Arts & Entertainment
The Late Chicago Teachers Union Powerhouse Karen Lewis Explores Her Life, Leadership in New Memoir
The legacy of former Chicago Teachers Union president Karen Lewis can still be felt in public education in the city today.
The feisty and outspoken chemistry teacher led nearly 25,000 teachers on a historic weeklong strike in 2012, changing the way the union organized and negotiated.
Lewis also considered challenging Mayor Rahm Emanuel before dropping her plans to run for mayor after being diagnosed with brain cancer. She died in 2021 at 67 years old.
But she’s still telling her story in a new memoir called, “I Didn’t Come Here to Lie: My Life and Education.”
Lewis co-wrote the book with Elizabeth Todd-Breland, a University of Illinois Chicago professor and former vice president of the Chicago Board of Education.
Todd-Breland said the memoir reveals the intimate, more vulnerable aspects of Lewis, such as how she dealt with her illness and her conversion to Judaism — which were rarely seen during her time as the union’s leader.
“She provides a glimpse into the less public, more private figure as opposed to the caricatures often depicted in the media,” said Todd-Breland. “In her young life, she was a first in so many ways. She was the only Black woman in her class to graduate from Dartmouth. She found teaching later in life.”
Todd-Breland started working on the project in 2017. She first assisted Lewis with writing the book’s historical context, but took on a bigger role after Lewis had a stroke that made her unable to write. Todd-Breland then wrote the rest of the memoir using the CTU’s archive and transcribed conversations with Lewis.
Todd-Breland said her work on the memoir served as a constant reminder of Lewis’ principles, which Todd-Breland said guided her as she worked under mayors Lori Lightfoot and Brandon Johnson. Todd-Breland was on the board for five and a half years before resigning in October 2024.
“She was in my ear as I was listening to her and as I was deciding where to move these chapters,” said Todd-Breland. “It was a very grounding experience to be able to tap into the principles that Karen Lewis talked about.”
The memoir revisits conversations about collective bargaining and fights for fully funded public education at a time when education is facing extreme challenges. From the cuts to the U.S. Department of Education to school districts coming under fire for diversity, equity and inclusion programming, Todd-Breland said the issues Lewis fought for are still reflected in the current national context.
Despite public education’s troubled state, Todd-Breland said the push for public education funding is just as important now.
“Where we are now is that we have to continue to fight and protect public education,” said Todd-Breland. “We have to stay the course and go further. When you think about who you’re representing, you think about the students with the least support and opportunity. Now is not the time to preemptively pack up and go home.”
Read an excerpt from the book below:
The world changed for me on Sunday, October 5, 2014. That morning, I attended a lovely community breakfast at a couple’s home on the North Side of Chicago. The couple’s children had attended Lane Tech High School, one of the largest and oldest public high schools in Chicago. I had taught chemistry at Lane for many years. The breakfast was a stop on my listening tour of the city’s seventy-seven neighborhoods as I prepared to run for mayor.
Rahm Emanuel, the incumbent mayor, may have had President Barack Obama’s encouragement and backing, but the polls were predicting a close race between us. That summer, the Chicago Sun-Times had me running about nine points ahead of Rahm, and I stayed ahead in most of the polls as Rahm’s unpopularity continued to grow. I hadn’t officially entered the race, but the American Federation of Teachers (AFT) had promised to pledge $1 million to my campaign if I decided to run.
On that October morning, I listened intently to a group of middle-income couples discuss the vision they had for Chicago. These predominantly white North Siders were horrified about the governance of our city and were seeking other approaches to the issues—education was just one topic we discussed. From what I experienced, Rahm had a control-and-command style of governance that was undemocratic. Elites beholden to the mayor wielded power in the city. You could hear their voices in what came out of city hall, not the voices of the people of the city of Chicago. And Rahm’s policies reflected this. He supported privatizing public education and other public services and promoted policies that disrupted school communities and entire neighborhoods. He closed public mental health clinics and public schools. Combatting poverty and violence, increasing access to health care—these things were important to my supporters and our communities.
I left the breakfast meeting energized but exhausted. I went home, took a nap, and readied myself for the next stop: the same type of meeting, this one in the predominantly Black South Side neighborhood of South Shore, about forty minutes away from my first engagement that day.
I arrived at the home of Deborah Harrington with my dear friend and campaign manager, Jay Travis, a brilliant Black woman and organizer whom I trusted and adored. The home was a spacious vintage South Side apartment that featured gorgeous hardwood floors, charming architectural details, and tastefully arranged furniture. Harrington is a well-known philanthropist and activist in Chicago and was the first Black woman to lead the Woods Fund, a foundation that centers racial and economic justice in its grantmaking. Soon after we arrived, Jay insisted I accompany her to our host’s bathroom. “Let’s have a little water,” she said, looking concerned. As I tried to drink, the water dribbled down my jaw. “We’re going to the hospital. Right now.” Jay thought I was having a stroke.
Mercy Hospital, a small teaching hospital just south of downtown, was about a fifteen-minute drive from Deborah’s apartment and closer to my own South Side home in Bronzeville. The Mercy Hospital emergency room wasn’t particularly crowded, and I was given an immediate EKG and CT scan. Imagine my shock when an ER nurse told me, “You have a brain tumor.” I heard these words in the distorted slow-motion voice featured in movies.
Excerpted from the book I Didn’t Come Here to Lie by Karen Lewis and Elizabeth Todd-Breland. Copyright © 2025 by Karen G.J. Lewis, NBCT, and Elizabeth Todd-Breland. Reprinted with permission of Haymarket Books. All rights reserved.
