Featured Scholar – Jamila Michener, Ph. D.

Jamila Michener is an Assistant professor in the department of Government at Cornell University. Her research focuses on poverty and racial inequality in American politics. More specifically, her work explores two overarching themes: the conditions under which economically and racially disadvantaged groups engage in the political process, and the role of the state in shaping the political and economic trajectories of marginalized communities. Centering on these concerns, her research has been supported by the Ford Foundation, the National Science Foundation and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation.

  

What was the initial spark that made your write Fragmented Democracy: Medicaid, Federalism and Political Inequality (forthcoming, Cambridge University Press)?

 

Initially, I did not know much about Medicaid. But a few things fortuitously converged during the tail end of graduate school to spark my interest. First, I had great advisors who encouraged me to remain open to pursuing leads that emerged during my dissertation research. So, when the people I was interviewing for my dissertation mentioned Medicaid without prompting from me, I took notice. I ended up including one chapter about Medicaid in my dissertation and I wanted to do more. But I recognized that my limited knowledge of the program would prevent me from studying it more thoroughly, so I resigned to putting off further research until I was better equipped. Luckily, I had the chance to make that happen when I did a health policy post doc with the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. The post doc gave me the time to invest in a realm that I knew little about and the resources to begin interviewing Medicaid beneficiaries across the country about their experiences. My ideas were quite nascent, but the book began to take shape during the post doc and slowly developed from there.

 

As a Black woman researching and writing on disadvantaged groups does your identity inform how you present and talk about your work? 

 

Absolutely. To begin with, I would not study what I study were it not for my own experiences growing up in low-income neighborhoods in Brooklyn and Queens (NYC) as the child of working class Afro-Caribbean immigrants. Some of my most formative political moments involved personal encounters with racial discrimination, poverty and inequality. Those experiences left an indelible mark and fueled an enduring interest in understanding how marginalized groups can exercise power in the context of formidable systemic constraints. Honestly, I have been passionate about such issues since childhood. I brought that passion into my undergraduate education and it is (in part) what motivated me to pursue a PhD. In graduate school, I was fortunate to have the support and example of Cathy Cohen, one of the most inspiring women in academia. Cathy pushed me to think broadly and theoretically and to embrace multiple methodological approaches. Perhaps most valuably, she inspired me to hold on to the deeper commitments that led me to graduate school in the first place. Now, as an assistant professor, I continue to do just that. Everything from the research questions I select, to the theoretical lenses I bring to bear on those inquiries is compelled by my resolve to center the political lives and concerns of economically and racially disadvantaged denizens. The issues and people I study matter deeply to me. They reflect the lives, concerns and experiences of my friends and family, the people I grew up with and the folks who live in communities like those that I lived in for much of my life. This is why I often frame my work in terms of what is at stake for real people’s lives—that’s what makes me tick.

You’ve been very active on social media – which you have used as a platform to discuss issues of concern to faculty, people of color in the discipline of political science, and minority women – how has new technologies proved useful in expanding the “ivy tower”, exposing implicit bias, and expanding who gets included in the conversation?

 

This is a great question, but a tough one. I was reluctant to delve into the world of Twitter for quite some time. I started an account and barely touched it for over a year. I was intimidated, skeptical, scared and everything else that most people probably feel. Ultimately, I decided to enter the fray out of a desire to reach a wider audience, to expand my sphere of influence, to learn from others and to connect with communities beyond those that are immediately proximate to me. All of this has happened. In fact, I have been pleasantly surprised by how many people have been brought into my orbit because of Twitter and how much I have learned from engaging on that platform. Social media and the new technology that has enabled it is no panacea, it comes with a host of serious limits and problems. But my own experience leads me to believe that it also presents important opportunities to have conversations, forge connections and amplify voices that would not be included in national conversations otherwise. Twitter is also useful in helping me hone my craft as an academic. I have learned a ton by observing how scholars translate their work into terms that are legible on a platform that restricts you to 140 characters. Such translation is not always successful (or even beneficial) but it is important nonetheless. Pushing myself to tweet about my research and connect it to ongoing policy discussions has been generative and productive as far as my scholarly development is concerned.

