on aestheticisation. Grounding and discussing these attributes in relevant literature, and how these attributes could increase perceived viewer accessibility and inspire exploratory engagement with real-world basic witchcraft practices. Therefore, the focus is not on how Agatha All Along accurately represents witches and witchcraft and if/what Disney/Marvel got it right, but arriving at how it incorporates, balances and moves beyond fantasy and spectacle with real-world exploration and application. Ultimately addressing, how does Agatha All Along construct witches and witchcraft as experientially plausible, and how does that plausibility enable viewer exploration? And more broadly, does this offer another contribution to the influence of witchcraft in the entertainment media industry?
Daniel is a learning technologist providing digital, academic and strategic leadership and operational management, in the pedagogical and technical design and application of learning technologies. He holds a Technology Enhanced Learning MSc, Senior Fellowship of the Higher Education Authority (SFHEA) and Senior Certified Membership of the Association for Learning Technology (SCMALT). He is qualified in teaching, assessing, lead internal verification, management and leadership and information technology and computing. He is the winner of the ALT Learning Technologist of the Year Award 2016 (individual category), and is the author of 'Digital Learning, Teaching and Assessment for HE and FE Practitioners' (2022). In addition to his personal spiritual interests and practices, he is a lifelong consumer of how the figure of a witch and witchcraft is depicted in the media entertainment industry, more specifically TV and film from the 1990s to present day.
Article:Beyond the screen: how Agatha All Along TV series enabled active learning exploration and reconnection to personal spiritualityCan TV (television) inspire more than
entertainment? We usually think of TV as
escapism; watch to relax, laugh, be frightened or temporarily disappear into
another world. Fantasy, perhaps more
than any other genre, asks us to suspend disbelief. We accept supernatural powers, impossible
worlds and mythical creatures because they are entertaining, not because we
expect them to change our lives. Occasionally,
though, a TV series does something unexpected. It might reconnect us with an interest we have
quietly carried for years and gives us enough curiosity, confidence or
permission to explore it beyond the screen.
I think Agatha All Along (2024) did
exactly that for me. This isn’t an
argument about whether Marvel accurately represents witchcraft. Nor am I claiming expertise in contemporary
witchcraft, Wicca or Pagan traditions. There
are people far more knowledgeable than me to have those conversations. Instead, I am interested in something slightly
different; how can a particular representation of witchcraft move someone from
passive viewing towards active exploration?
My response to Agatha All Along can be
understood through Graham Gibbs' (1988) model of reflective practice, moving
from experience and emotional response towards analysis, learning and
subsequent action. Alongside ideas
around lived religion and spirituality from scholars such as Meredith McGuire
(2008) and Robert Orsi (2005), and Van Gennep (1960) and Victor Turner’s (1969)
work on rites of passage, ritual and liminality, and contemporary Pagan
scholarship by Helen Berger (1999), Sabina Magliocco (2004) and Ronald Hutton (2018).
I have realised that my story is perhaps
less about witches and witchcraft than I initially thought. What's literally quite magical about all of
this, pardon the pun, it is about how people learn through TV media, how
popular culture sometimes becomes an unexpected enabler and teacher, and in the process understanding
myself a bit more. And interestingly, my
professional background makes that particularly difficult to ignore.
Growing up with figures of witches
Before talking about Agatha All Along, I think it’s important to
acknowledge something I only realised while writing this piece; my interest in
witches didn’t begin with this TV series.
In truth, it has quietly followed me for most of my life. Like many people, my first encounters with
witches came through popular culture and at a young age.
My fascination with witches began long before Agatha Harkness
appeared on Disney+. Some of my earliest
encounters came through Disney. Characters
such as Ursula from The Little Mermaid and the familiar villainous witch
archetypes of Snow White and Sleeping Beauty introduced me to witches as
mysterious, powerful and usually rather dangerous figures. Then came Hocus Pocus, The Craft, Practical Magic, Sabrina the
Teenage Witch, Sleepy Hollow, American Horror Story: Coven and Apocalypse, and
later Chilling Adventures of Sabrina.
