Women of color in politics have taken on a place of pride in the twenty-first century political experience. Today we can celebrate the first woman of color as vice president and are quick to note the absence of women of color at bargaining tables. But Kamala Harris and “the squad,” a cohort of junior women of color in Congress, all stand on the shoulders of Patsy Takemoto Mink. The new work of Judy Tzu-Chun Wu and Gwendolyn Mink, Fierce and Fearless: Patsy Takemoto Mink First Woman of Color in Congress, offers an engaging account of the Congressmember’s life, drawing upon primary sources such as letters written by the Congressmember and colorful first-person narratives penned by coauthor Gwendolyn Mink, a political scientist and the congressmember’s daughter. Woven through the volume, Professor Mink recounts the struggles, heartaches, and triumphs that she observed and that were shared over family dinners and predawn coffees.

This is not the typical political science book of quantitative demonstrations of theory, but the rich account of the life and political career of a trailblazer, who both endured and shaped key moments in American history. The authors describe the social and economic caste system of sugar and pineapple industries that Mink’s grandparents had to navigate as Japanese immigrants, and Mink’s fight for statehood for Hawaii. Mink served multiple terms in Congress from 1965–77, and again from 1990–2002, concerning which the authors profile key policy debates and victories. She is the celebrated author of, and advocate for, the passage of Title IX, the 1972 education amendment prohibiting discrimination on the basis of sex. The legislation was renamed in her honor after her passing in 2002. Throughout the book, the authors recount Mink’s work on a host of other issues, from coal mining to environmental concerns, to welfare and education, and to nuclear testing, describing her deep conviction for uplifting the voices of the marginalized and disenfranchised, and her political acumen for organizing and mobilizing. Much of her career was dedicated to promoting racial equity and she played an essential role in developing Johnson’s Great Society, while vehemently going against her party by opposing the war in Vietnam, being labeled a “chronic dissenter” for doing so (p. 200).

What the account uniquely offers are human insights into Mink’s life. Lesser known, for example, was the family’s struggle to find a place to live after her being elected to Congress. Coming to Washington prior to the 1967 Loving v. Virginia Supreme Court ruling allowing interracial marriages, the mixed-race family faced discrimination in Virginia and Maryland, eventually finding a home in Washington, DC. After leaving Congress in the late 1970s after an ill-fated run for Senate, the authors detail the Minks’ return to Hawaii to a quieter period of dogs and cats and chickens, and caring for her mother at the end of her life. They recount the fury and heartbreak of learning she had been subjected to an experimental trial while pregnant as a student at the University of Chicago, and detail her triumphant return to Congress in the 1990s to wage battles on welfare and healthcare reform.

The book makes two main contributions. First is the recasting of an historical figure through a modern lens. It’s unlikely that Patsy Mink would have referred to herself as a “woman of color” as she was beginning her political career in the 1950s. The term represents the more modern vernacular for nonwhites. Efrén O. Pérez has argued in his recent book, Destiny’s Child: People of Color and the Politics of Identity (2021), that “person of color” is an identity shared across an assortment of racial and ethnic groups, and denotes a particular view of racialized disparities and how the American political system can address and remedy those disparities. In this retelling of her life, Mink becomes the exemplar of people of color identity—a person who has known firsthand the feeling of discrimination and exclusion, and one who builds cross-racial alliances to advance racial and gender equity and a more inclusive democracy.

Second, at the heart of this book, is an intersectional tale of the duplicities faced by the first woman of color to grace the halls of the United States’ legislative branch. Reading about the demeaning slights and misogyny that Congressmember Mink endured did not come as a surprise but leaves the reader with a great sadness. In today’s world, as women of color in politics grow in number and prominence, such injustices are still ever present, from male members of Congress hurling sexually violent comments at Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, to the president of the United States calling his female colleagues “nasty women.” While still traumatic and hurtful, these defamations of character in contemporary politics are quickly condemned on social media, with viral videos, news columns, and commentary. As an historic first, Patsy Mink undoubtedly faced much isolation. She was exoticized, being called an “Oriental doll,” and rival campaigns flagrantly spread rumors that she was an ill-equipped mother, that she was a woman on the verge of mental breakdown, and that her daughter was developmentally disabled (p. 74). In response, she was a firebrand who called out injustices in her own party and unabashedly fought for a woman’s place in the legal profession and in the world of politics.

Throughout the account, readers are met with a well-researched political history that is paired with a rich narrative that reconsiders Mink’s place in feminist history. The authors reflect on the emergence of scholarship on feminism and intersectionality from authors such as Kimberlé Crenshaw, who emphasizes how race, gender, and other systems of inequality are interlinked. The authors argue that Mink’s identity as a racialized woman from Hawaii shaped her worldview and deeply influenced her style and strategy of political engagement. They contend that Mink promoted “intersectional feminist legislation” particularly during the last 12 years she served in Congress. As an antipoverty advocate, she protested the demonization of black women as “welfare queens” during the debate over welfare reform. She was a staunch advocate for the rights of immigrants as the 1990s saw an escalation of immigration enforcement measures in Congress; and during the period immediately following the attacks on September 11, she objected to the Patriot Act and other measures that would limit the due process and rights of legal permanent residents.

Patsy Takemoto Mink left her imprint on countless policy accomplishments of the twentieth century, and the book’s retelling provides insights that speak to many contemporary literatures. Her reliance on cross-racial organizing and kinship ties in 1950s Hawaii is a lesson on electoral politics in racial and ethnic communities. Her coalition building within the women’s caucus in the 1990s to reject the appointment of Clarence Thomas to the Supreme Court and uplift the voice of Anita Hill defined third-wave feminism. Fierce and Fearless plants Patsy Mink firmly within the panoply of feminist history and makes clear her unique brand of lawmaking, one that combined her many identities as a woman of color and pioneer of intersectional legislative feminism. In this regard, the book is a must-read for scholars of intersectionality and will make an excellent addition to syllabi in a range of courses.