Centering Survivors, Not Symbols: Dolores Huerta and the Meaning of This Moment
by Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.
March 18, 2026
“Cesar’s actions do not reflect the values of our community and our movement.”
There are moments when the stories we inherit ask something difficult of us. This is one of them. Dolores Huerta, at nearly 96 years old, has broken a silence she carried for more than half a century. In her own words, she was “manipulated and pressured,” and later “forced, against [her] will,” into sexual encounters with Cesar Chavez at a time when he was her boss, someone she admired, and the central figure in a movement she had already given her life to.
She tells us she stayed silent because the movement mattered—that the fight for farmworker justice could not be derailed. And now, she tells us that her silence has ended (Fernandez & Hurtes, 2026). In her words, per an NBC Los Angeles report (posted below) by Jonathan Lloyd,
“The knowledge that he hurt young girls sickens me. My heart aches for everyone who suffered alone and in silence for years. There are no words strong enough to condemn those deplorable actions that he did. Cesar’s actions do not reflect the values of our community and our movement.”
I sit with this with a heavy heart. Like so many, I have long held deep respect for the farmworker movement and what it made possible for our communities. That does not go away. But neither can we look away from what Huerta has entrusted us with. When she names herself as a survivor—of sexual violence, of power, of men who saw women as objects to control—she is not only telling her story. She is opening a space for others, including those who, as she notes, were harmed as young girls and carried that pain alone.
So I find myself asking: what would it mean to honor this moment with integrity? Perhaps it means that Cesar Chavez Day goes away—or alternatively, becomes something more honest, more expansive—a day where we hold the complexity of our histories and center those who have been pushed to the margins. A day to stand with survivors of sexual abuse, with children who have been violated, with those living under the weight of gendered and state violence.
If we take Huerta seriously—and I believe we must—then this is not about tearing down a movement, but about refusing to root it in silence. It is about bringing our commemorations into right relationship with the values we name: dignity, truth, and justice. And it is about honoring her courage by listening—to the voices of other survivors who have carried these truths quietly, often alone, for far too long.
And listening must move us to act. Support organizations that provide care and advocacy for survivors. Create spaces in our communities where people can speak without fear and be met with belief, not doubt. Teach our students and our children about consent, power, and accountability. Demand that our institutions—whether movements, universities, or the state itself—take seriously their responsibility to protect the vulnerable and to confront harm, even when it is inconvenient or painful.
Let this be one of commitment to survivors, to truth, and to a future where justice is not selective, and where no one is asked to carry such burdens alone.
References
Fernandez, M. & Hurtes, S. (2026, March 18). Cesar Chavez, a civil rights icon, is accused of abusing girls for years, New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2026/03/18/us/cesar-chavez-sexual-abuse-allegations-ufw.html