10 Inspirational Hispanic Leaders Who Deserve Films About Their Lives

Huerta is the inspiration behind many ballads and murals. As a child, she learned the importance of diversity and civil rights from her mother, an owner of a hotel who often welcomed laborers and farm families, sometimes for free. Huerta eventually left her career as a grammar school teacher to focus on economic injustice. She founded the Stockton chapter of the Community Service Organization, co-founded the Agricultural Workers Association, and, alongside César Chávez, co-founded the National Farm Workers Association.

Musician Joan Baez helped start the 1960s counterculture in music alongside greats like Bob Dylan, and recorded numerous folk songs that dealt with social issues. In 1956, Baez, then 15, heard Martin Luther King, Jr. speak about nonviolence and civil rights, which started her lifelong commitment to political and social activism. She quickly became one of the most outspoken voices of the 1960s and was instrumental in founding the U.S. chapter of Amnesty International.

For a number of people the “American Dream” means a white picket fence, with a significant other and two and a half children. For men like Pedro del Valle, it means a great deal more than that. He was born in Puerto Rico while it was still under Spanish rule, and moved to Maryland when he was seven years old. He served in WWI, the Banana Wars, and WWII as a proud member of the Marines. As the first Hispanic to reach the rank of Lieutenant General, he fought amazingly heated battles, and led men into such successful battles that no one of them could be singled out for commendation. Instead, each man was given a letter of commendation by del Valle.

Sotomayor is a woman who should be on the list of heroes for everyone. Politics aside, Sotomayor has an underdog story that’s movie-worthy: she was born and raised in the Bronx to Puerto Rican parents, and eventually made her way to Princeton, where she graduated summa cum laude before moving on to Yale Law School. Now, Sotomayor is the third woman serving as Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, and the first Hispanic.

If Disney ever wants another rags-to-riches story a la Cinderella, but with a woman who was a certified badass and fought racism her whole life, then they should look no further than Acosta Bañuelos. Although she was born in the U.S., she was deported to Mexico during the Great Depression at the age of eight. Married at 16, and with two children by 18, her husband deserted her and even though she couldn’t speak English. She returned to the U.S. with only $7 to her name. From there, she worked in a factory until she saved $400 and opened her own business, a tortilla factory named Romana’s Mexican Food Products, Inc., with a tortilla machine, a fan, and a corn grinder, which still exists today.

In 1963, Acosta helped co-found the Pan-American bank to help Hispanics who wanted to start their own businesses. Six years later, she was appointed to chairwoman of the bank’s Board of Directors. This drew President Nixon’s attention, as he had wanted to diversify his administration, and asked the Republican National Hispanic Assembly for nominees for open positions. Acosta Bañuelos volunteered for U.S. Treasurer, but didn’t expect his appointment. Suffice it to say that soon, dollar bills were printed with the new treasurer’s signature.

The Medal of Honor, the nation’s highest military award for valor, was given posthumously to Harold Gonsalves. In high school, he was an exceptionally well-rounded student. He participated in football, baseball, track, and even sang tenor in the glee club. He quit school early so he could help earn money as a grocery store clerk. It was just an early sign that he’d do anything to help others who needed him—even putting his own best interest aside.

Knowing that he was destined for more, he enlisted in the Marines during WWII. In Okinawa, he was a member of a forward observer team of eight men. When he and his team had to advance to the front lines, the officer in charge took Gonsalves, acting as Scout Sergeant, and one other man. They advanced under heavy fire, and their job was to lay telephone lines for communication with the artillery battalion. Then, a Japanese grenade landed a foot from the three men. Without a second thought, Gonsalves jumped on the grenade and took the full explosion, allowing his Officer and fellow solider to finish their mission.

Ochoa has logged some 900 hours in space. She traveled four million miles—in one mission. She also became the first Hispanic woman to go to space when she served aboard the shuttle Discovery in 1993. What’s more, Ochoa helped pioneer spacecraft technology, and is a co-owner of three patents for an optical inspection system, an optical object recognition method, and a method for noise removal in images.

Ochoa is now the director of the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center as only the second woman and first Hispanic to hold that job title, teaching other astronauts how to do their job and be equally as cool as her.

A champion for Central America, Alegría shared her voice through poems, novels, nonfiction, and testimony. Born in Nicaragua to Salvadoran parents who were exiled because of their human rights work, she in turn was also exiled from El Salvador for her revolutionary poetry. Alegría’s words, and working alongside the Sandinista National Liberation Front, helped overthrow the dictator Anastasio Somoza Debayle and change the Nicaraguan government. She returned to Nicaragua in 1985 to aid in the reconstruction and lives there today, at the age of 90.

Gabaldon is one of the greatest men of the “greatest generation,” and his fitting nickname is already the title of his should-be movie, “The Pied Piper of Saipan.” Gabaldon, a Mexican-American born in Los Angeles, went out on his own during the night, and using his Japanese, convinced two soldiers to surrender. When he returned to camp he was reamed out for leaving his post, and putting himself and others in danger. However, the next night Gabaldon went out again. This time, however, he brought back 50 Japanese soldiers. After that, he was allowed to be a “Lone Wolf.” He not only brought Japanese soldiers to Americans, but he ensured their lives.

Nine years before the groundbreaking case of Brown v. Board of Education, there was Mendez v. Westminster. The 1946 federal court case challenged racial segregation in Orange County, California. It was ruled in an en blanc (meaning every judge of the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit heard the case) that segregation of Mexican and Mexican-American students into “Mexican schools” was unconstitutional.

When Sylvia Mendez was eight years old, she went with her aunt, Sally Vidaurri, along with her brothers and cousins, to enroll in the 17th Street Elementary School. The school officials told her aunt that because her cousins had light skin, they could attend, but Sylvia and her brothers weren’t allowed to enroll because of their dark skin and Hispanic surnames. Vidaurri left the school with all the children and went to her brother, Gonzalo Mendez.

When Gonzalo Mendez’s three children were denied entry into their local Westminster school district, Gonzalo and his wife Felicita started leading a community battle. While he talked to community leaders and fellow parents, she ran the family agricultural business. He funded a lawsuit with five other Mexican-American fathers, and claimed that at least 5000 children of Mexican ancestry were being forced to attend “Mexican schools.” The Mendez’s undoubtedly paved the way for integration.