Blogs

by President Heidi R. Lewis
November 3, 2025

I write this very last blog from Colorado Springs, CO. Stolen land—the unceded territory of the Ute Peoples, to be precise—developed with stolen and exploited labor. I do so, because as Sandra Guzmán points out, land acknowledgements “recognize and respect Indigenous peoples as the traditional stewards of their lands and the enduring relationship that exists between Indigenous peoples and their traditional territories.”

“If your house ain’t in order, you ain’t in order. It is so much easier to be out there than in here.”
―Toni Cade Bambara, The Black Woman: An Anthology (1970)

 “She would not break her discipline to comfort herself in a shallow way. Would no more break discipline with her Self than she would her covenant with God.”
―Toni Cade Bambara, The Salt Eaters (1980)

I can’t honestly say I never dreamed of being President of the National Women’s Studies Association (NWSA) when I was what the streets would call “a puppy.”

Well, that may not be exactly true. It might have been that I dreamed of being your President, but I’ve also been a member of the American Studies Association, the National Council of Black Studies, and other interdisciplinary organizations since I began pursuing my doctorate. So, it honestly could have been any one of those. In any case, I have long-aspired to give back to, strengthen, and eventually lead many of the professional spaces I’ve entered, guided by the wisdom of my ancestors and elders, as well as the camaraderie of my peers and the responsibility I proudly take for my young bucks.

Now, here I am; or, rather, there I was.

As I’ve written and said what feels like ad nauseum, I joined NWSA when I was selected to participate in the Women of Color Leadership Project (WoCLP) as a second-year Ph.D. student almost 20 years ago. I don’t remember much about that weekend except that it was, I believe, the last time the conference was held in the summer, and it was at the University of Cincinnati. So, I was glad to be back home in the Buckeye State, only a short, three-hour drive from Purdue, and to have folks there I could stay with. I also remember presenting first thing in the morning (on Sunday, if I'm not mistaken) to an audience of, maybe, 3 people and being glad about that, because I was way insecure about my work. Later, I learned Toni King facilitated WoCLP that year, and fifteen years later, she wrote a letter supporting my promotion to Full Professor. I won’t act like I knew this all the way back in 2008, but NWSA was slowly but surely becoming one of my most critical academic homes—one that would educate, frustrate, motivate, and enrage me, one that would always nurture me during every phase of my career.

I started attending the annual conference regularly. In 2014, I was selected to attend the Curriculum Institute, also in Cincinnati. I served as Founding Chair of the Feminist Media Studies Interest Group from 2015-18. I also regularly attended the directors and chairs meeting even before becoming Director of Feminist & Gender Studies at Colorado College in 2016. Because of that, I communicated every so often with Allison Kimmich, the Association’s Executive Director back then, and I communicated pretty regularly with Patti Provance, the former Deputy Director. But I don’t remember ever communicating with the Governing Council.

So, before serving a one-year replacement term as Secretary from 2021-22, I didn’t exactly know what I was getting myself into. I had respect for the Board, but I didn’t exactly know what they did. To be honest, I rarely even knew who they were other than the President. I wasn’t a Membership Assembly girlie, and no shade, but I didn’t really spend my NWSA time trying to get next to the “Who’s Who” of the field or the Association. Other than attending panels during which they might have been presenting, I would only briefly introduce myself and thank them for their work. And to be even more honest, I rarely even did that. I can only remember doing it twice, and the first one don’t really count. During our last conference in Denver, I accidentally bumped into Angela Y. Davis and knocked what seemed like all her shit out her hands. I apologized, thanked her for her work, told her it was an honor to meet her, and kept it pushin’—albeit shakin’ like a leaf from embarrassment but also gratitude. Then, during our last conference in Cincinnati, I approached Layli Maparyan to say “hi” and give thanks. In Detroit last year, I reminded her of that during our plenary celebrating 45 years of the conference. She remembered, and my heart swelled.

Speaking of Detroit, I have a funny “aside.” When I said “hi” to Chandra Talpade Mohanty, she told me it was nice to meet me and asked why we hadn’t met before. I basically told her what I just told you—that it was probably because I’d spent most of my conference time attending presentations and hanging out with friends. To that, she said something like, “That’s probably the best thing you ever did.” Mmmhmm. I hope you know I know it. Haha.

To be clear, I don’t have a problem with networking. I don’t even have a problem with taking pictures with folks one respects and admires, even if we don’t know them well. In fact, I asked to take one with Dr. Maparyan all those years ago, I was honored when she agreed, and I cherish that picture to this day. I do, however, have a big problem with clout chasin’. That just ain’t my motion, and like Dr. Mohanty, I think that’s one reason I’ve been able to serve as President in the ways I have. A major one.

