Participants in a Feminist Bird Club meetup call out a bird they spotted. Photo by Gabriella Gladney
Participants in a Feminist Bird Club meetup call out a bird they spotted. Photo by Gabriella Gladney

Late on a warm May afternoon, a group huddled together at the entrance of Montrose Point Bird Sanctuary, many with binoculars hanging around their necks, eager to spot a new winged friend.

Birders look toward the sky at a Feminist Bird Club meetup in May 2025. Photo by Gabriella Gladney.RAF
Birders look toward the sky at a Feminist Bird Club meetup in May 2025. Photo by Gabriella Gladney.RAF

The crowd was there for the Chicago Chapter of Feminist Bird Club’s “An Evening with the Piping Plovers.” And the group was notably diverse—mostly women and non-binary folks, a few men and even a couple of kids filled out the crowd. No one looked much older than 35, and many were sporting a sort-of unspoken uniform: cool, colorful trousers and trendy haircuts, bags and backpacks plastered with stickers advocating for various causes. 

Before the group set off, an organizer made an announcement: they were collecting donations to support children affected by Israel’s actions in Gaza. Then came introductions: names, pronouns and how long each person had been birding. Almost every single participant was new to the scene

Birding affinity groups like Feminist Bird Club and Chicago BIPOC Birders are reshaping the landscape of who gets to bird in Chicago, and how. Once seen as a pastime of khaki-clad retirees with expensive scopes, birdwatching has become, somehow, cool. And thanks to shows like Netflix’s The Residence and Disney+’s Extraordinary Birder, birders of color have finally entered the cultural zeitgeist in a major way. In Chicago, birding is not just gaining popularity, it’s also increasingly political. These groups are making space for people historically excluded from outdoor recreation, and they’re asking their members to engage their passion with purpose.

Finding a new flock

Bird walks are the core activity for both groups. At least one person guides a relaxed stroll through a local park or nature area, pointing out birds along the way. They try to avoid any hints of hierarchy, so anyone can call out birds as they see fit. No equipment? No problem. Binoculars are often provided. Walks like the one at Montrose are beginner-friendly by design, so there’s no gatekeeping or intimidation—just bring yourself and keep your eyes open. 

“I think what stood out to me when I first joined, and what’s kept me involved, is the accessibility,” said Zelle, 30, a lead organizer of FBC Chicago. “Also, we’re here to bird, but also we’re gonna talk about other things. I have conversations about tattoos or community events, sharing other resources.”

Many members of BIPOC Birders Chicago got their start through walks hosted by the Chicago Bird Alliance (formerly the Chicago Audubon Society). That’s how Tarik Shahzad, 27, began. Last year, he completed a “Big Year”—an ambitious challenge to spot as many unique bird species in one geographical area as possible in a single year—and broke the local record in the process.

“I really got hooked into birding and seeing all these different migratory species that we didn’t know existed in all these places,” Shahzad said. “I couldn’t have broken the record without other people also finding rare birds, as well as like them, teaching me like their decades of experience and being an inclusive community, as well.”

Participants in local birding affinity groups often build camradere around social justice causes. Photo by Grabriella Gladney
Participants in local birding affinity groups often build camradere around social justice causes. Photo by Grabriella Gladney

For Daniela Herrera, 30, one of the lead organizers of Chicago BIPOC Birders, those CBA walks were a helpful introduction. But something about the dynamic didn’t feel right. No one was rude or excluded her. Still, she didn’t quite feel like she belonged.

“They were very sweet people, but it was hard to feel super connected to them. They were older, white ladies, who were super sweet. I learned a lot. But I want to spend time with people that I can talk about things that we understand. Like culture and food and family and all sorts of things,” Herrera said. 

