The Labor Department's Hall of Honor recognizes men and women -

Tom Perez’s words—"The Labor Department’s Hall of Honor recognizes men and women—like Cesar Chavez, Helen Keller, and the Workers of the Memphis Sanitation Strike—who have made invaluable contributions to the welfare of American workers"—shine like an inscription upon the walls of history. They are not merely about awards or ceremonies, but about remembrance: the sacred duty to honor those whose toil and sacrifice lifted countless others from darkness into light. To carve their names into the Hall of Honor is to affirm that labor, dignity, and justice are not fleeting struggles, but eternal pillars of a just society.

In naming Cesar Chavez, Perez recalls the shepherd of farm workers, who organized the voiceless and gave strength to the weary hands bent beneath the sun. Chavez’s marches and fasts were not acts of defiance alone, but of love—love for the dignity of work and for the humanity of those who labored unseen. His name stands as a torch in the Hall of Honor, reminding us that justice begins in the fields as much as in the courts.

By invoking Helen Keller, Perez reminds us that true warriors are not always found on battlefields. Blind and deaf, she overcame silence and darkness to speak for labor rights, for women’s suffrage, for the disabled, and for the oppressed. Her presence in the Hall of Honor testifies that the fight for dignity is not bound by body or circumstance, but by spirit. She proved that the strength of a single voice, once awakened, can echo louder than the roar of tyrants.

And in honoring the Workers of the Memphis Sanitation Strike, Perez lifts the memory of men who carried society’s burdens on their backs, yet were treated as less than human. In 1968, they marched with the cry “I Am a Man,” demanding fair wages and humane treatment. Their strike drew the support of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., whose final days were bound to their cause. Their struggle, etched into the Hall of Honor, stands as a reminder that the fight for labor rights is also the fight for human dignity itself.

Thus, the Hall of Honor becomes more than a place—it becomes a shrine to courage, a temple of memory. It teaches that progress is written not by the powerful alone, but by the hands of ordinary men and women who refused to bow. Perez’s words call us to see that we, too, are heirs of their labor, and that the welfare we enjoy is built on the sacrifices of those who came before.

Let the generations remember: to honor the past is to guard the future. The Hall of Honor is not merely for the dead, but for the living—for in its stories we find not only gratitude but instruction, showing us that the path of justice, though hard, is always worth walking.