Long before I understood anything about contemporary witchcraft, those
characters had already established the visual language of the witch in my
imagination. I have therefore spent much
of my life as a consumer of the witch figure in popular culture. As I grew older that fascination never
disappeared, it evolved. But looking
back it was rarely the spells that interested me most. I was drawn towards community, belonging,
mystery, nature, ritual, healing, specialised knowledge, camaraderie and people
who existed slightly outside conventional society. I liked the idea of covens, not necessarily
because members possessed magical powers, but because they represented groups
of like-minded people sharing knowledge and supporting one another. They possessed specialist knowledge that sat
outside conventional institutions. They
lived close to nature, healed as much as they harmed, developed rituals, were
often misunderstood, and therefore frequently treated as outsiders.
I recall in one of my blog posts (Scott, 2018) I stated “I have
always thought of myself as something different to others, like Matilda she was
'different' and alone but was able to use it positively as well as her own
company.” Perhaps this is why programmes
that weren’t about witches appealed to me too.
Desperate Housewives and Sex and the City, for example, offered strong
communities, chosen relationships and bonds between people navigating life
together. Even though these programmes
have nothing to do with witchcraft, they represented something similar to what
I later recognised in fictional covens, finding your people. Perhaps what I have always been searching for
is not magic itself but belonging.
Looking back I can see that the fictional witches I was fascinated by
represented forms of community and practice long before I had language for
them. This connects with Orsi's (2005)
argument that ‘religious worlds’ are made through the practices, relationships
and meanings of those who inhabit them. McGuire's
(2008) concept of lived religion is also useful because it directs attention
away from prescribed systems of belief towards what people actually do and
experience in everyday life. Therefore,
emphasis on that spirituality is not necessarily experienced through formal
doctrine. It can emerge through everyday
relationships, objects, practices and experiences.
The figure of the witch also represents the outsider, of which has
become personally significant. I grew up
working class and was underestimated because of my poor educational beginnings.
I subsequently entered Higher Education,
developed a professional career and as a gay man, have experienced being
different from expectations in other ways. I don’t claim that my experience is equivalent
to the historical persecution of people labelled as witches, but I can
understand why the broader archetype of the outsider resonates. The witch has repeatedly been used in popular
culture to represent someone who does not quite fit. Perhaps that is why the figure endures, I saw
something of myself in these fictional witches long before I consciously
recognised it.
There is also something compelling about the historical image of the
witch as someone who exists outside established systems of authority. Historically, witches have often been
portrayed as threatening because they represented alternative forms of
knowledge and power. Whether healers,
midwives, herbalists or simply women and sometimes men who refused to conform,
they occupied a space that challenged accepted authority. Popular culture has frequently simplified
that history into familiar tropes of good versus evil, but traces of those
deeper narratives remain visible beneath the surface. I sometimes wonder whether this explains
another aspect of my lifelong fascination.
Beyond special visual effects
What strikes me most now is that, despite decades of consuming
witch-themed media, none of these stories ever persuaded me that I wanted to
become a witch. They simply kept
returning, decade after decade, almost like familiar companions. That is why Agatha All Along proved so
unexpected. At first glance it might be
appear that Agatha All Along made me interested in witchcraft (Scott, 2025). It wasn’t the first witch story I had loved,
it was the first one that made me pause and ask why. As I reflected on that question, I realised
something that surprised me. In reality,
for over thirty years, I had quietly been collecting fragments of what might be
described as a “witch identity” without ever consciously assembling them. Collecting crystals and books I bought and
gifted to me on shelves, and oracle cards tucked away in my drawers. A lifelong fascination with forests and
autumn, and an attraction to rituals, symbolism, community, healing, mystery
and nature. Later came Movement
Medicine, interest in shamanism and shamanic practices, vision boards, and
countless walks through local woodlands that gradually became places of
reflection rather than simply somewhere to exercise. Also thinking about healing, and frequently
reflecting and writing in those previous blog posts, and now examining why I
feel drawn to the witch figure. None of
those interests arrived because of Agatha All Along, they were already
there. The series simply gave them
somewhere to belong. That, I think, is
the beginning of the story I really want to tell.
Agatha All
Along was not the beginning of my fascination. It was the catalyst that connected everything
together. Like many viewers, I had first
encountered Agatha Harkness through WandaVision (Disney, 2021), where Kathryn Hahn’s
memorable performance transformed what initially appeared to be a supporting
comic relief character into one of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s most
intriguing figures. The revelation of
Agatha’s identity instantly became iconic, and I remember being genuinely
surprised that Marvel had fully embraced witches within its cinematic universe. I was fascinated and it reeled me in; a witch
existed within the Marvel Cinematic Universe!
