When people hear the words “Black history,” names like Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglass, Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks often come to mind. These iconic trailblazers risked everything to help pave the way for future generations—also inspiring countless “everyday” heroes who made their own sacrifices to stand up, speak out, advance civil rights and create lasting change in communities across the nation.
Dolores Hawks Tisdale, who passed away late last year at the age of 89, was one of these selfless forces of change. And, as the mother of Nicole Tisdale, MS, BCBA—Director of the Social Skills program in Autism Therapy Services at Easterseals Southern California—she continues to inspire.
To celebrate Black History Month, Nicole—who credits Dolores with igniting her own desire to help others, both personally and through her career—shares her personal reflections on what she learned from her mom.
What does it mean to be Black history? For many, it is a title bestowed long after the work is done. For my mother, Dolores Hawks Tisdale, it was a truth she lived daily—quietly, boldly and with unwavering conviction. As a Black woman working in the early 1960s, at the height of the Civil Rights Movement, she stepped into a purpose that would transform the lives of countless African American men and women seeking opportunity.
Growing up, I witnessed this purpose firsthand. My mother’s work at the Urban League of Union County, NJ, was more than a job—it was a calling. In 2021, when I asked her about those years, she described herself as shy. Yet the stories that followed revealed a woman who moved through the world with remarkable courage.
At the Urban League, my mother helped people secure employment, coached young men and women on professional presence and advocated fiercely for fair wages and equitable hiring. She worked with laborers supporting families and recent college graduates unsure of their next steps. One young biochemist, discouraged and uncertain, returned to thank my mother for believing in her talent and guiding her toward a successful career at Schering-Plough, a leading pharmaceutical company. Stories like this are not rare, they are the legacy she built.
My mother confronted discriminatory practices head-on, contacting affirmative action offices whenever she sensed injustice. Her message to employers was direct and uncompromising: “I send you people who will get the job done. I don’t have time to play. People need jobs.” Her reputation grew so widely that employment offices in Elizabeth, NJ, began telling job seekers, “Go see Mrs. Tisdale.”
Despite receiving lucrative offers from corporations, she refused positions at organizations that denied opportunities to qualified African Americans. She believed that by accepting such roles, she would silence her purpose—and that was never an option.
My mother didn’t just speak names in rooms. She walked people through the door, pulled out the chair and insisted they take their rightful seat. Her passion, faith and conviction shaped my siblings and me. My own boldness—my own career—exists because she demanded I take my place at the table.
Dolores Hawks Tisdale was compassionate, wise and unrelenting in her pursuit of what is right. She is Black history. And because of her, I am living Black history.