 

What projects are you working on next?  

 

A bunch of stuff! Fun stuff too (if you are a nerd like I am). One of my smaller scale projects includes research on the political determinants of racial poverty disparities in the American states. A medium sized project (that I am working on with Jake Haselswerdt from the University of Missouri) involves a study of the effects of instituting “personal responsibility” requirements as a condition of Medicaid enrollment. Looming most largely is my next book project, which I am very excited about. This work will examine the political causes and consequences of civil legal representation (or lack thereof) in the United States. Women, especially women of color, are disproportionately reliant on civil law to protect themselves from things like illegal evictions, domestic violence, illegitimate withholding of public assistance benefits, unscrupulous lenders and so much more. Civil law shapes domains that are crucial to economic stability and equality. Civil legal representation is thus an important marker of political status and a potentially powerful purveyor of inequality (economic and political). Political scientists have devoted limited attention to this topic. My next book will do just that. With the Legal Services Corporation on the chopping block as per the latest federal budget proposal, this topic is more important than ever. I should note—going back to a question you asked earlier—that I first became aware of the importance of legal services when I did an internship (in my home town of NYC) at Queens Legal Services during the summer after my junior year in college. That internship brought me into contact with many people from my own community who had deep needs. Legal representation could not meet the most profound of those needs, but it curbed the excesses of inequality and injustice that low-income people of color in NYC experienced daily. And it was literally a lifesaver at times. I never forgot that. Now I get to study it. I am happy to have that chance.

Critical Reflections on Being a Visible Minority in Political Science: A Conversation with Wendy Wong

As a woman of color who studies Black women in politics, I think deeply about the impact of one’s identity on her political behavior and how she is perceived in the world. My research interests often lead me to engage in advocacy work on behalf women of color – inside the academy and within the larger political discourse. Because this is my area of study and life’s work, I often take for granted the salient role of identity politics in everyday life for women of color. Fortunately, my interactions with Wendy H. Wong – Associate Professor of Political Science and Director of the Trudeau Center for Peace Conflict, and Justice at the University of Toronto – opened my eyes to how other scholars may view the impact of identity on their research and their life in the academy.

In April of 2016, Professor Wong (along with co-author Professor Sarah Stroup) had a featured in PSNow, which highlighted a recent article on authority in global politics and international nongovernmental organizations. APSA posted a stock photo of random Asian woman in place of a picture of Professor Wong. In response, Wendy Wong contacted APSA and the post was deleted. Of course, the post went viral. This incident coincided with annual meeting of the Midwest Political Science Association. The topic of conversation at the bars in the Palmer House that evening was of the photo of a random Asian woman that ASPA tweeted instead of Wendy Wong. Thankfully, Professor Wong posted her thoughts on Duck of Minerva to express her frustration with the APSA and why merely deleting the tweet was insufficient. Professor Wong’s articulation of the simultaneous invisibility and hypervisibility of women of color in our profession spoke volumes to why the discipline of political science must continue to study this population, document our experiences, and respect our narratives.

How can our discipline and its identity-based auxiliaries do more to support women of color? Currently, the majority of the members of the Women’s Caucus for Political Science (WCPS) and the Committee on the Status of Women in the Profession are gender and politics scholars. These organizations are open to women of all subfields – particularly those, like Professor Wendy Wong, whose primary research interests are not gender. Our caucuses, status committees, and other identity-based groups are preaching to the converted. I wonder how the WCPS and CSWP can do more to reach out members of our discipline who aren’t predisposed to think about issues of race/gender.