While birding still holds an “old-person” reputation, interest is surging among younger folks. According to the National Survey of Fishing, Hunting, and Wildlife-Associated Recreation, there were 4.7 million 16–24-year-old birders in 2016, and 10.8 million in 2022. The pandemic is theorized to have caused the surge of interest in the outdoors, as many youth were trying to find new things to do outside of quarantine. And thanks to the invention of apps like Merlin Bird ID and EBird, birding can be as casual or as serious as you want it to be. 

“They used to use hotlines and pay phones as a way to call up people and say, ‘I found a rare bird.’ But now we have cell phones and any moment you can text someone, say you saw this bird and take a photo with your cell phone. And we have these messaging apps, like GroupMe or discord, or even Facebook, for people to communicate in real time where birds are,” said Shahzad.

Daniela wanted to build a space where other young people of color who may be new to birding could show up and feel at ease, no technology necessary. That desire led to the founding of BIPOC Birders Chicago in 2021.The group is non-hierarchical, welcoming and proudly amateur.

“I personally feel like being able to call out birds is less important than being able to create a welcoming space. So, I feel like you have to be someone who wants to talk to people, wants to get to know people and encourages learning,” Herrera said. “I think sometimes birding can feel kind of competitive, and so saying that you don’t know everything, and we’re still learning together, and we can look at any bird that anyone has interest in and help identify it together—I think that’s what’s really important.”

The Feminist Bird Club shares a similar philosophy. The Chicago chapter was founded in 2018 as a branch of Molly Adam’s national organization. The group shares the same commitment to accessibility and equity. Zelle became involved after moving to Chicago from Texas post-pandemic.

“We always do a circle at the beginning to do introductions, and folks can share, like, their name and their pronouns. Which I think has become something that other birding groups are starting to do. But we’ve done that from the beginning, which I’ve been really grateful for as someone who has changed the name I go by and the pronouns I use. I can just show up and say it, and it’s not a big deal or anything,” Zelle said. 

Events like “Evening with the Piping Plovers” often fill up quickly, despite being free. Tickets listed on Eventbrite are usually gone within hours. The demand speaks to the hunger for this kind of community, birdwatchers said


Participants in a Feminist Bird Club meetup in May 2025. Photo by Gabriella Gladney
Participants in a Feminist Bird Club meetup in May 2025. Photo by Gabriella Gladney

Bigger than birds

Both groups are deeply engaged in bird-centered advocacy—lobbying for protections of endangered species like the piping plovers and pushing for bird-safe building legislation in Chicago. But their politics go even further. When Israel’s actions in Gaza escalated, BIPOC Birders issued a solidarity statement and called for a ceasefire. FBC walks often open with donation requests for causes like abortion access, mutual aid and refugee support. To an outsider, those causes might seem unrelated. But to members, it’s all connected.

“I think a lot of the reasons why we have not been able to participate in nature activities is because we’ve been kicked out and off our lands. So it’s only natural for us to stand in solidarity with oppressed people all over the world, because to me, it’s inextricable. You can’t unlink access to nature and birding and reproductive rights and immigration rights and Palestine and land that is being actively destroyed, and the people and the history and the culture that is being actively destroyed. To me, you just can’t separate the two,” Herrera said. 

In regards to environmental activism, Shahzad put it simply: “I live by that motto that the more you fall in love with nature and with birds, the more you want to protect them.”

With a second Trump administration underway and climate threats growing more urgent, members of both groups are thinking about what’s next. They hope to see Chicago’s birding scene continue to grow, and shift.

“I want more young people to get into birding, more people of color to get into birding. I want places that are under-birded in Chicago to get more love,” Shahzad said. “And that means connecting with more folks from those communities. Because I think the only way we’re gonna meaningfully  protect habitat and fight climate change and do any of this is with a diverse coalition of folks. We need, like, a 21st century inclusive, like, truly holistic approach to fighting for nature and fighting for birds.” 

A birder searches for a piping plover at Montrose Beach. Photo by Gabriella Gladney
A birder searches for a piping plover at Montrose Beach. Photo by Gabriella Gladney