
Luz Zamora sang “No Nos Moveran.”
As I continue to reflect on the passing of the extraordinary Dolores Huerta, I find myself returning to a beautiful memory from eight years ago on January 18, 2018, when Southwestern University in Georgetown, Texas, welcomed her to campus as part of its commemoration of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s life and legacy.
What makes this occasion especially dear to my heart is that our daughter, Luz Zamora, opens the event singing the beloved movement song, “No nos moverán” (“We Shall Not Be Moved”). I cannot think of a more fitting way to welcome a woman who spent her life standing firm against injustice, often at enormous personal sacrifice. I’m remember this moment and was so glad to see our daughter play a direct role in bringing Dolores Huerta to campus.
As a mother, a Mexican American woman, and an educator who has devoted much of my life to ensuring that our histories are taught and remembered, this moment touches me deeply. Our histories as Mexican Americans are so rarely given their rightful place in our schools and in the larger American narrative. Too many of our children grow up without knowing the names, struggles, and extraordinary contributions of people like Dolores Huerta. And too often, the women who helped build our civil rights movements remain in the shadows of the men alongside whom they struggled.
This is why hearing Luz sing “No nos moverán” in Dolores’ presence means so much to me. It represents something deeply personal: the passing of our histories, our values, our struggles, and our hopes from one generation to the next. As parents, Emilio and I have always wanted our daughters to know where they come from, to understand the sacrifices of those who came before them, and to recognize their own responsibility to help make this world more just.

Dolores reminded young people that the struggle for justice belongs to every generation.
I am especially moved by this memory now, knowing more about the pain Dolores carried for so many decades, even as she gave so much of herself to others. My heart aches for her and for all that she endured. Yet I refuse to let that suffering overshadow the magnificent life she lived and the countless people whose lives she changed.
As you can see from her presentation in the video, Dolores, then around 88 years old, was as sharp as a tack, captivating an audience of undergraduate students with her wit, energy, and infectious enthusiasm. At one particularly memorable moment, she reassured students who might have lamented missing the great social movements of the late 1960s that they had not missed their chance to make history. “Don’t worry,” she exclaimed to the delighted crowd, “they’re back!” It was vintage Dolores—spirited, hopeful, and forever reminding young people that the struggle for justice belongs to every generation.
Dolores, thank you for being the extraordinary woman you were, for the sacrifices you made, for the doors you opened, and for showing generations of us what courage, conviction, and love for our people look like in action.
I am so grateful that our daughter had this opportunity to honor you through song, and that we have this beautiful memory to cherish.
Thanks to Dr. Brenda Sendejo for sharing this beautiful memory and video. May you finally rest in the peace, dignity, and love you so richly deserve.
¡Dolores Huerta, presente! ¡Sí se puede! ¡No nos moverán!
-Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.