Photo Credit: Joe Raedle (Getty Images, 2023)

“We’re all under siege right now.”

—Past NWSA President Dr. Bonnie Thornton Dill, “BANNED” (2023)

I was overjoyed when I realized NWSA would be celebrating the 45th anniversary of our first conference during my first as President. While I’m not particularly romantic, I appreciate the ways anniversaries enable us to collectively, albeit distinctly, reflect on and honor our pasts, appreciate our present, and imagine our futures. Even before I was officially elected, I began reading or rereading conference programs in preparation for Detroit, starting with that first gathering at the University of Kansas in 1979. I was humbled and inspired when I saw Luvenia Pinson and Dr. Patricia Bell-Scott listed as members of the inaugural Coordinating Council. The Luvenia Pinson, who co-founded Salsa Soul Sisters (the oldest Black lesbian and lesbian of color womanist organization in the U.S.) under the leadership of Reverend Dolores Jackson and alongside Harriet Alston, Sonia Bailey, Candice Boyd, and Maua Flowers. The Dr. Bell-Scott, who taught us that “some of us are brave.” I was also elated to learn Ginger Chih was our conference photographer and that presenters included Dr. Raquel Rubio-Goldsmith, Dr. Patricia Fernandez-Kelly, and many others who were taking critical, interdisciplinary approaches to studying women, gender, and sexuality before I even made my way into the world. 

For more than 50 years, Women’s and Gender Studies and feminist artists, activists, and scholars have been at the forefront of examining the ways power is mediated by gender and sex, race and ethnicity, class, caste, nation and citizenship, age, and ability. For nearly 50 years, many of those intellectuals have been members of NWSA. We have recovered and commemorated women’s and nonbinary folks’s contributions to academia, law, medicine, sport, politics, and other fields. We have insisted on the importance of studying gender-based and sexual violence, disparities in healthcare, pay gaps, and other inequities. We declared “the personal is political.” We’ve taught the critical distinctions between gender and sex. We’ve studied the feminization of poverty. We’ve critiqued hierarchical binaries like man-woman and heterosexual-queer. We’ve learned how to necessarily differentiate between sexism and misogyny. We’ve studied rape culture. We’ve taught fat shaming. We’ve taught slut shaming. We coined intersectionality, the matrix of domination, and “white supremacist capitalist patriarchy.” 

Despite that, we have not been immune to internalizing and perpetuating some of the oppressive theories and politics we seek to study and address. We have been called to hold ourselves and each other accountable for subjugating women of color, LGBTQ folks, folks with disabilities, independent and contingent scholars, our elderly, college and university staff, undocumented folks, faculty without tenure, folks in poverty, and others vulnerable to subjugation and oppression within and outside the academy. Still, intellectuals in this field taught me the importance of ensuring our critiques are also directed inward. As past NWSA President Dr. Vivian M. May points out, our “focus on the intersections of knowledge and power” requires engaging “internal and external critiques of the field—its own gaps, errors, politics—and seeking to change it for the better.” Because of that, I am proud and honored to be part of this field and to serve as NWSA President, even though it has not been and probably never will be easy. 

We are facing pronounced legislative attacks on people and communities who are central to our work, exacerbating their vulnerabilities to systemic and systematic oppression. The U.S. Supreme court overturned Roe v. Wade; President Biden moved forward with the construction of 20 miles of border wall in the Rio Grande Valley; federal lawmakers and those in over 30 states have introduced more than 80 land ownership bills that fuel anti-Asian hate; 15 U.S. bills (nationally and across 41 states) that prevent trans* folks from accessing healthcare, education, legal recognition, and the right to exist have passed, and there are more than 400 active bills still being tracked; and the Supreme Court ruled race-based college admissions unconstitutional. Legislators are also vociferously targeting our field and our kin disciplines, including Black Studies, Latinx Studies, and Indigenous Studies. Two years ago, Ms. magazine partnered with NWSA to publish “Journey to Justice: A Critical Race Theory Primer” in response to attacks on Critical Race Theory; last May, Florida passed SB 266, prohibiting public universities from using state funds for any activities related to “diversity, equity, and inclusion” or “political or social activism”; and a few months later and despite our best collective efforts, New College of Florida eliminated its Gender Studies Program.

Those of us who live and work outside the South may presume we are immune to these kinds of attacks. Those of us who are employed at private colleges and universities may also presume immunity. If so, we are mistaken. In 2021, New Hampshire passed HB 544, which prohibits “the dissemination of certain divisive concepts related to sex and race.” Shortly after the Syracuse University’s Women’s and Gender Studies Department released a statement in solidarity with Palestine last October, a petition began circulating calling for Department Chair Dr. Himika Bhattacharya to be terminated. That same month, faculty in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies at Barnard College published a statement expressing solidarity with students and Palestinian people. Within hours and without contact or discussion with the Department, the Provost’s Office removed the statement, citing unspecified policy violations. Subsequently, the College revised policies regarding the maintenance of departmental websites, restricting faculty access. 

