The Contrarian originally posted a version of this piece on civil rights icon and beloved leader Dolores Huerta on March 20, 2026, following her decision to share a devastating truth she carried alone for sixty years: that her closest colleague, mentor, boss — and the internationally revered face of the farmworker movement, César Chávez — sexually abused her. Huerta decided to do so in the wake of a New York Times investigation revealing that Chávez also preyed upon other young women, including underage girls.
Dolores Huerta passed away today at a brave ninety-six years old, leaving behind an extraordinary legacy of making courageous, dangerous decisions for the good of the people, including her choice to share the onus of this secret in the final months of her vibrant, storied life.
Across Latino, immigrant, labor, civil rights, and farmworker communities — and far beyond — hearts were broken today to learn of the loss of Dolores. More than ever, in her honor, we must uplift all those for whom she fought, including the women who continue to endure in silence for the sake of the movement. Her memory is more than deserving of not only our reverence and gratitude, but also our protection of one another.
For those who continue to ask the familiar, painful question: Why did she stay silent for so long?
The answer is both simple and devastating. This is what too many women do — especially Latina women. We are raised to be caregivers before anything else; protectors of our families, our children, our communities. We are taught to hold everything together, to sacrifice ourselves, to endure quietly for the greater good. In Dolores’s own words, she stayed silent about Chávez for her family, her community, and the farmworker movement to which she devoted her life. Until she determined:
Pues ya basta. Enough is enough.
Throughout her life — often without credit, often without recognition — Dolores Huerta led us forward. Most recently in public memory, she pushed us into a new era of truth, transparency, and accountability. Her story, alongside those of the other brave survivors, reflects a tale as old as power itself: a man intoxicated by authority and adulation comes to believe that women are his to control.
None of those horrific revelations erase the very real gains made in farmworkers’ rights through years of grueling, backbreaking organizing. Those victories belong to an entire movement. Yes, Chávez was a leader — but so much of the unacknowledged credit belongs to Dolores Huerta and to the women who powered that movement from behind the curtain.
Dolores Huerta and these women were the movement’s true, unspoken heroes. Dolores organized the boycotts. She coined the immortal words “Sí se puede.” She co-founded the United Farm Workers. She stood beside Robert F. Kennedy in his final days. And yet, history too often reduced her to a “sidekick” — a demeaning and inaccurate label even before we knew the full truth, and now a cruel mockery of the suffering she endured.
And still — despite everything — Dolores persevered. If her silence cost her dearly, it also revealed her extraordinary strength. She never stopped showing up for those whose rights were denied or ignored: farmworkers, immigrants, Latinos, women, and all those pushed to the margins or into the shadows. She marched. She rallied. She organized. She supported leaders who stood with workers. She never abandoned the call to justice.
Now, in honor of the values by which she charted her own way, we owe her.
In the wake of her passing, let us recommit ourselves to unequivocally believing and supporting women who come forward with stories of sexual violence and abuse at the hands of powerful men. Let us refuse to look away, knowing this is still happening every day — in the fields, in homes, in factories — where Latina and immigrant women continue to suffer in silence. It is long past time to hold perpetrators accountable, no matter how powerful they may be.
The name Dolores means pains in Spanish. Let us now transform that pain into purpose.
Let us remember Dolores — and every woman who has suffered in silence — by proving that their courage was not in vain. Though her earthly presence will be sorely missed by all those who loved or revered her to honor her legacy by deepening our commitment to service, by defending workers’ and women’s rights with renewed resolve, and by never backing down in the face of power, cruelty, misogyny, or sexism.
And yes — dare I say it — Sí, se puede! Yes, We Can!