Perhaps this column is a starting point? My work with Women Also Know Stuff has helped me to see that our discipline is filled with scholars who commit acts of implicit bias against women (and people of color – and particularly, women of color). It is my sincere hope that this column will help to ameliorate the biases that women of color political scientists endure. By highlighting the experiences – and most notably, the deep thoughts of and response by Professor Wendy Wong – this article seeks to move one step closer to presenting a holistic picture of women of color in our discipline. This interview contains Professor Wong’s reflection on the PSNow picture debacle as well as her recommendations for challenging biases faced by visible minorities in our field. Professor Wong’s narrative is instructive. She is in the process of turning lemons into lemonade.

What are your current research projects?

Generally, I’m interested in questions of non-state governance and the role of international nongovernmental organizations (INGOs) in particular. I’ve got two big projects underway, first and foremost a book manuscript with Sarah Stroup that is under contract. The book is called The Authority Trap. The punchline of the book is that having more authority does not actually give INGOs more choices. In fact, we argue that having more authority constrains the types of choices that INGOs make, pushing them to moderate their demands. The book has some synergies with other research on power and authority in International Relations, including work on hegemony, so we think it has implications beyond INGOs as specific actors. We’ve also got some articles that will come out of the data that we collected for the book.

My colleague Ron Levi and I have been working on a project on the Ford Foundation and its influence on the development of human rights since the 1950s. Broadly speaking, we’re interested in how Ford shaped the trajectory of the international human rights movement from very early on, and we want to know how its vision of human rights moved throughout the INGO sector. To measure the movement of ideas Ford has about human rights, we’re currently tracking 1) the distribution of funds from 1953 to 2013, and 2) the movement of people into, within, and out of the Ford Foundation. We’re presenting some of the preliminary findings this summer, with the hope of publishing a series of articles in the coming years.

Explain how you became interested in questions around diversity and inclusion in the profession

This one is tough – I’m not sure I consciously thought about this in a sustained manner until the last year or so. This is partly from choice, and partly institutional.

I think early on in graduate school, I chose to move away from questions of ethnicity in particular. I had applied to several programs with the intent of researching ethnic conflict, but quickly switched out of that for many reasons. One of the main reasons was that it felt very personal because I was a racialized person in a largely-white subfield, and I didn’t think I could maintain the appropriate distance from the work. But also, I had a number of situations, so to speak, in graduate school that made me think that getting involved in diversity issues was a losing game, and I didn’t want to make waves. That leads me to my next point.

Institutionally, as a junior faculty person, you’re taught to keep your eye on the prize of tenure, and so you work towards that goal. I worked towards that goal with a singular focus that sometimes surprises me now. My clock at U of T was particularly short at the time, by North American standards, so I did the best I could to dot the I’s and cross the T’s. As a researcher of non-state actors, diversity and inclusion to me were questions of why and how we could remedy the glaring imbalance of Western/Northern INGOs working on issues in the Global South, and rarely the other way around. So my main thoughts around diversity and inclusion were very much work-focused for a long time. My main goal early on was to get published and get tenure. I think now, with some distance from that process, I’m less blind to some of the things that may have given me pause, but I would have never thought to pursue publicly, or even socially, before.

Certainly, it’s also a good time to be attuned to these issues, especially along the lines of gender, but also, as I am happy to know, along race and other visible minority markers.

What ways has being a woman of color shaped how you engage with the profession and how you are read in professional spaces?

As a caveat…Although I am a woman of color, I prefer the term “visible minority” because it captures what I think is the fundamental concern. My minority status and my femininity are visible markers in ways that perhaps other markers might not be. And there are other types of race or ethnicity-based markers that are not as well-captured with the term “color” as “visible minority.”

I was talking to someone about how being a visible minority woman shapes my view of the profession, and I think that it is a struggle once you see how easily those qualities about you – that may have no bearing on your research – become magnified. Once you turn on the antenna, you can’t turn it off.

