Women’s History Month: Memory, Movement, and the Responsibility of Truth

By Ivan Kilgore

Every year, Women’s History Month invites me to pause and reflect not only on the victories that have been won, but on the work that still remains. For me, it is a time to celebrate courage, resilience, and transformation. However, it is also a time that demands honesty; honesty about the systems that shaped inequality, the people who challenged them, and the uncomfortable truths that complicate even the legacies we admire most.

 

As I reflect, I find myself grappling with the complexity of figures like Cesar Chavez. I learned about Chavez as a major civil rights leader, someone who co-founded the National Farm Workers Association in 1962 alongside Dolores Huerta. Together, they fought against the exploitation of farmworkers, many of whom were Latinx immigrants living and working under harsh conditions. For a long time, I saw Chavez as a symbol of resistance and dignity.

 

But as I began to look deeper, especially through narratives centered on Huerta’s experience, I was confronted with a more complicated reality. I learned about the sexism that existed within the movement, and about allegations tied to Chavez’s personal behavior. That forced me to ask difficult questions: How do I reconcile the good someone has done with the harm they may have caused? What does accountability look like in the context of history? And how does all of this shape the way I currently understand women’s liberation?

 

These are not easy questions, but I believe Women’s History Month is exactly the right time to sit with them.

 

The Complexity of Legacy

 

I have come to realize that history is often presented in ways that are oversimplified. We are taught to celebrate heroes, to focus on victories, to remember names as symbols of progress. But the more I reflect, the more I understand that people are rarely just symbols. They are complex, shaped by their time, capable of both meaningful contributions and real harm.

When I think about Chavez in this context, I don’t see just a hero or just a flawed man—I see both. And for me, that changes how I approach history. It’s not about erasing it, but about expanding it. About being honest enough to hold both truth and contradiction at the same time.

Women’s History Month, for me, becomes more than a celebration, but a space for truth.

Centering Women Within the Narrative

One of the things that has impacted me the most is learning more about Dolores Huerta. For so long, she was not given the same recognition as Chavez, even though her role in the movement was essential. She was a strategist, a negotiator, and a driving force behind much of its success. 

What stands out to me even more is her willingness to speak about the sexism she experienced within the movement itself. That forces me to confront a difficult reality: even movements that fight for justice can reproduce inequality internally.

For me, this is exactly why Women’s History Month matters. It is about bringing those hidden stories to light. It is about making sure that women are not just included in history, but truly centered in it.

Sexism as Culture, Not Exception

One of the most important realizations I have had is that sexism is not just about individual actions, it is about culture. It is something that shapes how we think, how we see the world, and how we relate to one another, often without us even realizing it.

This became clear to me through personal reflection on my upbringing. Growing up in conservative Oklahoma, I was raised with a patriarchal view that defined a man as a provider and a woman as a caretaker. This was the nature of my grandparents, uncles and aunts, and my mother’s marriage. Then times changed. I was exposed to broken families and community structures. Addiction made mothers prostitutes, and far too many of the girls I grew up with embraced the idea of being a sex object. As a young street hustler, I accepted the nature of these arrangements without question. I knew absolutely nothing about culture and its effect. It wouldn’t be until my daughter was born in the mid-1990s that I began to explore the impact of sexism on my worldview. This caused me to reflect on how deeply ingrained these ideas can be. Sexism is not always taught directly, it is absorbed. It becomes normal. It becomes invisible.

What struck me most is the honesty in recognizing complicity. There is no attempt to stand outside of the problem, but rather to acknowledge being shaped by it. And for me, that is powerful, because it shows that change begins with awareness. The turning point, the birth of a daughter, reminds me that transformation is possible. That even deeply rooted beliefs can be questioned and unlearned. For me, this is what Women’s History Month should also represent: not just honoring the past, but challenging ourselves in the present.

The Ongoing Struggle for Women’s Liberation

When I think about where we are today, I cannot ignore how much work is still left to do. Movements like #MeToo have exposed just how widespread sexual harassment and abuse are. They have forced conversations that many people were not ready to have.

And yet, despite all of this, women continue to face barriers, whether it is in their right to make choices about their own bodies, in the workplace, or in simply living free from violence and discrimination. For me, this is why Women’s History Month cannot just be about looking back. It has to be about action.

Supporting women’s liberation today means listening. It means amplifying and centering women’s voices and narratives. It means questioning systems that continue to perpetuate inequality. It also means recognizing that not all women experience these struggles in the same way; race, class, and other factors matter. It also means holding movements accountable. A movement that fights for justice must also practice it internally.

The Question of Erasure vs. Accountability

One of the questions I continue to wrestle with is what to do with historical figures whose actions no longer align with our values. I understand the impulse to remove statues, to rename holidays, to distance ourselves from people who have caused harm. But I also worry about what happens when we erase history instead of confronting it.

For me, the answer is not erasure but depth. It is telling the full story. It is acknowledging both the contributions and the harm. Separating a person’s legacy from their actions is not about excusing what they did. It is about being honest enough to learn from it.

As Martin Luther King Jr. reminded us, justice and integrity go hand in hand. If we ignore harm to preserve a legacy, we lose our credibility.

Culture, Memory, and Responsibility

I have come to understand that culture shapes what we remember and how we remember it. For so long, women’s contributions have been pushed to the margins, their voices overshadowed. For me, Women’s History Month is an opportunity to change that—not by rewriting history, but by expanding it.

That means confronting uncomfortable truths. It means acknowledging that even movements for justice have had their flaws. And it means committing to doing better moving forward.

I also recognize that this responsibility is not just institutional, it is personal. I am part of this culture too, and I have a role to play in challenging harmful norms.

Moving Forward with Integrity

I don’t believe there are easy answers to these questions. Holding history accountable while still honoring it is not simple. It requires reflection, humility, and ongoing conversation.

But what I do know is this: progress is not perfect. It is messy. It is uncomfortable. And it requires honesty.

I believe we can celebrate achievements while still acknowledging harm. I believe we can honor movements while still questioning them. And I believe we can support women’s liberation not just in words, but in action. Most importantly, I believe we must choose truth—even when it is difficult. Because a just society is not built on perfect heroes. It is built on honesty.

 

A Time For Reflection

As I reflect on Women’s History Month, I realize that it is not just about remembering, but about engaging. It is about questioning, learning, and growing. The discussion around Cesar Chavez has challenged me to think more deeply about history, accountability, and what it truly means to honor women’s experiences.

At the same time, it has reminded me of something essential: this month must remain centered on women. Their voices, their struggles, and their contributions should never be overshadowed. Women’s history is not separate from history, it is at its core. And if I truly want to honor it, then I must commit to building a world where equality is not just an idea, but a reality. That work is ongoing. And I am part of it.