What do you want to be when you grow up? For some, that question becomes a guiding light from the earliest years of childhood, offering clarity and direction that shape an entire life. My husband, Jeff, was one of those fortunate individuals. Even at four years old, wearing cowboy boots and dreaming big, his path seemed already determined. That early sense of purpose fueled a remarkable career defined by strong leadership across classrooms, athletic fields, and school districts—marked by championships, academic achievements, and lasting impact.
My own journey, however, took a distinctly different route. Rather than following a straight and predetermined path, mine has been defined by a winding, beautiful, and often challenging process of discovering where I truly belonged and what truly mattered to me.
Growing up as one of seven children in a Spanish-speaking household, my identity naturally spanned two distinct worlds. My parents, dual citizens with deep roots in Mexico, held tightly to our cultural heritage even as our family navigated Chicago’s snowy, unfamiliar landscape. My mother, a brilliant educator in her own right, profoundly shaped our home life through her values and expectations. She taught me early on that excellence was expected, and that resilience was not merely encouraged—it was essential to survival and success.
I vividly remember my first day of school in the United States—a bitter January morning that felt overwhelming. Walking into fifth grade as a nine-year-old, I was gripped by fear of the unknown and the language barrier that made everything feel impossible. I constantly scrambled to catch up academically and socially. Yet, in that struggle and discomfort, something important was planted deep within me. Balancing household chores and caregiving responsibilities as a child navigating two cultures, I developed an insatiable curiosity about the human experience and what drives people forward.
Why do we act as we do? Why do we speak as we do? These fundamental questions became my internal compass, guiding my decisions for decades to come. This curiosity led me from studying psychology at The Ohio State University toward education, where I discovered that compassion could become a vocation and a calling. My mother’s foresight—her belief that my empathy and ability to connect with others were my greatest asset—became the bedrock on which I built my career and life’s work.
My path was rarely linear or predictable. It wound through Tennessee, through years of teaching in various settings, through the heartbreak of an abusive relationship, and through the quiet, stubborn strength required to raise two children alone while maintaining my dreams. Yet through every unexpected twist and turn, my deep faith anchored me. In the silence of those hardest moments, I heard the clearest direction and felt the strongest sense of purpose.
Everything I have lived through—the transitions between cultures and communities, the cultural shifts and adaptations, the genuine joys alongside the profound struggles—has eventually led me back to my first love: the small voices, the songs, and the stories of young children. For the last fifteen years, I have found my deepest purpose in a classroom that values the beauty and power of biliteracy and celebrates the ability to read and write in two languages.
My book, Biliteracy as a Superpower: A Guide for Kindergarten Teachers and Families, represents the culmination of that entire journey. It is far more than a career retrospective or professional summary; it is a testament to an important truth: while our answer to “what we want to be” may shift throughout our lives, our sense of “who we are” only deepens with time and experience. This is my heart, written openly for yours.