This really cuts against the kind of thing academics value: our ideas, our arguments, our methods, and our evidence. Over the years, you develop defenses and coping mechanisms to challenges to your research, and you can make changes in response to peoples’ critiques. But how do you respond when you feel that you are being treated differently in a professional context that doesn’t have to do with your research? Am I not being invited to that workshop because they don’t take me seriously as a visible minority woman? Did I just get asked to be on this panel because I check two boxes for a diversity quota?

And then sometimes people tell you very directly that you somehow help them satisfy one diversity criterion or another, and that reifies the concern you had to begin with. That’s a real challenge.

What advice would you give to others who faced similar challenges in our discipline? 

Realize that you’re not alone – because of the way the academy works, you can exist in a pocket where it feels like you might be alone. But realize you’re not. One of the most amazing things about this particular period we’re in is that a lot of the hard work of engaging women and visible minorities has started bearing fruit, and you can see it in the conference attendees at the major meetings. There is official recognition of the problem of having too few women, and too few visible minority women in the discipline (e.g. APSA’s Committee for the Status of Women in the Profession’s 2016 report “Pipeline to Tenure,” work by Sara Mitchell and Barbara Walter and their collaborators, a recent FP blog about women and tenure, this blog), which is a crucial step. We are all part of the process, whether passively or actively.

Seek out friends – they can be anybody you feel comfortable talking to about challenges. One thing I noted when I was thinking this through recently was the paucity of senior visible minority women in IR. And I only started thinking about this because I had some problematic experiences, and wanted to see if I could seek some advice for promotion and future career plans. For a moment, I felt very isolated. But I’ve since spoken to many trusted men and women about what I’ve experienced, and truthfully, what helps is having someone listen and help you sift through what you’re struggling with — not necessarily having someone who is in “your group” who has had exactly the same frustrating experience(s).

Do what you’re comfortable with – the academy is a privileged place – we have flexible hours, we do what we want intellectually, and we get to interact with students who constantly expose us to new ideas and perspectives. There’s no need, unless you feel comfortable with it, to “do” anything. There are problematic practices and beliefs in society at large that are reflected within the academy, and sometimes we as individuals get to experience those problematic things firsthand. But if you feel vulnerable or unsure about bringing issues forward beyond a close circle, don’t. On the other hand, if you are comfortable with the attention, and indeed, feel that you must speak out, you should. Help bring attention to the problems of living and working even within our privileged place, because your voice matters.

What are the challenges/benefits to being a visible minority and a “model minority”? What lessons have you learned?

One thing that happens is that you’re expected to champion a certain perspective, or even a collective perspective. So I have been pretty cautious about saying anything about my experiences in a public context, in part because I don’t want to speak over anyone, or claim that my experiences somehow represent the “women of visible minority status experience.” I don’t think I was ready to speak out regarding these issues until APSA’s recent posts regarding my work with Sarah, and even then, I struggled with how to write about what I felt.

As someone who has for the most part shied away from tying my visible minority-ness, and my female-ness to my work, one of the most difficult realizations is that my efforts may not matter in a larger context. What I mean by this is that I don’t tend to work on topics that are solely gendered or racialized. I think this is what really struck home with the APSA posts – that folks would tie me (and my work) to a random, generic representation of my race and gender – that was both strange and illuminating. Being visible means that you can’t get away. That’s not necessarily negative or positive, it just is. That realization has helped me embrace different possible avenues of future work, and topics for writing!

In a profession where science is defined by its objectivity, how do you strike the balance between merit, ideas and your identity as a woman of color?

There is no objectivity in our work and our social identities as political scientists. We know that if we change the names on the top of identical CVs that people tend to think the male CVs are smarter-sounding and tend to discount the ones with obviously “minority-sounding” names. If that’s the case, then anyone reading my research, unless it’s under blind review, will know very clearly what kind of person it belongs to.

So it’s hard to know what constitutes “striking a balance.” My goal as a social scientist is to do the very best work that I can. But you do that, knowing that people can have any number of biases against your research, including your identity, but then also your research topic, approach, and other things that perhaps have less to do with merit, ideas, and objectivity, and more to do with academic and personal bias. I think we have to be willing to accept that reality as reality, but then also know that we have some agency in shifting the way that those biases are experienced through research or speaking out in other ways.

