“I define myself as an organizer, though some recognize me as a labor leader.” This was how Dolores Huerta, a towering figure in the annals of American civil rights and labor history, introduced herself during an intimate gathering of female leaders at Gloria Steinem’s New York residence last December—a moment that preceded Steinem’s passing by only a few months.

It was a characteristically humble framing for a woman whose career spanned over seven decades, encompassing the co-founding of the United Farm Workers and the relentless advancement of economic justice, civil rights, and gender equality.

Huerta, who passed away on October 28 at the age of 96, leaves behind a monumental legacy. Beyond her tangible victories, her life serves as a masterclass in the essence of leadership, the mechanics of collective mobilization, and the systemic barriers women encounter when attempting to reform institutions that have historically marginalized them.

The Mechanics of Lasting Change

In my numerous dialogues with Huerta over the years, she consistently maintained that true progress transcends individual heroism or symbolic gestures. Instead, she argued that lasting change is forged through the rigorous work of organizing, educating, and empowering the populace.

Born in 1930 in New Mexico and raised in California, Huerta’s trajectory shifted from the classroom to the front lines of community activism after she witnessed the profound poverty affecting her students. Partnering with César Chávez, she was instrumental in building the United Farm Workers, orchestrating strikes, managing boycotts, and securing labor contracts that fundamentally improved the lives of agricultural workers.

While Chávez often occupied the public spotlight, Huerta was the movement’s strategic engine. Her mastery of negotiation and coalition-building was the primary catalyst for turning collective grievances into concrete policy reforms.

From “Sí, Se Puede” to Political Reality

Perhaps Huerta’s most indelible contribution is the 1972 rallying cry, “Sí, se puede” (“Yes, we can”). This phrase became the heartbeat of the farmworker movement and eventually served as the foundation for Barack Obama’s 2008 presidential campaign. When Obama awarded her the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2012, he openly acknowledged the debt his slogan owed to her.

Huerta was equally adamant about the necessity of electoral participation. She viewed the ballot box as the ultimate non-violent tool for societal protection. “We can march and we can protest,” she explained, “but it’s not going to change anything unless we take that march to the ballot box.” She emphasized that while demonstrations build solidarity, only the election of responsive officials can codify change into law.

Redefining Feminism and Leadership

Huerta’s perspective on leadership was fluid and evolving. Reflecting on her growth, she credited figures like Gloria Steinem and Eleanor Smeal for expanding her understanding of feminism. She moved beyond the idea of women simply holding power, focusing instead on how that power is wielded to dismantle systemic inequality.

She championed a collaborative leadership style, noting that women often prioritize team-based problem solving, consensus building, and the greater good over individual ego. In her 2020 interview, she stressed the urgency of teaching young girls to be fearless: “To be fearless, courageous, adventurous and have faith in themselves.”

Confronting the Costs of Activism

Huerta’s legacy also includes a painful, necessary reckoning. In March 2026, she publicly revealed that she had been sexually abused by César Chávez decades earlier. She explained that her six-decade silence was driven by a desperate need to protect the farmworker movement. This disclosure has forced a difficult, profound reassessment of how movements can harbor internal abuses while fighting for external justice.

Her story serves as a sobering reminder that even the most righteous causes are not immune to the contradictions of power. It challenges us to build movements that are as committed to internal accountability and compassion as they are to public advocacy.

A Legacy of Persistent Hope

Even in her final years, Huerta remained a beacon of optimism, rooted in the lessons of history. She viewed periods of social turmoil—from the Great Depression to the civil rights era—as precursors to meaningful transformation. For Huerta, hope was never passive; it was a call to action. Her life remains a testament to the fact that while justice may be elusive, it is always within reach for those willing to organize, educate, and persist.