However, I recognise Wanda Maximoff featured in Marvel media before
Agatha All Along. Though her title of
Scarlet Witch wasn’t officially revealed until Agatha Harkness identified her
as this in WandaVision. More
importantly, Agatha wasn’t simply a conventional Disney villain. She was complicated, charismatic, powerful,
funny, manipulative and increasingly vulnerable. Agatha originally appeared in Marvel Comics
in Fantastic Four #94 in 1969, created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. Her television incarnation subsequently
developed into one of Marvel’s more interesting witch characters.
When Agatha All Along arrived in September 2024, I was ready for it. Leaning heavily into other similar TV shows I
enjoyed, it has been clearly designed around the current fourth-wave,
feminist-informed, witchcraft-themed trends and tropes of recent years
(Trammell 2020, Schubart 2019, Maclaran 2015).
Borrowing a popular maiden, mother, crone concept, aesthetic/treatment. The show brought together many of the things
I already loved: mystery, horror, fantasy, humour, immersive practical production design,
music, character development, witchcraft and a journey through an enchanted
landscape (Marvel Entertainment, 2024). It felt to me like The
Goonies meets The Craft, with a little Interstellar, Saw and Ghost Whisperer
thrown in. However, what surprised me
most was not the quality of the production, although the performances, music,
writing and practical sets were exceptional. Nor was it simply that the series centered
entirely on witches. I had watched
countless witch-themed films and television series throughout my life. But its biggest achievement was making
witchcraft feel approachable. It
certainly contained fantasy and spectacle, well this is Marvel after all. But it didn’t rely entirely upon spectacular Computer-Generated
Imagery. Although sometimes rendered as
caricature, alongside the magical effects were recognisable practices and
symbols: chanting, covens, elemental associations, moon phases, ritual, divination,
potion-making, sacred spaces, tarot and specialist witches and forms of magical
practice, that balance somehow mattered.
Rather than presenting witchcraft as something impossibly distant, the
series quietly grounds much of its visual language in practices that feel
recognisable. Although these are
naturally dramatised for TV and should never be mistaken for documentaries,
they nevertheless create a sense that aspects of what is being shown exist
beyond the screen. The fantasy remains
and it becomes approachable. Also,
perhaps one of the most important distinctions is that Agatha All Along
portrays witchcraft as something people do, rather than simply something they
believe. That connects strongly with
lived religion scholarship where witches gather together, they perform rituals,
work with the elements, chant, use objects, heal, collaborate, amongst many
other things of course. Berger's (1999) and
Magliocco’s (2004) research into contemporary Pagan communities is particularly
relevant because witchcraft can operate not simply as a set of magical
techniques but as a means of constructing identity, community and belonging. That helps explain why the idea of a coven
has remained so attractive to me.
During its release, Agatha All Along generated significant
discussion across social media, inspiring fan theories, artwork, musical
covers, reaction videos and countless analyses of its symbolism. The Ballad of the Witches’ Road quickly
became one of the programme’s defining cultural moments, functioning almost
like an authentic folk song that had somehow travelled through generations
before finding its way into the Marvel universe. Even outside the series, listeners embraced different
arrangements and interpretations, while I found myself replaying it long after
the final episode. Like the Road itself,
the music seemed to invite participation rather than passive observation.
The programme also succeeds because it avoids reducing witches to a
single stereotype. Popular culture has
often oscillated between two extremes.
Witches are either terrifying villains or glamorous caricatures. Historically, Disney contributed heavily to
this image, with witches frequently serving as figures of deception, curses and
evil. While those characters remain
culturally iconic, they rarely encourage viewers to think beyond fantasy. Agatha All Along broadens that picture
considerably. Its witches possess
different strengths, personalities and relationships with power. Some specialise in divination, others in
protection, healing or elemental practice.
The show’s depiction of Death as a witch particularly resonated with
me. Through my own interest in
shamanism, I have encountered the idea of death as teacher: not simply
something frightening at the end of life, but something that accompanies us
throughout it. Agatha All Along’s
treatment of Death similarly presents death as part of the natural cycle of
existence. I found particularly
compelling given my own growing interest in nature-based spirituality and
aspects of shamanic thought, where death is often understood not simply as an
ending, but as transformation. The final
earth trial, with its imagery of burial, emergence and reclaiming what is
desired, reinforces that idea of death and rebirth. Again, the show didn’t teach me this, it gave
me a symbolic language through which I could think about it.