How does being a minority woman in IR impact your experiences – i.e., promotion, interactions with colleagues and students? 

In so many ways, it doesn’t perceptibly do so. Yet, I know that it must with students in particular, beyond the ways that we know appearances affect student opinions of you (e.g. in reviews). But it’s hard to put your finger on a certain type of experience I get because of being a visible minority woman. It may help certain students feel more comfortable with me and others more reluctant.

And I think that’s really the “trouble” here: you never really can fully know how bias might work, how genderization and racialization can swing both ways, and you have to deal with it. The hardest part about it, for me at least, is not knowing (I’m a researcher, after all!) how it all plays out, and that is tiring. As an academic, I’m no stranger to being judged and being judgmental. That’s all part of the job. But not knowing when and if and why I’m being judged, that’s not what they teach you to deal with in seminar and on conference panels.

What we need to do is to actively recognize bias in our profession, and engage people who feel that the visibility of their differences affects their intellectual work. People need to be able to talk about what they have experienced, and others need to respond constructively to those experiences. These things aren’t “stupid” or sui generis or made up – they’re systemic, they affect some individuals and groups disproportionately, and they create disparities in spite of our good intentions. Our efforts may not create the apocryphal “level playing field,” but I certainly hope that having more voices means speaking for oneself, rather than being spoken over or told.

The Legacy of Leadership: Dianne M. Pinderhughes

Dianne Pinderhughes, the first Black woman to serve as president of the American Political Science Association, is a Distinguished Professor and Full Professor in the Departments of Political Science and Africana Studies at the University of Notre Dame. Dr. Pinderhughes’ historic presidency has left an indelible mark on the discipline and continues to shape how political science understands its role in both the academy and public discourse.

During her term from 2007-08, Dr. Pinderhughes’ administration exemplified the enduring importance of identity politics. The centering of identity politics was both a planned and unanticipated focal point of her tenure. While the decision to hold the 2012 APSA annual meeting in New Orleans was made prior to her administration, Dr. Pinderhughes had to respond to the 2004 amendment to the Louisiana state constitution that banned same-sex marriage, one of the most severe bans in the country. In response, LGBTQ academics and allies organized a boycott of the 2012 meeting and vocally opposed the APSA’s decision to move the meeting to another location. Under her leadership, several council meetings were dedicated to reexamine existing siting polices and to create new policies to “assure the civil rights and safety of all APSA members.” Dr. Pinderhughes stressed that “With the guidance of former Executive Director Michael Brintnall, we worked to develop recommendations about the process. APSA spent the year discussing how to move forward, goals to set, and how to address the location of the association. We had a separate council meeting about how to select sites in the future. These were serious and complex criteria in which we were concerned about taking into account the laws of the state.” This issue took the majority of Dr. Pinderhughes’ attention as she and her administration dealt with ways to balance the potential economic benefits to New Orleans for holding the meeting in the city, engaging with local officials about the policy, acknowledging the historic and large gay presence in New Orleans, and accommodating the needs of political scientists and their families. The unintended consequence of the APSA decision to hold the annual meeting in New Orleans was a challenge for which Dianne Pinderhughes was uniquely positioned to handle.

As a scholar of Black politics and former president of the National Conference of Black Political Scientists, Dr. Pinderhughes’ authoritative work on Chicago pluralist politics demonstrates that a nuanced understanding of identity diversification of American politics is at the heart of understanding governmental systems. Along with her subsequent work, Race and Ethnicity in Chicago Politics: A Reexamination of Pluralist Politics, forcefully establishes that a group’s social and political positioning directly maps on to the degrees of progress afforded to this population. Understanding group and identity based coalitions, Dr. Pinderhughes was sensitive to the requests to move the 2012 annual meeting “I was concerned about the damage and taking the conference there to provide financial contributions to the state.” Reifying the need for diversity in governance, Pinderhughes noted “The assumption that you can have a homogenous governing body and that the best way to govern is through having a homogenous population is not going to happen.” In the end, the council voted to keep the conference in New Orleans, however, “hurricane Isaac came to New Orleans and the meeting was canceled, the first in the 100 years of the history of the organization.”

