On Saturday, August 17, my family and I had the opportunity to attend a "meet and greet" sponsored by the Northwest Council of Covenant of the Goddess (COG). Members of various traditions, practitioners of different paths and founders of assorted groups were invited to share information and resources in a social setting. I had the pleasure of listening to an amazing group of people, including an elder who was the first high priestess of the Georgian Tradition, a man whose group tends a sacred grove, the founder of an international organization, a shaman who works alone for the most part and a woman who described herself as a "coven of one that is in the process of forming a new Wiccan church in the area." All of them were unique and interesting in their own way; sitting with them in a room, sharing a meal and informal discussion, it was easy to feel like you were getting to know the "real person" and what they think and feel, rather than what we read about in books and on the Internet. It was easy to realize how much we all have in common, rather than to dwell on differences.

But there are differences. The main one, which I have seen debated with increasing frequency over the last 10 years or so, is that of who is a "real witch." The debate always seems to boil down to a single argument. One side will say, "Only a witch can make a witch," and the other side counters with, "No person makes me anything." In other words, can a witch initiate herself or himself, or must a true witch be initiated by another?

In 1974, the Council of American Witches, comprised of 73 witches from different traditions, met in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and attempted to define the word "witch." The council created a statement that came to be known as "The Principles of Wiccan Belief." The following section from the introduction tells us quite a bit about where people were coming from at the time the document was drafted: "We are not bound by traditions from other times and other cultures, and owe no allegiance to any person or power greater than the Divinity manifest though our own being. As American witches, we welcome and respect all life-affirming teachings and traditions, and seek to learn from all and to share our learning within the council."

This was the prevailing attitude I remember from when I first entered the pagan scene in the 1980s. Perhaps I was naïve as to the underlying politics in the pagan community, or maybe the advent of the Internet and the proliferation of pagan material in mainstream bookstores have drastically changed things.

One thing is certain, the debate over who is or isn't a witch is impassioned and not likely to be resolved any time soon. Raven, a British traditional witch, is very definite in her assertion, "The power of the witch is physically passed down the lineage through a priest or priestess. If you're not properly initiated, you are a pagan, not a witch." She adds, "There is nothing wrong with being a pagan. People just shouldn't claim to be something they're not."

Laura, a Gardnerian priestess, has a different take on the situation, "Only a Gardnerian can make another Gardnerian. Not being initiated doesn't mean you're not a witch. It means you're not a witch in our tradition, that's all."

Mahlora, a local witch and co-founder of the Mahlorian Green Craft tradition, has a less exacting take on the situation: "I believe that only the Goddess can awaken the witch within. Whether that comes through another individual or directly to the person, it's all of equal validity. It is about whatever works for the person, who chooses their own path."

Karen, a solitary witch working on her master degree in sociology, feels that the reason for the dispute over who is and is not a witch has to deal with acceptance. "In the 1970s, witches felt the need to band together to protect themselves from a society that was threat-ened by a religion they associated with devil worship. Banding together was the only way to do that; we shared information freely, and the traditions weren't so steeped in secrecy, at least among other witches, as they are now."

By the early 1990s, books and the Internet brought Wicca and witchcraft into mainstream venues, and in some cases into acceptance. "When witches no longer felt that they had a common enemy that was a significant threat," Karen says, "they didn't feel the need to band together." She explains, "When groups don't need one another, it becomes easy to see each other as opposition. Human nature is such that religious groups, even those founded on the same basic principle, will eventually splinter off and fight amongst themselves."

Many witches prefer to stay out of pagan politics and practice as solitaries. Anna, a solitary witch for more than 20 years, feels that she is emulating the "village witch of a time gone by." She tells me, "The sage or wise woman of the clan had the herbal, healing and divination skills. He or she often lived on the outskirts of the village and served as midwife, healer and counselor to her clan. I like that idea." She feels that most witches didn't practice in covens until Gerald Gardner introduced Wicca to the United States in the 1950s. "I have a vision of families and clans living in harmony with the land, and gathering for celebrations of the season without thinking twice about what to call what they did."