The series also quietly challenges another familiar assumption. Not every witch is good. Not every witch is evil. Agatha herself exists somewhere between those
extremes. Her story continually peels
away layers of personality, trauma, ambition, humour and vulnerability,
creating a character who is difficult to either condemn or celebrate outright. That ambiguity makes her far more human than
the traditional fairy-tale witch. Perhaps
that complexity is what makes her memorable.
Which is another important reason why the show affected me. The stereotype of the witch is deeply
entrenched in popular culture and the human psyche. For centuries, the witch has been constructed
as the dangerous woman, the outsider, the seductress, the hag, the healer or
the embodiment of supernatural evil.
Ronald Hutton’s (2018) work on the historical and contemporary witch
figure provides a useful framework here.
He identifies several different ways the term “witch” has been
understood, including those who use magic for positive purposes, practitioners
associated with Pagan religion such as Wicca, people who adopt the witch as a
symbol of independence and authority, and the historical image of the harmful
supernatural witch. Agatha All Along
plays with these traditions rather than presenting one simple version. Agatha herself is deliberately difficult to
categorise. She steals witches’ powers
to survive. She is a witch and,
paradoxically, a witch-killer. She is
selfish but occasionally protective; cruel but vulnerable; powerful but
increasingly diminished. Kathryn Hahn
has described Agatha’s story as a process of losing her youth through the
trials, perhaps the overarching maiden,
mother crone theme? I later felt that this reflects my journey and growth in reconnecting to my own spirituality. However, the character was
always moving towards death. In that
sense, the Road becomes a cycle of life, decline, death and transformation
rather than simply a quest for magical power.
Equally important was the programme’s inclusivity. The introduction of Billy Maximoff, better
known to comic readers as Wiccan, felt like a natural continuation of Marvel’s
increasingly diverse storytelling. Rather
than treating his queer identity as the defining feature of his character, it
simply existed alongside his curiosity, compassion and magical development. As a gay man myself, I appreciated seeing that
normalisation. Representation matters
most when it feels ordinary rather than performative. The series’ recognition through LGBTQ+ awards
suggests many viewers felt similarly. My
own experience of spiritual circles has similarly found me as an ‘honorary
male’ among women, creating an unexpected resonance with Wiccan’s experience
alongside Agatha and the other witches.
Within the show, the Witches’ Road becomes a liminal space. The coven moves through a series of trials,
each associated with different people, elements, abilities and challenges. The structure of the Witches' Road can also
be read through the anthropological concept of the rite of passage. Van Gennep (1960) identified separation,
transition and incorporation as recurring elements of such processes, while
Turner (1969) subsequently developed the concept of liminality to describe the
transformative space between established states of identity. The Road isn’t simply somewhere the
characters travel, it changes them. One
of the cleverest aspects of the programme, however, is something I only
recognised much later. The Witches’ Road
functions on two levels simultaneously.
Within the narrative it is a mystical place of trials and
transformation. Outside the narrative it
becomes a metaphor. Each trial asks
participants to confront fear, grief, identity, relationships and
self-understanding before they are allowed to continue. Although presented through fantasy, these
experiences resemble the kinds of symbolic journeys found throughout mythology,
pilgrimage traditions and many contemporary wellbeing practices. The Road is magical but it is also deeply
human. That was the moment everything
shifted for me. I realised I wasn’t
simply watching fictional witches overcome impossible challenges. I was watching a story about growth, healing,
community, and finding the courage to keep walking, even when the destination
remains uncertain. Perhaps that explains
why Agatha All Along affected me so profoundly.
The TV series didn’t teach me witchcraft it taught me permission. Permission to slow down, to become curious
with my spirituality again, to reconnect with nature, to explore ritual without
embarrassment, to wonder whether the interests I had quietly carried throughout
my life were worth taking seriously. It
didn’t give me new interests, it legitimised old ones. Looking back now I think that is the
programme’s greatest achievement. Not
that it persuaded me to explore witchcraft or become a witch, which wasn't my
intention anyway. But that it quietly
reminded me that curiosity itself can be a perfectly valid place to begin. A completely fantastical portrayal can be
entertaining but difficult to translate into curiosity about real life. Agatha All Along repeatedly gave me things I
could actually go away and investigate.