Dr. Pinderhughes originally planned to highlight descriptive representation as key focal point of her administration.  She commissioned the Task Force on Political Science in the 21st Century, which assessed the readiness of political science to embrace and incorporate changes in multicultural diversity as well as economic diversity within nation-states. “I wanted to focus on descriptive representation – people of color, women, in the disciple. I did that in my task force later. But the decision to hold the 2012 APSA annual meeting in New Orleans took the majority of my attention.”  When asked pointedly about the impact of her legacy as the first Black woman president, Dianne Pinderhughes commented that she hoped that this report would “point out to the association in a broad way about the status of representation in graduate programs, faculty hiring/teaching/administrative roles by race and gender. These findings would mobilize, invite, and encourage our colleagues across the country discuss the lack of diversity in our discipline. This is a problem and that they should address it.”  The impetus behind the report was a call made by Theda Skocpol that the American Political Science Association should engage in activities with the broader public and become more accessible to the public. However, Dr. Pinderhughes felt that the APSA first had to look within prior to finding ways to look outward. “I felt that the discipline and association was behind the times in its ability to integrate to attract and add additional graduate students of women and people of color. We need to prioritize this. This was a public sector and leadership issue, particularly descriptive representation of the leadership and population of the country. In order for democracy to work and be meaningful, the profession needed to be more diverse.”

Yet, Dr. Pinderhughes acknowledges that five years since the publication of the report that little has changed within the discipline. “It reflects my own naiveté and optimism that studying an issue and setting an agenda before the discipline would solicit change. After the task force report, there needs to be a 2nd and 3rd phase. There will need to be cultivation over a period of time.” Pointing to current events, Pinderhughes notes, “This election year has reminded us that identity politics can often be volatile. In a diversifying America, identities remain the legitimate issue -immigration, gender, race, class – and we as political scientists have the responsibility to include these issues in our classes and scholarship. They are important issues in our discipline.”

Turning her attention to women of color in the discipline, Dianne Pinderhughes concludes by stating “we have a ways to go. Women are not a sizable population in the discipline in the ways that we ought to be.  There is a significant change that is needed.” In sum, she recommended that the discipline needed to increase the attention to women of color by “providing women support groups that would share information about publishing, promotion strategies, sources for research funding, etc.”  To that end, Dr. Pinderhughes is working to serve as model for promoting diversity in the discipline. At her university, the American Political Science Association, and now 1st Vice President of the International Political Science Association and Co-Chair of its 2016 Istanbul (and now Poznan, Poland) World Congress, she is tirelessly working to diversify the discipline and increase the descriptive representation of underrepresented groups.

I first met Dr. Pinderhughes as senior at Howard University when I served as her undergraduate research assistant while she was a fellow at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars. This opportunity afforded me directed research experience at a critical period in my nascent academic career. It was her continued mentorship that helped me to survive difficult periods in both graduate school and on the tenure track. My firsthand experiences with Dianne Pinderhughes have been transformative and enriching. I can personally attest to the power of having women of color role models in political science as making a striking difference in my career. I wanted to illuminate my arrival at this conclusion by editing this column on Issue Discussions Relevant to Women of Color and Intersectionality. By foregrounding the impact of the legacies of Dr. Dianne Pinderhughes this column seeks highlight the influence of women of color and intersectional issues on political science.

Issue discussions relevant to Women of Color and Intersectionality

This column will feature issues of concern to women of color political scientists and will feature the scholarship of women of color political scientists. The column grew out of the Task Forces on Best Practices by APSA Presidents Carole Pateman and Jane Mansbridge, with support fro the Women’s Caucus for Political Science (WCPS) and the Committee on the Status of Women in the Profession (CSWP), and was approved by the APSA Council when John Aldrich was APSA President.

