Marian Anderson’s life was filled with moments where she was told “no” because of her race — but that didn’t stop her.

Anderson was a Philadelphia native, born in the city in 1897. She was a talented singer and joined the Union Baptist Church choir at age 6. She would start performing with the People’s Chorus when she was 10 years old.

That was the start of a life of music; a life that wasn't easy.

Anderson was raised by John and Annie Anderson. When she was 12, her father was seriously injured while working at the Reading Terminal in Philadelphia. He died not long afterward.

Anderson graduated from Stanton Grammar School in 1912 but the deaths of both her father and her grandfather — himself a formerly enslaved person — left her family in a difficult financial position.

There wasn't enough money for her to attend high school or to take voice lessons. But Anderson had found her passion and wouldn't give it up. Community support eventually brought in enough money for further lessons and for high school.

In 1921, after she graduated from South Philadelphia High School, she wanted to continue her musical education. She applied for admission to the Philadelphia Music Academy, but was told that the school didn't admit Black students.

Instead, she continued with private lessons. Her high school principal introduced her to acclaimed vocal teacher Giuseppe Boghetti and that relationship would go on to shape her singing career.

By 1923, she had recorded two songs for the Victor company, including one that would be long associated with her, “Deep River.”

That traditional spiritual asks listeners “Oh, don’t you want to go to that gospel feast,

“That promised land where all is peace?”

A few years later, Anderson would win a singing competition and get to perform with the New York Philharmonic. Her career progressed, but slowly, and, in 1928, she gave a recital at Carnegie Hall in New York City.

In 1929, after a recital in Chicago, she was awarded $1,500 to allow her to study with vocal teachers in Berlin. She would spend the next several years touring both Europe and America and making an increasing name for herself.

An article in Smithsonian Magazine explained what happened.

“Soon, 'Marian Mania' broke out all over Europe, but in particular in Scandinavia,” according to the article. “She soloed for King Gustav of Sweden and King Christian of Denmark, adding fuel to the growing fire of desire for her performances, which covered everything from German lieder, to Italian opera, to Russian folk songs, to traditional African-American spirituals.”

But despite her many accolades, Anderson found touring in the United States difficult. Segregation often meant she couldn't even find a place to stay while touring.

An invitation to sing at the White House by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and first lady Eleanor Roosevelt in 1936 — Anderson was the first Black performer to do so — didn’t change that.

The racism she encountered ended up putting her in contact with physicist and activist Albert Einstein. Einstein lived in Princeton, N.J., and would regularly let Anderson stay at his home while she was touring.

As her 1993 obituary in the New York Times put it: “Even after her artistry was recognized in her homeland, she faced racial prejudice on a more mundane level. Well into her career, she was turned away at restaurants and hotels.”

And despite her fame and her global reach, she regularly had to perform in venues that barred Black people from attending.

In 1939, racial prejudice would lead to one of Anderson's most famous concerts.

“In 1939, when promoters were attempting to find her a suitable venue in Washington, D.C., capable of holding her expanding audience, they approached management at DAR Constitution Hall, the largest concert hall in Washington, D.C.,” according to the Daughters of the American Revolution website.

“Their request for a concert on April 9 was denied, reportedly due to a previous booking on the same date by the National Symphony Orchestra. While it was true there was another booking on April 9, the management also gave another reason for Marian Anderson's rejection. Namely, there was a policy in place at Constitution Hall at the time which allowed only white artists to perform in the auditorium.”

When word came out of the denial, it led to massive public outcry. In part because of the advocacy of Eleanor Roosevelt, Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes arranged for an open-air concert at the Lincoln Memorial on April 9, 1939, which was Easter Sunday.

More than 75,000 people attended and Anderson opened the concert with a rendition of “My Country 'Tis of Thee.”

The furor over the DAR's denial led to a reckoning in the group. In 1943, just four years later, Anderson would perform onstage at Constitution Hall, and would do so before an integrated audience and at the invitation of the DAR.

A statement on the DAR website points out the changes that came after 1939.

“The beauty of her voice, amplified by her courage and grace, brought attention to the eloquence of the many voices urging our nation to overcome prejudice and intolerance,” the statement reads. “It sparked change not just in the DAR but in all of America. Our organization truly wishes that history could be re-written, but knowing that it cannot, we are proud to note that DAR has learned from the past.

“DAR welcomed Marian Anderson to Constitution Hall on a number of occasions soon after 1939, including a benefit concert for war relief in 1943. It is also meaningful to us that this notable American chose Constitution Hall as the place where she would launch her farewell American tour in 1964.”

After 1939, Anderson wasn't finished with firsts. Throughout her career she had mostly avoided operatic roles, saying she didn't have the acting experience needed.

But in 1955, she became the first Black performer to sing with the Metropolitan Opera in New York City, another in her long line of firsts.

In 1957, she was the first Black performer to sing at a presidential inauguration, at Dwight Eisenhower's second inauguration. She'd perform again at John F. Kennedy's inauguration in 1961.

Anderson retired from singing in 1965, but her impact continues today.

As her New York Times obituary observed, Anderson, who died at 96, was an inspiration to Black musicians nationwide.

“At age 10, I heard, for the first time, the singing of Marian Anderson on a recording,” the soprano Jessye Norman once said. “I listened, thinking, 'This can't be just a voice, so rich and beautiful.' It was a revelation. And I wept.”