It became less an instruction manual and more an invitation.
From spectatorship to exploration: walking my own Witches’ Road
Once the series finished, something unexpected happened. I didn’t immediately search for spells or
attempt to recreate scenes from the programme.
Instead, I began noticing what was already around me. Perhaps that sounds strange, but I genuinely
believe Agatha All Along didn’t introduce anything entirely new into my
life. Rather, it encouraged me to
reconnect with interests and experiences that had quietly accumulated over many
years. I found myself opening books that
had sat unread on my shelves. Using
oracle cards more deeply that had long remained tucked away. Handling crystals that had fascinated me
since childhood. Pondering why I had
Tibetan bells and a wooden shamanic rattle that had gathered dust. None of these objects suddenly became magical
because of a TV series. They simply
became meaningful again and that distinction feels important. The show didn’t persuade me to believe
anything, it encouraged me to become curious.
Curiosity, I have come to realise is a surprisingly powerful thing. Rather than rushing towards certainty or
adopting an identity, I simply allowed myself to explore. Some evenings that meant sitting quietly with
oracle cards. Others involved reading
books on contemporary shamanism or witchcraft.
Sometimes it meant nothing more than walking through woodland with a
heightened awareness of the changing seasons, textures, sounds and wildlife
around me. The more I slowed down the
more I noticed. One of the most
unexpected consequences has been my changing relationship with nature. I’ve always enjoyed woodlands, but over the
past year they have become something altogether different. Places that once served as pleasant walking
routes have gradually become spaces of reflection. I notice individual trees, the changing
colours of leaves, the movement of birds, the textures of bark and stone, the
shifting atmosphere as one season quietly gives way to another. When I first moved to north Nottinghamshire
in 2018, I remember thinking that the nearby woodland might become significant
one day. I had no idea how true that
would become. Local woodlands and other
green spaces have gradually become places I now think of as sacred, not in a
religious sense, but in the way they consistently offer perspective, calm and
restoration. That growing connection has
also made me more emotionally invested in the natural world itself.
Looking back, I can also see that this shift extends beyond
witchcraft alone. For several years I
have explored practices grounded in shamanic traditions, initially through working
with animal spirit oracle cards at a young age, later Movement Medicine and
other workshops focused on embodiment, healing and personal development. Although witchcraft and shamanism are
distinct traditions, I tend to place them under the same 'spiritual umbrella' of paganism/neo-paganism. However, I am more aligned to shamanism given
I currently and previously experienced those practices. I’m not especially interested in labels, nor
do I feel the need to declare myself a witch, a shaman or a member of any
particular spiritual tradition. If
anything, I feel more comfortable describing myself simply as witchy. That probably says more about my interests
than my identity. I remain fascinated by
ritual, symbolism, intuition, healing, nature and community, but I have little
interest in adopting these practices as an aesthetic or performing them for
appearance’s sake. This work, however I
eventually define it, feels sacred rather than fashionable. That distinction matters enormously to me. One observation that has stayed with me
throughout this journey comes from The Craft.
Fairuza Balk once reflected that films about witchcraft often distort
something she regarded as deeply sacred in order to make it more commercially
appealing. I think there is wisdom in
that observation. Popular culture
frequently encourages us to admire witches.
It doesn’t always encourage us to understand them.
The Witches’ Road reminded me of spiritual visualisation and
shamanic journeying and other reflective practices where an individual
temporarily steps away from ordinary life and enters a different psychological
or symbolic space. Perhaps the most
enjoyable example of this came from an idea inspired directly by The Witches’
Road. I began imagining my own
real-world version of the Witches’ Road, using local woods and the four
elements as inspiration for seasonal trials.
I asked ChatGPT to help me construct these. That might sound slightly ridiculous, but it
illustrates the transition perfectly. I
was no longer simply watching the programme, I was playing with its ideas,
adapting them and making meaning from them, which can be viewed as exploratory
learning. The result wasn’t an attempt
to recreate Marvel. It became an
invitation to explore my own landscape differently. Likewise, creating a Lego version of the
Witches’ Road with my husband, beginning a handwritten grimoire type book for
collecting meaningful rituals and gradually building a small personal library,
all became expressions of curiosity rather than belief.
