Subscribe to The Y’all — a weekly dispatch about the people, places and policies defining Texas, produced by Texas Tribune journalists living in communities across the state.

Dolores Huerta, a trailblazing civil rights activist who spent her life fighting to improve the working conditions of farmworkers — and founder of the popular rally cry, “Sí, se puede,” — died in California on Wednesday. She was 96. 

She died of cancer, according to a statement from her family posted on the social media accounts of her organization, the Dolores Huerta Foundation. 

Huerta was known as a firebrand advocate for migrant farmworkers across the country, from the grape fields in southern California to the orange groves in South Texas. She often had to tilt her head up to reach fixed microphones on stages — but her speeches sent ripples across the country. 

“As you can imagine, this is an incredibly difficult time for us, and we ask for privacy as we grieve this incredible loss to our family,” Huerta’s family said in a statement posted on her foundation’s Instagram account. “We know that many of you around the world share in our mourning, and we will be following up on plans to recognize and celebrate her incredible life and legacy.”

Huerta’s work has helped farmworkers nationwide, but she had deep roots in Texas. She was a prominent leader of the Chicano movement, fighting for the rights of the people growing, harvesting and packaging fruits and vegetables shipped across the country. She, alongside César Chavez, cofounded several organizations that continue to support farmworkers, such as United Farm Workers of America, and La Unión del Pueblo Entero in the Rio Grande Valley. 

“I truly believe that until her last breath, she was thinking about how people will turn out to the polls, and she was thinking about organizing,” Tania Chávez-Camacho, president of LUPE, told the Texas Tribune. 

Chávez-Camacho said Huerta served as a special inspiration for Latina activists. 

“Her life was always about bringing justice to others, and that was in her work for immigrants, her work for democracy, her work for equal pay for women to ensure that people were treated with dignity and respect,” she said. 

Huerta’s work started in Southern California to help migrant farmers unionize and fight against unfair labor practices, such as harmful pesticides and poor wages. 

Eventually her work to lift the voices of the country’s Chicano population spanned the U.S. — including Texas — and promoted feminism, voting rights and more. 

Huerta re-entered the limelight when several women — including Huerta herself — spoke out against Chavez, revealing they endured sexual abuse at the hands of Chavez, as reported by the New York Times earlier this year. But those inspired by Huerta say her work shouldn’t be overshadowed by Chavez’s disgrace.

Huerta advocated for women’s rights as much as she did for farmworkers. 

“Women are not taught that they are going to have to defend themselves, that they’re going to have to support themselves and they have to protect themselves,” Huerta said in her 2018 TedWomen speech. “Because, you know, when we actually look at the animal kingdom, and we see who are the most ferocious, the male or the female? We know it’s the female, right? So something went wrong with us at the top of that animal kingdom as women.”

Huerta began organizing at 25 years old, serving as a volunteer for Mexican American civil rights group in California, Community Service Organization. Her first task, she said in her speech, was to deliver an application to a welfare office for her boss, Fred Ross. But when she got there, she said she was not allowed to submit paperwork for a man. 

After she told her boss she was not allowed to, Ross told her not to accept that as an answer. 

“He said to me, very sternly, ‘You go right back down to that welfare office, and you demand to see a supervisor. And you demand that they let him make an application.’” Huerta said. “And I thought, ‘Wow, I can do that?’”

She went back to the office and was able to submit the application. Dolores spent the rest of her life inspiring others to do the same.

“Dolores Huerta was a trailblazing civil rights leader who fought for the dignity of farm workers and migrant laborers,” U.S. Rep. Joaquin Castro, D-San Antonio, said on X. “Organizing walkouts, boycotts, and nonviolent protests, she transformed the U.S. labor movement and improved countless lives.”

Many others echoed the sentiment. 

“I’m heartbroken,” U.S. Rep. Greg Casar, D-Austin, said on X. “For decades, Dolores Huerta fought to make the world a better place for workers, women, and immigrants.”

Rep. Christian Menefee, D-Houston, said: “As one of America’s great labor and civil rights icons, she showed us the power of collective action. Her legacy will live on in the lives she touched and the generations she inspired.”

Huerta was an activist even into her 90s. She led a rally for voters’ rights at the Capitol in Austin in September 2025, demanding a review of the state’s newly redistricted maps that she said silenced minority voices at the polls. 

Earlier this year, Huerta made an appearance at the Texas Democratic Convention, and the organization in a statement said Huerta’s legacy is going to continue to serve as inspiration for them.

“Dolores Huerta dedicated her life to reminding us that our voices matter, that our rights are worth fighting for, and that real change happens when people come together and refuse to endure injustices in silence,” the statement reads. “Her message remains as relevant as ever: our democracy is stronger when everyone has a voice and everyone has a seat at the table.” 

She spent her life pushing people to question those in power. 

“This is something we should always keep in mind: every public official, guess what, they work for us,” she said in her 2018 speech. “Because we pay their salaries with our taxes, and they are actually our servants. Some of them turn out to be leaders, but not all of them.”

When Chávez-Camacho, who leads LUPE in the Rio Grande Valley, thinks of Huerta, she thinks of her advocacy work, for sure. But she also remembers the joy Huerta carried with her. 

Chávez-Camacho remembers attending an event in which Huerta was asked “How do you keep going, even when you’re tired and burnt out?”

Huerta’s response: “I dance.” 

“She was beat up by the police, she was in the picket lines, she ensured that folks registered to vote. That work is not easy,” Chávez-Camacho said. “Knocking on doors, talking to voters, engaging in difficult conversations with folks, and she did it over and over again, day after day. And the only reason why she was able to do it is because she kept dancing.”

Disclosure: The New York Times has been a major financial supporter of The Texas Tribune. The Texas Tribune is a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that is funded in part by donations from members, foundations and corporate sponsors. Financial supporters play no role in our journalism. Find a complete list of them and more information about our financial and disclosure policies here.

Jess Huff contributed reporting.