For Cindy Prado-Gutierrez, giving back isn’t a resumé-builder—it’s a way of life. Raised in a family where faith, education, and community were part of the daily rhythm, she grew up understanding that generosity could take many forms: cooking for church events, helping families in hard times, or offering time and leadership when needed most. That ethic has guided her through a global career in human resources, a lifetime of parish and volunteer involvement, and nearly 25 years of steady support for Escuela de Guadalupe.
Helping Escuela Take Root
Cindy and her late husband, Tony Prado-Gutierrez, were among the first to support Fr. Tom Prag as he listened to families in Northwest Denver and began imagining what would become Escuela de Guadalupe. She recalls those early moments vividly—especially Fr. Tom’s “blunt honesty” about how lost he felt at first with his broad assignment, which was to connect with the Latino community in Denver.
“He said, ‘I don’t know why [the Jesuits] sent me of all people here. I don’t speak Spanish. I’ve never had to establish myself in an unfamiliar neighborhood like this. I don’t even know what I should be doing for the community.’”
But as Fr. Tom listened, what he heard was clear: the community wanted a high-quality, faith-rooted education for their children. A school began to take shape—one that would be Catholic, dual-language, and deeply grounded in family and community.
Cindy and Tony didn’t just cheer from the sidelines—they showed up. They served on an early leadership council and offered their neighborhood clubhouse in Littleton for organizing meetings.
“It didn’t happen too often,” Cindy laughs, “but he knew how to save money, and we could get the clubhouse for free.”
Why Escuela Matters
Escuela’s vision spoke directly to Cindy’s values. Its bilingual curriculum, Catholic foundation, and commitment to family involvement weren’t just ideals—they were necessities for a school serving a diverse, working-class Latino community.
“It was never just about the kids,” she reflects. “It had to be about the families, the teachers, the neighborhood—everyone together.”
That belief in the power of education runs deep in her family. Her mother, now 94, raised five children and later returned to school to earn both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree.
“She showed us you don’t have to do things in a certain order,” Cindy says. “You can get your education at any time, in any way, and it gives you choices.”
Cindy’s own path included a bachelor’s in psychology and a master’s in educational counseling, but her career took shape in human resources at Gates Corporation. She traveled extensively—throughout the U.S, Mexico, the U.K.—building cross-cultural understanding along the way.
“People are the same everywhere,” she says. “It’s the human stories that stay with you.”
At Gates, she focused on employee benefits, supporting families through illness, crisis, and transition. “That’s where I learned the most. It was humbling.”
Giving, for Cindy and Tony, was rooted in tradition—not always financial, but always active.
“My grandparents couldn’t give money,” she says, “but they gave everything else—especially through the church. We were always in the kitchen, always serving together.”
Bilingualism and Belonging
Cindy’s belief in bilingual education is deeply personal. Her father, held back in school for speaking only Spanish, made sure his own children prioritized English first.
“He never forgot that pain,” she says. ““It hurt his heart. So, when he had children, he made sure we learned English first. But we lost our Spanish along the way. Now I’m trying to bring it back.”
That loss, and the effort to reclaim it, aligns with Escuela’s mission to develop students who are not only bilingual by third grade, but also culturally grounded and spiritually formed.
“Escuela forms children not just for the future, but for today,” she says. “They’ll remember their teachers, their classmates, the values they learned. It’s a formation of the heart.”
Still Showing Up
Cindy now volunteers with the Ignatian Volunteer Corps, serving refugees through the African Community Center.
“They’re resilient,” she says. “And they speak multiple languages—many more than we do. Language is survival.”
Despite her busy life, Cindy remains close to Escuela. On a recent visit, she joined a conversation with fifth-grade students.
“They were so comfortable, so curious. They didn’t know me, but they were just present. That’s Escuela,” she says. “That’s what it does for kids. They learn how presence is needed to receive grace.”
