The Geometry of Spirit: Navigating the Work of Sallie Ann Glassman

In the heart of the French Quarter, the Island of Salvation Botanica serves as both a sanctuary and a focal point for the city’s complex spiritual landscape. For Sallie Ann Glassman, Mambo Osagway, the work of African-derived spirituality is an ongoing battle against a centuries-old effort to cast the practice as something to be feared.

“There was an intentional effort to cast voodoo as something very evil,” Glassman said. “I think, because it was the opposite, that it gave people, first of all, of their own history, of their ancestry, of a world that surrounds and encompasses the visible world that is invisible, that is a different source of power and meaning.”

Glassman is perhaps the most visible face of Vodou in New Orleans, a position that brings a high degree of scrutiny. To step into her world is to enter a space where tradition and the public eye collide. Among many in the city’s deeply rooted spiritual community, there is a divergence in how the practice should be presented. Some practitioners, favoring a quiet, lineage-based stewardship, view Glassman’s high-visibility approach as theatrical. For these critics, the challenge lies in the boundary between service and spectacle.

Glassman is not unaware of this friction. She carries the weight of a complex identity: a woman of Ukrainian Jewish descent leading an African-derived tradition in a city defined by the scars of the domestic slave trade. When asked about her path, she explains that for someone like her, whose own family was murdered and whose history in Ukraine was nearly erased, the search for meaning was a search for lost connection.

“Vodou reestablishes that memory; it gives you access to your ancestors in an honorable, dignified way,” Glassman said.

She insists that her initiation was a life-altering experience of palpable spiritual truth. While she maintains that she serves through the direct guidance of Haitian elders and lineages, she acknowledges that the dynamic of race and power in this country is a horrible mess. She views her work, including the New Orleans International Vodou Day, as a necessary attempt to move past the surface-level expectations of the city.

To report on Glassman is to report on the geography of a tradition in transition. She stands as a bridge for some, and a question mark for others. For the observer, the advice she offers remains the same: set aside the ego. Whether that presence is found in a quiet, traditional society or in the public eye of the French Quarter, the task remains the same: to witness the practice, acknowledge the complexity, and understand that in a city like New Orleans, the door to the spirit world is never as simple as it seems.

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This story is part of a semester-long investigative reporting project into African spirituality, history, and culture. It was created by an immersion journalism class in the Journalism, Advertising, and Media Studies program at UW-Milwaukee. Other stories from the project are available on The Power of the Tongue: From Walker’s Point to Congo Square.

This work was made possible through the support of MPC Endowment Ltd., the philanthropic affiliate of the Milwaukee Press Club, and a private donor.