To Anna and other solitaries, being a witch is about day-to-day living and reverence for the earth. Rowan, who identifies herself as a "kitchen witch," considers magick a way of life. "Why on earth would I need a tradition or a name for what I do? It's what I am and what my grandmothers were before me."

Marc, a solitary for 12 years, echoed that sentiment. "I actually had a woman tell me, `A witch cannot be a witch alone.' I started to laugh until I realized that she was serious. How can someone else dictate my relationship to the gods? If I wanted a Pope, I wouldn't be pagan."

Fueling the fires of controversy is the proliferation of books, Web sites and cyber covens. "It's outrageous that any fluffy bunny can read a book or visit a Web site and call themselves a high priestess. It's insulting to those of us who have done the work." says Marah, a third-degree Gardnerian.

She is not alone in her frustration over some "self-proclaimed" witches. Emrys, a British traditional priest, lamented, "These self-taught people are impossible to teach once they stumble upon a coven. They think all they have to do is say the words `I'm a witch' three times, and that's all there is to it."

Not all British traditional Wiccans hold this opinion. Gardnerian Laura says, "Our traditions honor our lineage, our ancestors who paved the way before us. We have recreated, as best we can, what was lost and want to pass it down to our descendants intact. That is why we hold certain things to be oathbound and are selective as to whom we pass our traditions."

Not all solitaries or self-initiates are solitary by choice. For many, finding a tradition that fits is not an easy task. Trina, who has been studying witchcraft and paganism for six years, says, "I've tried and tired, but I can't find a tradition that I like." Her partner David, who has been studying for more than 12 years, agrees: "It's like trying to fit into a Christian church. I can't take an oath to something I don't fully believe in."

Others, like Mahlora, studied for decades and still found "there wasn't anything that suited me; everything that I had researched or studied, I found too limiting." Mahlora and her partner recently introduced their tradition, which they had been working on for over 10 years. When asked why she chose to share her work, she explained, "I had a definite calling to share my heartfelt knowledge, and the only way to do that was by formalizing and publicizing my tradition. We never set out to create a tradition. It created itself." But what is different about her tradition? "I don't know that this tradition is so much different as it is all-encompassing. It recognizes the wealth of power within each individual."

"There are two opposing trends in pagan religion today," explains Karen, who sees the forming of new traditions as a trend. "On one hand, we have the traditionalists who feel they must protect their teachings and lines so that they don't become diluted or lost. On the other hand, we have people who sought out pagan religion to avoid being told what to believe or how to worship.

"What we are witnessing is a revival of sorts," she says. "The pagan revolution hit the scene full force in the 1970s, when many of the traditions we now consider old were formed. What we are witnessing now is a second revolution. A new generation of pagans is doing the exact same thing their elders did over 20 years ago, recreating tradition that fits their needs and the time in which we live."

One thing is certain: The pagan community is growing and evolving. Growth creates diversity, and diversity often leads to misunderstanding. We are human, after all, and if we take a look back at history, we will see that religion has constantly evolved, assimilated and changed over time. There has always been, and likely will always be, controversy as this process continues.

My mind wanders back to that night at the Queen Anne Masonic Temple after the meet and greet. Several of us, all of very different backgrounds, sat giggling and telling stories in the kitchen after dinner, while the COG folks good-naturedly tried to clean the kitchen around us. As I looked around at the others in the kitchen, I couldn't remember who was Georgian, Kingstone, eclectic, solitary or shamanic, and it really didn't matter. At that moment in time, we weren't divided by traditions, initiations or who we worked with. We were a group of friends, some old and some new, drawn together by a common thread and a desire to build community. Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I could see ancestors, guides and the fey smiling and nodding their approval. Which witch is which? Who cares? Pass that ice-cream carton, please.