The Road had quietly left Disney, it had become my own. That, perhaps, is the programme’s most
unexpected legacy. It transformed
passive entertainment into active participation. Not through grand gestures, but through
countless small ones. As I reflect on
the past year, I also realise something else.
As I have deeply reflected on my adult life (Scott, 2026), I have
directed enormous energy towards education, career progression and professional
achievement, and I’m incredibly proud of that journey. Growing up working class, education
transformed my life. It gave me
opportunities I could never have imagined.
But achievement also has a habit of becoming all-consuming. There comes a point where another
qualification, another project or another promotion no longer answers the
questions that begin quietly emerging underneath. Who am I when I’m not working? What nourishes me? Where do I experience genuine peace? Those questions have become increasingly
important. Perhaps that is why this
exploration feels so timely. Rather than
replacing my professional identity, it complements it. It reminds me that personal development isn’t
solely intellectual. Sometimes it is
embodied, emotional, simply involves standing beneath trees, listening to
birdsong and allowing yourself to remember that you are part of something much
larger than your own ambitions. The more
I reflect on this journey, the less I think it is really about witchcraft at
all. It is about paying attention to
nature, intuition, creativity, community, to those quiet parts of ourselves
that modern life often encourages us to ignore.
Perhaps that has always been my real Witches’ Road. I just didn’t recognise it until now.
This is where I also think my professional life unexpectedly becomes
relevant. I’ve spent my career working
in education and learning technology, thinking about engagement, motivation,
accessibility, participation and how people move from curiosity towards
meaningful learning. That is exactly
what happened to me. The curriculum just
happened to be Agatha All Along. The
show didn’t teach me how to become a witch. Instead, it made existing interests feel
sufficiently accessible to investigate further. I started using books and crystals I had owned
for years. I began working with oracle
cards again and bought the show’s official tarot deck, along with other related
transmedia products. I became more
attentive to local woods and nature. I
started looking for practitioners and workshops locally. It reignited my interest in healing, ritual,
shamanism and the relationship between humans and the natural world. In other words, I moved from consumption
towards active exploration. That is what
makes this experience really interesting to me.
It’s about I engaged and was learning through TV media. Therefore, whilst I have enjoyed witchy TV
shows and films prior to Agatha All Along, it clearly gave me permissions of
sorts to nudge and connect me back into my spiritual interests and
identity. Agatha All Along didn't begin this, it was: lifelong curiosity,
media catalyst, exploratory learning and identity development.
As I have reflected on this journey over the past two years, I have
become increasingly convinced that Agatha All Along succeeded not because it
perfectly represents contemporary witchcraft, no television series ever could, but
because it understands something much more important. Throughout its key story to develop and move
forward the trilogy and character arch narratives, it someone conveyed and
understood curiosity. The series never
asks its audience to believe in magic, instead, it quietly encourages viewers,
in my case, to ask questions. For some
viewers, those questions will end when the credits roll. For others, they may become the beginning of
an entirely different journey. I suspect
that is exactly what happened to me. I
wasn’t inspired because the programme convinced me witches were real. I was inspired because it reminded me that
wonder and curiosity is still possible.
We often think stories entertain us, but sometimes they do something
much deeper. They provide language for
experiences we have not yet been able to articulate. They reveal patterns that have quietly
existed beneath our lives for years.
They help us recognise parts of ourselves that were already waiting
patiently to be discovered. Looking back
now, I don’t think Agatha All Along changed who I am. It revealed who I had quietly been becoming
all along. That may sound dramatic but I
genuinely believe it. For over thirty
years, I had been collecting fragments without ever consciously assembling
them. Each interest sat independently
never quite forming a complete picture.
Then one television series unexpectedly connected the dots. It didn’t tell me what to believe. It simply gave those interests somewhere to
belong. Perhaps that is why the Witches’
Road resonates so strongly with me.
Within the programme it represents a magical journey. Outside the programme, I have come to see it
as something much more universal. Every
one of us walks our own road; we encounter different trials lose parts of
ourselves, rediscover others. Sometimes
we walk alongside companions or continue alone.
Often we have little idea where the path is leading, yet we keep
walking. The destination matters less
than the person we become while travelling.
That idea feels far older than Marvel.
Perhaps that is why it speaks so powerfully. People often ask whether TV can genuinely
influence our lives; life imitates art?
