Leading from the front

Fern Sawyer wasn’t one to wait for permission. She rode.

At a time when women were expected to sit sidesaddle, both literally and figuratively, Sawyer rode astride, fast and fearless, across the open country of southern New Mexico. She rode in rodeos, in parades, in exhibitions, and in a life that stretched well beyond the boundaries placed in front of her.

Long before the phrase “trailblazer” became common, Fern Sawyer was already living it.

Sawyer’s story began in the wide, sunbaked landscapes of the Mesilla Valley, where horses were not a hobby but a way of life. Born in the early years of the 20th century, she came of age in a region still tied closely to its ranching roots, where the rhythm of the day was dictated by the land and the animals that moved across it.

For Sawyer, the saddle wasn’t something she grew into. It was where she belonged. It was where her father insisted she excel.

While many young girls of her era were steered toward domestic expectations, Sawyer found her footing, and her freedom, on horseback. She learned quickly, and more importantly, she rode with a confidence that set her apart. There was no hesitation in her movements, no sense that she was stepping outside a prescribed role.

She simply rode. And in doing so, she began to challenge what that world believed women could do.

Rodeo in the early 1900s was rough, competitive and overwhelmingly male, a proving ground where skill, grit and toughness mattered more than anything else. For a woman to step into that arena invited skepticism at best, dismissal at worst.

Fern Sawyer jumped in anyway. She was all in.

She became known for her horsemanship and for a style of riding that demanded attention. Trick riding, racing, exhibitions — she did it all with a blend of precision and daring. Crowds came to see something different, and Sawyer delivered.

But what made her remarkable wasn’t just that she performed. It was that she belonged.

“She was a politician, a cowgirl, all of those things, and she starred in the rodeo in the early 30s, competing against men because she thought the women's competitions were boring,” said Brittany Porter, curator at the New Mexico Farm & Ranch Heritage Museum, which is currently running an exhibit exploring Sawyer’s life. “She grew up on a ranch, and her father expected her to be as good as the men at the horses, so she made sure she did that. In 1940 she won the cutting horse competition at the Fort Stockton show against two other men. She's the first woman to ever win that. She's also in the Cowgirl Hall of Fame.”

In an era when women in rodeo were often treated as novelties, Sawyer carved out a space rooted in respect. She wasn’t there to be a sideshow. She was there to compete — and to win.

Success in the arena was only part of Sawyer’s story. As her reputation grew, so did her influence. She became part of a broader movement of women reshaping the possibilities of rodeo and western sport. Alongside other pioneering cowgirls, Sawyer helped lay the groundwork for what would eventually become organized opportunities for women.

The road wasn’t easy. Opportunities were inconsistent. Events came and went. Recognition was uneven. But Sawyer stayed in it, not just for herself, but for what it represented.

She rode in exhibitions that brought attention to women’s abilities. She connected with other riders pushing similar boundaries. And she became, whether she sought it or not, a visible example of what was possible.

In the years that followed, women’s rodeo would grow, organize and evolve. Sawyer had been there near the beginning.

Through it all, New Mexico remained central to her story.

In Las Cruces and beyond, her name was recognized, not just for what she did as a rider, but as someone who had done something uncommon. She had lived on her own terms.

It would be easy to define Fern Sawyer solely by what she did in the saddle.

But her story reaches beyond that. She represents a moment in time when the lines around women’s roles were beginning to shift — slowly, unevenly, but undeniably. Women like Sawyer didn’t always set out to lead movements, but their choices helped create them.

By riding the way she did, by showing up in spaces where she wasn’t expected, she expanded the idea of what a woman could be in the American West.

She didn’t ask for the spotlight. But she earned it anyway.

She didn’t confine herself to the rodeo arena.

Sawyer, a fiercely independent woman who never married and lived life on her own terms, was also active in New Mexico politics. She served as chairwoman of the Lincoln County Democratic Party and carried her passion for rodeo and ranching into public service.

She became the first woman appointed to the New Mexico State Fair Board and later served on the New Mexico State Racing Commission. She was remembered not only for her leadership, but for her presence, particularly during grand entrances at the state fair, where her style was unmistakable.

“She made sure she always dressed nicely when she was doing anything,” Porter said. “She matched her outfits and her hats to those boots and that’s what a lot of people remember her by. One of the other things people remember is that for years, she rode with the American flag at the state fair.”

Her flair was part of the legend, along with a collection of more than 200 pairs of custom boots.

Sawyer’s independence extended into every corner of her life.

Porter recalled a story passed down from her mother, who had been Sawyer’s neighbor, about the gravel road leading to Sawyer’s home along Highway 37.

“She loved her Cadillac and they were going to take away money from paving the road,” Porter said. “She said no, that’s not going to happen, and went to the governor. They paved the road. She made sure that happened because she didn’t want her Cadillac dented from the rocks.”

It was a small story, but a telling one — a reflection of a woman who didn’t wait for problems to be solved. She solved them.

Porter also came across a story about Sawyer’s encounter with President John F. Kennedy.

“She was chosen to pick up JFK from the airport when he came to New Mexico,” she said. “They told her to be on her best behavior, not cussing (which she was known to do regularly), but I guess she hit a pothole or something and cussed. She really got along with the president, however, because he was a rodeo fan.”

In every part of her life, Sawyer moved forward with the same instinct that defined her in the saddle.

She didn’t wait for the path to be cleared. She rode anyway.

Today, women in rodeo compete at the highest levels, with organizations, championships and recognition that early riders like Sawyer could only imagine. Those opportunities didn’t appear on their own. They were built — ride by ride, moment by moment — by women willing to step into spaces where they weren’t expected.

Sawyer was one of them.

Her life wasn’t defined by a single moment, but by a pattern of persistence, by the steady decision to keep going, even when the way forward wasn’t clear.

And in doing so, she left something lasting behind. Not just a record of what she accomplished. But a path.