But anyway. I didn’t know much, if anything at all, about the goings on of the Governing Council. Still, I was certain their work was hard and important. I trusted they were bringing a lot of knowledge and experience to the table, I trusted they understood their roles and responsibilities, and I trusted they took that very seriously. Then, Venetria K. Patton, my dissertation Chair, academic advisor, and now friend, asked if she could nominate me for Secretary. I agreed, ran, won, paid attention, and learned enough to believe I could be a strong President.

Now, here I am; or, rather, there I was.

It wasn’t easy, of course. Sometimes, it was much harder than I thought it would be. Hell, sometimes, it was much harder than it should have been. For about a month this past spring, I even hollered, threw up both my hands, and walked away, wondering why I ever volunteered to do something that often felt so damn thankless. Then, after receiving a lot of support and encouragement from family, friends, and members of the Governing Council and National Office, I came back more determined than before. I came back determined to continue giving back to an organization that has given and continues to give so much to me, an organization full of brilliant, powerful, dynamic, and beautiful intellectuals who have given me so much patience, guidance…love. I came back determined to finish strong. And I ain’t even gon’ lie. I came back determined to be remembered.

And with that, I decided to do some remembering of my own by looking back at the candidate statement I submitted when I accepted my nomination and ran for office:

As a trusted, boundary-spanning thought partner committed to collaborative and transformative leadership, I am well-positioned to be your next President.

I look forward to relying on my expansive professional relationships and partnerships in support of NWSA’s commitments to transformative teaching, learning, research, and service within and outside the academy.

I am committed to centering communities that have been systematically and systemically subjugated and oppressed, ensuring they are deeply engaged and encouraged, not merely seen rather than heard and felt.

As a leader, I aim to amplify the knowledge and experiences of my collaborators, as well as my own, in service to transformational work guided by a collaboratively defined mission that communicates who we are and a vision for who we aim to be.

My commitment to catalyzing change is grounded in understanding the past and present as much as it is focused on visualizing the future.

While I was re-reading, I kept asking myself, “Is that who you were? Is that still who you are? Is that still what and how you do?” I most certainly popped my collar and told myself “hell yes” more than a few times. I thought about the strategic plan, the membership engagement initiatives, both CFPs, both statements, Detroit, all the President's blogs, the new Proposal Review Committee structure, the major bylaws revisions, the Governing Council community space, everything I contributed to the new website, the two reports published during my term, the new Governing Council annual reporting structure, all the dope infographics, the Colorado College summer fellows, and the list, fa sho, goes on…at least a li’l bit.

But you know what I also kept thinking about? My team. Our team. The Governing Council and National Office. I hope y’all know you’ve been my most critical thought partners during this entire presidency. Even when our thoughts collided in ways I could not understand (and maybe still don’t and never will), mine could not have possibly flowered how they did without yours. I could not have done all this alone, and I didn’t. We might not always have lived up to each other’s expectations. We might have pissed each other off. We might have done some things we regret. But we stuck together, kept it pushin’, and fought as hard as we could to do what we came to do, to fulfill our promise to the field, the Association, each other, and ourselves. We earned back so much trust that had been understandably lost. We spanned boundaries, intersectionally and transnationally, making sure our communities were seen and heard to every possible extent. We worked together to catalyze necessary change, to transform the Association, the field. And for that, I will be eternally grateful. I love y’all. I’m proud of us. And I’m so excited about and honored to be part of what you do next, as immediate past President and for as long as there is to be an after.

I also kept thinking about you, our members and partners, old and new, who have taught me so much about yourselves, the field, the Association, and even myself. Even though I got what the streets call “buck” way more than I wanted to (or should’ve “had” to), more often than not, it was all love. Even when you got critical, supremely critical, it was patience, support, encouragement. More often than not, it was, “I love your president’s blogs!” You’re welcome…I see you. “Thank you for my travel grant!” We’re so glad we can help you get to the conference and only wish we could do more. “I can’t wait for the next Care Community event!” Dom was twirlin’ that hula hoop, wasn’t she, honey? “Thank you so much for the statement!” You’re welcome…we worked really hard on it and hope it’ll help you fight the good fight. “I really appreciated the range of plenaries and presidential sessions this year!” I’m so glad…I see us. “What up, doe? Thank you for making sure Detroit was in the house!” Thank you for having us…it’s been a pleasure and an honor. “Thank you for that last episode of Feminist Frequencies!” I’m so glad you watched and learned a li’l somethin’ from the data. I don’t know all of you, but I really do love all y’all. I hope you’ve seen and felt that, and I hope you continue to see and feel it even after my term officially ends in about two short weeks.

I did things during the past two-plus years. A lot of things. Some of it worked. Some of it didn’t. But overall, I believe we're better for it now and will continue to be in the long run. But in all honesty, I don’t really get to decide. You do.

So…how’d I do?