I think it can. Not because it
tells us what to think. But because it
occasionally gives us permission to explore thoughts we were already carrying.
Whether that exploration ultimately leads someone towards
contemporary witchcraft, shamanic practice, mindfulness, environmental
awareness, creative expression or simply a greater appreciation of the changing
seasons almost feels secondary. The
important thing is that it encourages exploration. Curiosity has always been the beginning of
learning. Still allowing the questions
to unfold naturally rather than rushing towards answers. That feels like the most honest place to be. It turned out that this isn’t really about
Agatha All Along, it’s about what good stories do to people. Sometimes they entertain us. Sometimes they stay with us. And, every so often, they quietly arrive at
exactly the right moment in our lives, giving us permission to reconnect with
parts of ourselves that were always there, waiting patiently to be noticed. Perhaps that has been my journey all along.
This isn’t the end of the road
What I did find surprising in my reflections was realising how
closely this experience mirrors my professional life. For 16+ years I
have worked in education and digital pedagogy, studying how people become
motivated to learn, how different media encourage participation, and how
curiosity develops into sustained practice. For example, through my full-time work, broadly I have been asking and studying questions like how do people become interested? how do people engage? what motivates deeper learning? how does technology encourage participation? and how does curiosity become practice? The key audience being teachers/lecturers
and students. These are the questions I have been answering throughout my
career and I just happen to be my own case study in this. Which can be
connected to autoethnography, reflective practice and learning theory. Viewed through this lens, I feel that Agatha
All Along becomes an example of informal learning. The series never attempted to teach
witchcraft directly, instead it reduced the perceived distance between fantasy
and reality.
The
more I have reflected on this experience, the more I realise that Agatha All
Along didn’t make me believe in witchcraft.
It reminded me why I’d always been fascinated by it. It gave me permission to use books I had
owned for years, actually use tarot rather than simply collect it, walk through
woods differently, think about ritual, reconnect with nature and mystery,
investigate local practitioners and take my interest in healing more seriously. Regarding tarot, as I began experimenting with it, I found myself reflecting on the symbolic narratives presented in both the cards and the TV series. Whether understood spiritually or psychologically, but I am more aligned to the former, the practice encouraged self-reflection in ways I had previously neglected. The show didn’t create an identity, it helped me notice one, and I allowed it to fully emerge and proudly make it visible and own it. That is why I think
contemporary TV can be more powerful than we sometimes acknowledge. Popular culture can act as a catalyst for
identity development. It can provide
vocabulary, imagery and permission to explore interests that already exist
beneath the surface – and this raises a much bigger question for me. How do contemporary media representations of
ritual, spirituality and practice encourage audiences to move from passive
spectatorship towards active exploratory learning? That question extends well beyond witchcraft.
The same process could happen with
mindfulness, pilgrimage, genealogy, nature connection, crafting, historical re-enactment
or any number of other interests. I’ve
spent my career thinking about how people learn. Perhaps I have simply discovered that I am
also a learner, and my own Witches’ Road didn’t begin with Agatha All Along, it
began much earlier. But Agatha All Along
reminded me to keep walking it.
References
Berger, H.A. (1999) A Community of Witches: Contemporary Neo-Paganism and Witchcraft in the United States. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press.
Disney. (2021) WandaVision [Online]. Available from: https://www.disneyplus.com/en-gb/browse/entity-90affd1f-0851-48bc-9cab-c142d5c9c20c [Accessed 8 September 2026].
Disney. (2024) Agatha All Along [Online]. Available from: https://www.disneyplus.com/en-gb/browse/entity-5e474669-a4a2-4b90-a928-5ae7f845090c [Accessed 8 September 2026].
Gibbs, G. (1988) Learning by Doing: A Guide to Teaching and Learning Methods. Oxford: Further Education Unit, Oxford Polytechnic.
Hutton, R. (2018) The Witch: A History of Fear from Ancient Times to the Present. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Maclaran, P. (2015) Feminism’s fourth wave: A research agenda for marketing and consumer research. Journal of Marketing Management, 31(15–16): 1732–1738.
Magliocco, S. (2004) Witching Culture: Folklore and Neo-Paganism in America. Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press.
Marvel Entertainment. (2024) Marvel Studios’ Assembled: The Making of Agatha All Along [Online]. Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0LxA8vGSGo&t=2851s [Accessed 8 September 2026].
