Wednesday would have been my late husband’s 90th birthday. Herman Badillo, who died in 2014, dedicated a lifetime of public service to New York’s working-class and minority families. Yet the city has not only failed to memorialize him, in some cases it is even now undoing the reforms he championed.

Born in Puerto Rico in 1929, he lost both of his parents to a tuberculosis epidemic when he was still a boy. This tragic beginning impressed on his soul the determination and compassion for the less fortunate that marked his ­career. At age 11, he arrived in New York, unable to speak a word of English. He went on to graduate with honors from City College and to earn a law degree from Brooklyn Law School, where he was class valedictorian.

He was the first Puerto Rican elected Bronx borough president, the first Puerto Rican deputy mayor and the first Puerto Rican elected to the US House of Representatives. He understood racism on a personal level — which is why, among other accomplishments, he was a principal sponsor of the 1974 Voting Rights Act, aimed at eradicating discriminatory election practices.

Herman wasn’t afraid to stand alone when he believed the cause was right. Much as he fought overt racism, he also took on the more subtle, insidious form that prevailed among even well-intentioned progressives — the soft bigotry of low expectations. He knew the way out of poverty was education. Thus, Herman vehemently ­opposed so-called social promotion in public schools.

As he told City Journal in a 1992 interview, “When I came from ­Puerto Rico and began going to school in East Harlem, I thought America was very strange. In ­Puerto Rico if you did your work, you passed; if you didn’t, you flunked. Here if you do your work, you pass; if you don’t, you pass anyway — it’s called social promotion.”

Acutely aware of the harm that such practices do to low-income children of color, Herman established a series of educational ­assessments at each grade level to make sure kids were prepared to advance to the next grade.

Yet today’s watered-down assessments and declining graduation standards, at both the state and city levels, suggest that social promotion is back in all but name.

The same can be said for the backsliding at CUNY. As a trustee and chairman of the board of the university, he raised the alarm about ­so-called open admissions: The university was accepting anyone with a high school diploma, no matter how woefully unprepared for college-level work, and therefore likely to be flunked or socially promoted.

The university had to change course, he warned: “If college students aren’t really learning and are getting phony college degrees, that’s not helping either the students or society.” His advocacy led to crucial reforms, including the adoption of remedial courses to make sure admitted students could do college-level academic work — without undercutting black and Hispanic enrollment.

Yet here, too, the city is betraying Herman’s legacy. As Politico reported this month, CUNY leaders now wish to move away from testing newly admitted community college students into remedial courses.

To add insult to injury, the city has yet to do anything to honor this Latino leader.

Five years ago, Mayor Bill de Blasio didn’t attend Herman’s funeral; he was working out at the gym. People from both sides of the aisle, ­including those who had disagreed with Herman on policy ­issues, came to pay their respects.

At the time, I suggested to the mayor that the city should rename the Third Avenue Bridge after Herman. The bridge connects East Harlem, where Herman ­began his career as a Kennedy Democrat, to the Bronx, where he served as a borough president and a member of Congress — a fitting metaphor for making connections.

The mayor, after resisting for years, finally said I had his backing but added that I needed to get the approval of the City Council on my own. We all know that a Democratic mayor and a Democratic council could have accomplished this if they wanted. Another possibility is renaming for Herman the CUNY Graduate Center, built during his tenure as board chairman. Gov. Andrew Cuomo, I welcome your help with that.

Here’s hoping the mayor and the City Council finally do right by a man who rendered half a century of service to the city. Herman Badillo’s luminous legacy must endure.

Gail Badillo is a retired public school teacher.