The woman who quietly changed the face of the civil rights movement
Known as the “godmother of civil rights,” Dorothy Height fought not just for racial justice but for women’s equality.

She helped organize the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, and sat onstage near Martin Luther King, Jr., as he delivered his pivotal “I Have a Dream” speech. But while her contributions to the historic event were essential to its success, Dorothy Height’s lifetime devoted to ending racial discrimination in the United States was overlooked compared to her male counterparts during the civil rights movement.
Black women historically have been central to civil rights movements even as many of their contributions were minimized publicly. Black women organized, strategized, and sustained grassroots campaigns, yet were often denied leadership recognition and pushed out of the spotlight. Instead, Black women were asked to prioritize racial unity over gender issues, with many arguing that focusing on women's rights would divide the movement against white supremacy. The ratification of the 15th Amendment exemplifies this dynamic as it gave only Black men the right to vote, further sidelining Black women’s political power.
Despite being largely pushed to the background during in the fight for racial and gender equality, Height is now recognized as “the godmother of civil rights movement.” Here’s why Height’s legacy and influence on American society still reverberates to this day.
Dorothy Height’s early life
Born in Richmond, Virginia, on March 24, 1912, Height and her family moved to Rankin, Pennsylvania, four years later, part of the Great Migration of African Americans from the South to the North. As a teenager in high school, Height showed a talent for public speaking, winning top honors in a national oratory contest, for which she was awarded a four-year university scholarship.
Height had planned to study psychiatry at Barnard College in New York, but she was devastated after being informed by the dean that the college had already fulfilled its yearly quota of admitting only two African American students. Height instead attended New York University, earning a bachelor’s degree in education and a master’s in psychology.

After finishing her studies, Height jumped at the chance to serve her community. In her 2003 memoir Open Wide the Freedom Gates, Height recalled being inspired by young people's politically vibrant activism of the 1930s. "We really believed that we were building a new world," she says in the novel. “I was determined to make America worthy of her stated ideals."
Height served as an executive at the Young Women's Christian Association’s (YWCA) Harlem branch in 1937, in addition to leadership roles in three other youth organizations and at the New York City Welfare Department.
(The teen who refused to give up her seat on a segregated bus—before Rosa Parks.)
On November 7, 1937, the 25-year-old Height had one of the most consequential moments of her life thus far. Assigned to escort First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt to a National Council of Negro Women (NCNW) meeting, Height met NCNW founder and her future mentor Mary McLeod Bethune, who soon invited Height to join an inner circle of young, multiracial supporters. Height got her first opportunity to learn how to exert political influence as they met at Bethune’s apartment in Washington, D.C., to formulate a plan to help make President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal a success.
Following in Bethune’s footsteps, Height quickly rose in the ranks at the YWCA, becoming a national leader. She helped initiate the Y’s diversity and racial justice programs and led the charge to desegregate the organization’s national facilities in 1946. The following year, Height became the 10th national president of historically African American sorority Delta Sigma Theta, transforming the organization into a national force for civil rights and social action.
The godmother of civil rights
Two years after Bethune’s death, Height took over as president of NCNW in 1957, a position she would hold for the next four decades.
Taking the helm of the organization during the onset of the civil rights movement, Height would lead both the NCNW and YWCA through a fundamental period in the fight for American racial justice. She instituted desegregation efforts in the South, worked with the Council for United Civil Rights Leadership (CUCRL) to organize the 1963 March on Washington, and was just one of the women leading alongside the “Big Six” group of civil rights leaders: Martin Luther King, Jr., James Farmer, John Lewis, A. Philip Randolph, Roy Wilkins, and Whitney Young.
(Rare color photographs offer intimate glimpse of 1963 March on Washington.)
Despite her national distinction and being one of the March’s principal organizers, neither she nor any other woman was invited to speak on stage that day. She later attributed this to the patriarchy of some of the movement’s male members. Activist James Farmer later wrote in his 1985 autobiography that sexism in the press contributed to the erasure of Height’s leadership. “[W]omen were everywhere in the movement,” Farmer wrote. “Yet most of the bows were taken by men. Dorothy Height’s presence at CUCRL helped to change that.”

After the March on Washington, Height redoubled her efforts to advocate for the rights of women and their roles in racial and social justice organizing, recalling in a November 13, 1979 speech to first Scholarly Conference on Black Women how “women became much more aware and much more aggressive in facing up to sexism in our dealings with the male leadership in the movement.”
Her achievements, during and after the civil rights movement, were manifold: She became the first director of the YWCA’s Center for Racial Justice, supporting voter registration efforts and fostering open dialogue and communication between Black and white women in the South; established the Women’s Center for Education and Career Advancement in New York City; and cofounded the National Women’s Political Caucus, with Gloria Steinem, Shirley Chisholm, Betty Friedan. In 1986, Height launched the National Black Family Reunion, an annual celebration of Black family and culture that is still ongoing today, as the Midwest Black Family Reunion.
“The Black Family Reunions awaken people to their rights, responsibilities, and opportunities,” Height wrote in her 2003 memoir, Open Wide the Freedom Gates. “We have to lift people up and move them forward so they can conquer their feelings of powerlessness. With the right kind of encouragement, these people could show their brothers and sisters the way.”
As African Americans and women began to achieve greater political power and influence in the 21st century, Height was more widely recognized for her lifetime of service. She was awarded the Presidential Citizens Medal by President Ronald Reagan in 1989, the Presidential Medal of Freedom by President Bill Clinton in 1994, and the Congressional Gold Medal by President George W. Bush in 2004. On January 20, 2009, Height witnessed another historic moment in the movement as she was seated at a place of honor to witness the inauguration of nation’s first African American president, Barack Obama.
She received three dozen honorary doctorates, from Harvard, Princeton, and Tuskegee, among others. In 2004, Barnard—the school that had refused to admit her 75 years earlier—named Height as an “honorary alumna.”
Height’s lasting legacy
Height passed away on April 20, 2010, at age 98. President Barack Obama ordered U.S. flags to be flown at half-mast and eulogized Height as “the godmother of the civil rights movement and a hero to so many Americans.”
“We remember her for all she did over a lifetime, behind the scenes, to broaden the movement’s reach. To shine a light on stable families and tight-knit communities. To make us see the drive for civil rights and women’s rights not as a separate struggle, but as part of a larger movement to secure the rights of all humanity, regardless of gender, regardless of race, regardless of ethnicity,” Obama said in his 2010 eulogy.
Dorothy Height committed her life to supporting economic empowerment, greater access to education, political engagement, and highlighting the intersectionality of race and gender. Working to bring about a more moral and compassionate nation, Height left behind a model for generations of activists and organizers to come.
“We African American women seldom do just what we want to do, but always what we have to do,” Height’s Congressional Gold Medal reads. “I am grateful to have been in a time and place where I could be a part of what was needed.”