Not even two months ago, L. Song Richardson resigned from her position as President of Colorado College (where I work) due to her desire to “work as an academic with the freedom to fully engage in these debates, express [her] personal views, and challenge the status quo.” If that wasn’t demoralizing enough, students, staff, and faculty have since been subjected to ominous messaging from the administration regarding our critiques of Zionist colonization. Just three days after I published my first blog, “Palestine and the Black Radical Intellectual Tradition,” the Dean of Faculty emailed the faculty stressing the importance of academic freedom while simultaneously warning us against using our authority “to coerce others into accepting [our] conclusions.” We were also instructed to ensure our communications do not “discriminate against others or constitute harassment,” to “respect students and colleagues when they express alternative viewpoints,” and to clarify that we “are not speaking on behalf of the faculty or the College.” I fired off a brief but scathing email to the Dean, copying other members of the administration, including the President, and supportive colleagues. One of my biggest issues was the Dean’s egregious definition of protest. She “permitted” us to engage in protests and demonstrations as long as we do not “disrupt the operations of the college, endanger others, damage property, or engage in illegal activity.” 

What, however, is a protest if not an intentional disruption? Why is speaking out against war and Zionist colonization an occasion for disciplinary messaging? Why are we—the ones speaking out—being criminalized? Why are we the ones presumed to be unable to appropriately manage our authority? Why is our teaching situated as coercive? Why are we the ones being warned about discriminatory practices? Why are we the ones characterized as unable to engage with views different from our own? Who would ever think our views represent the views of most faculty or the College? Thankfully, I was not alone in outrage or resistance. As one of my faculty colleagues astutely asked, why are our areas of specialization and expertise characterized as a mere smattering of personal views? As another asked, have administrators forgotten that many of the college’s departments and programs, like Feminist & Gender Studies and Race, Ethnicity, & Migration Studies, wouldn’t exist without protest? As even more colleagues asked, how can the college ethically take these positions while requiring students to take General Education courses with the “Equity and Power” designation, especially since that designation would not be possible without those of us being demonized? How can the college take these positions as it boasts about the importance of courageous conversations and bold actions? How can the college take these positions while situating itself as anti-racist? How can the college take these positions and dare to celebrate Martin Luther King Day? If President Richardson, a woman of color with the highest title and largest salary, is apprehensive about taking public stances against injustice despite being a Critical Race Theory scholar, how do administrators think her resignation and their subsequent messaging will impact the rest of us, especially staff and our most vulnerable students? How can we be expected to enthusiastically work at a college where administrators seem completely ignorant about, indifferent to, or outright resistant to our work? 

This past Friday, I was supposed to be with Dr. Kristian Contreras, our Interim Executive Director, filming a new episode of Feminist Frequencies featuring Dr. Layli Maparyan and contributors to her forthcoming edited collection, Womanism Rising—me, Dr. Osizwe Raena Jamila Harwell, Dr. Sara Haq, and Dr. Susannah Bartlow. Instead, I joined my colleagues who spent nearly six hours serving as official advocates for more than ten students facing disruption and non-compliance conduct charges, as well as serving as informal supporters for other students subjected to secondhand fear and intimidation tactics. The catalyst for the charges? A peaceful, student-led protest in support of Palestine held in the campus library. When I texted Kristian, Layli, and Osizwe to apologize for missing such a groundbreaking moment and to let them know I’d finally made it home, I told them I was scared. I am. If the aforementioned communique and practices are any indication of Colorado College’s shifting values, my colleagues, students, and I, while certainly more privileged than others, are likely in for the educational and professional fight of our lives. 

Still, I remain fiercely up for the challenge. And it’s important to me that you know I’m as fierce as I am, in large part, because of you, this field, and our intellectual home—NWSA. I’m at my best when we’re resisting patriarchy, heterosexism, misogyny, transantagonism, racism, xenophobia, colonialism, and other forms of oppression together. I’m at my best when we’re honoring our elders, celebrating ourselves and our peers, and uplifting developing intellectuals together. I’m at my best when we’re holding ourselves and each other accountable together. I am because we are. To be sure, NWSA has not always lived up to its promise to you and the field as a whole. I won’t even attempt to promise I won’t fall short, because I will. What I can promise is the Governing Council and National Office will continue paying attention, listening, and ensuring members are seen, heard, and supported to the best of our ability. We will continue the kind of collaborative worldmaking that enables us to do our work without surveillance or the threat of punishment. We will continue collaborating with you to co-create the kind of NWSA we all deserve and that we need more now than ever.

Note: We hope you join us for our second conference plenary celebrating the 45th anniversary of our first conference, which will feature past NWSA President Dr. Yi-Chun Tricia Lin 林怡君; Dr. Maparyan, past Women of Color Caucus Co-Chair and Women of Color Leadership Project Coordinator; past NWSA President Dr. Premilla Nadasen; and Dr. Rubio-Goldsmith. We also hope you consider attending our Program Administration and Development (PAD) Pre-Conference and/or submitting proposals for our “State of the Field” sub-theme for additional opportunities to celebrate our courageous work and share strategies for resistance.