Columns will appear once a quarter on the APSA website and will be reprinted and circulated to all WCPS members via its Newsletter.  The specific focus of the column is to advance women of color in the academy.  The purpose of this column is to highlight the ways in which women of color navigate within the discipline to ultimately alter both the social and cultural environment of the academy. By producing scholarship on women of color, other marginalized identities, and/or by inhabiting bodies that are deemed out of place in academe (Puwar 2004), the writers of this column will seek to show how the full incorporation of these populations and ideas into political science are necessary to stretch the traditional boundaries of the discipline. Through pioneering scholarship, transformative pedagogy, conscientious service and mentoring, women of color in political science contribute to institutional change. The ultimate goal of the column is to showcase women of color as both scholars and research subjects as well as intersectional issues as deserving respect, support, and inclusion within political science. Columns may be controversial both in the questions and presentation.  For example, this column can also be used to publicize connections to scholarship written by or on women of color that has particularly salient connections to current events and political phenomena.

Advisory board members are welcome to serve as the guest of the editor of the column. The sister column, “Wondering Woman,” is edited by Kristen Monroe (University of California, Irvine) and offers advice on issues of concern to primarily women and other minorities. This column has an explicit focus on WoC as well as other intersectional identities and issues. However, we anticipate some overlap between the two columns and welcome collaboration when possible.

We thank the APSA for its support of this column and encourage APSA members to send questions to the column for consideration. Warmest Regards, Nadia E. Brown

Women of Color Advisory Board

Advisory Board Members

  • Christina Bejarano
    Associate Professor
    Kansas University
  • Lakeyta Bonnette
    Assistant Professor of Political Science
    Georgia State University
  • Camille Burge
    Assistant Professor of Political Science
    Villanova University
  • Jessica Carew
    Assistant Professor of Political Sciennce
    Elon University
  • Stefanie Chambers
    Charles A. Dana Research Associate/ Professor of Political Science
    Trinity College
  • Rebecca Deen
    Associate Professor of Political Science/ Department Chair/Distinguished Teaching Professor
    University of Texas at Arlington
  • Megan Ming Francis
    Assistant Professor Political Science
    University of Washington
  • Christina Greer
    Associate Professor of Political Science
    Fordham University, Lincoln Center Campus
  • Julia Jordan-Zachery
    Professor/Director Black Studies Program
    Providence College
  • Chryl Laird
    Assistant Professor of Political Science and African American Studies
    St. Louis University
  • Linda Mancillas
    Assistant Professor of Political Science/ Chair, APSA Committee on the Status of Latinos y Latinas in the Profession
    Georgia Gwinnett College
  • Natalie Masuoka
    Associate Professor of Political Science
    Tufts University
  • Julie Lee Merseth
    Assistant Professor of Political Science
    Northwestern University
  • Jamila Michener
    Assistant Professor Department of Government
    Cornell University
  • Jessica Lavariega Monforti
    Professor/Chair of Political Science
    Pace University
  • Celeste Montoya
    Associate Professor, Women and Gender Studies
    University of Colorado, Boulder
  • Valeria Sinclair-Chapman
    Associate Professor of Political / Director, Center for Research on Diversity and Inclusion
    Purdue University
  • Tia Stokes-Brown
    Associate Professor of Political Science/ Posse Mentor/ Diversity and Inclusion Faculty Fellow
    Bucknell University
  • Adryan Wallace
    Assistant Professor, Politics and Government Department
    University of Hartford
  • Vesla Weaver
    Associate Professor Political Science and African American Studies
    Yale University
  • Tonya Williams
    Assistant Professor of Political Science*
    Johnson C. Smith University
  • Tiffany Willoughby-Herard
    Associate Professor, African American Studies/ Editor, NPSR
    University of California, Irvine