It's not a dirty word

Editors embrace feminism as label and action

Who is a feminist?

Young. Old. In-between. Asian. African-American. Gay. Happy. In black boots. Women. And a half a dozen men.

They were all -- about 60 strong -- crowded into the basement of Durham's Regulator Bookshop for a friendly meet-and-greet with a decidedly bodacious theme. Andi Zeisler and Lisa Jervis would call it a good, old-fashioned "Bitchfest."

Zeisler and Jervis are the co-editors of an anthology of the same name, culled from their decade-old feminist magazine called Bitch.

And no, the provocative nature of the name isn't lost on them.

"We liked the word as noun and verb," says Zeisler. "We liked the verb form best." They also like the idea of co-opting the insulting meaning of the word.

When they couldn't get approval of the name for corporate use, they switched to B-Word Worldwide. That's the name on their office door.

The magazine, a nonprofit, independent, quarterly magazine published in Oakland, Calif., is often described as the new "Ms.," that bible of feminism founded by Gloria Steinem. Zeisler and Jervis' effort is very 21st century; it explores pop culture, the lingua franca of these times, examining it through a feminist prism.

It's not the first magazine of its kind. Debbie Stoller, founder of, curiously, the Stitch n' Bitch knitting movement, started similarly themed Bust magazine in 1993.

Nowadays, though, Bust has become less critical and more pop. Zeisler and Jervis have stuck to their publication's critical edge, which tends to limit its advertising pool. A recent offer by a cigarette company has its editors weighing the moral consequences of accepting a hefty sum of money and potentially irritating its readers. To gauge the damage, they are taking a straw poll of readers before they act.

It's that kind of a magazine.

Zeisler says they've attracted readers from age 16 to 60.

"Younger and younger girls are identifying as feminist," says Jervis. "We want to be as wide open as possible; it needs to be as inclusive as possible. There's so much work to be done."

"The mainstream understanding of feminism is sort of about man-hating," says Zeisler.

But the movement, termed since the '90s as Third Wave feminism, is really about protecting and changing women's rights, including labor issues and reproductive rights, she says.

Julia Wood, distinguished professor of Interpersonal and Organizational Communication and a longtime fan of the magazine, says that "a distinct new wave of feminism has started."

The second wave, in the '70s, "far more benefited white, middle-class, heterosexual women than women of other races, ethnicities, classes and sexual preference," she says. This new, post-Third Wave group is formed by "incisive, smart, assertive women" who embrace their femininity and sexuality, and seek to forward the issues of feminism.

The magazine aims, in part, to make readers aware of "hidden" issues specific to women. A recent issue, for instance, includes a story on Spread, a new magazine devoted to issues of sex workers. The critique and interview are smart without being academic, open about such issues as stripper labor exploitation without being salacious.

It's a feminist issue -- fair labor laws -- about a career that is arguably nonfeminist. The issues are complex and draw varying feminist response.

"Feminists disagree all the time," Jervis says. "As long as you're not working against one another, the movement can accommodate a lot of disagreement."

The crowd at the Regulator on Saturday reflected the diversity of the larger movement.

Frank E. Baker Jr., 65 and a retired probation officer, came, he says, because "I have read [the] magazine. I liked the title of the thing. ... I wanted to come and see if I could come out alive."

Laura Jent, 28 and a women's rights activist, came because she loves the message of the magazine. "Feminism is not a bad word," she says. "It's a word for social change. ... If you're alive and you're a women and you feel like you should be treated equally, then you're a feminist."

Patryce Britton, 37, was introduced to the magazine with a copy and subscription -- from her husband.

"He's been a Bust reader. He hadn't found [the magazine] yet or he would've been a ... reader, too."

Britton, who describes herself as "a child of feminist parents," says she's hopeful about the mission of feminism, but certainly doesn't think it's finished. She says she likes the "idea of not losing hope in what seems like an unpleasant stem of messages in pop culture."

Carolyn Covalt, 38, an academic adviser at UNC and a six-year subscriber to the magazine, calls the magazine "balanced."

"I love that I can read [the magazine] and love Lifetime TV at the same time," she says. "It has everything I love, pop culture -- getting angry at it and wanting it to still be there."

"The face of feminism changes daily," Covalt says. "Every day, I keep asking myself and the world what to embrace, not embrace and have a sense of humor."