When Ms. Stefanie Esparza talks about Escuela de Guadalupe, she isn’t just describing a workplace—she’s tracing the arc of her family’s life. More than two decades ago, Stefanie first walked through Escuela’s doors as a mother. Her husband, Arturo, had just completed his student teaching here and joined the faculty. Their four children would follow: the older three finishing fifth grade at Escuela before moving on to middle school (this was before Escuela offered a middle school), and their youngest staying through eighth grade. What kept the Esparza family rooted? “The community, the culture—it’s celebrated,” she says. “I wanted to be a part of that, too.”
Back in her own public-school days in Denver’s east side, Stefanie didn’t feel seen.
“Our culture or our heritage—who we are—was uncelebrated,” she recalls.
At Escuela, she experienced the opposite: a place where every child’s language, traditions, and family story matter. That contrast lit a spark. Watching her own children thrive and hearing Arturo’s classroom stories, Stefanie realized she didn’t just want to support the mission—she wanted to live it.
“That’s why I went to school and became a teacher,” she says. “I wanted all children to know they are accepted, appreciated, special, and cared for.”
From Escuela Mom to Bilingual Kindergarten Teacher
Pursuing that dream while raising four children wasn’t easy. But it was intentional. When her oldest, Beatriz, graduated high school and headed to college, Stefanie enrolled at MSU Denver to finish her degree—in early childhood education—often finding herself on campus at the same time as her daughter, Belicia.
“I couldn’t push my children to go do something I hadn’t done yet,” she says. “I needed to also earn my college degree because I was going to push my kids to go to college.”
Stefanie returned to Escuela first as a student teacher in third grade, then as a first/second grade teacher. She loved both. Still, something kept tugging her toward kindergarten. Now, four years in as a bilingual kindergarten teacher, she’s certain she’s found her place.
“They come in and they learn so much within the first year,” she says. “I want them to know that they got it, that they can do hard things.”
Stefanie says there’s joy in witnessing the fundamentals take root—letter sounds clicking, words becoming sentences, ideas turning into writing.
“What I teach them, I get to see it develop and flourish right here with me.”
Teaching With Empathy and High Expectations
Stefanie’s bilingual kindergarten classroom is gently structured for courage. She remembers being a quiet elementary student who dreaded being called on, even when she knew the answer. That memory shapes her practice.
“I give them thinking time,” she explains. “Everyone’s thinking about the same question. I’m going to count to three, and it doesn’t matter who—but everyone has a chance to think. That way they’re not cold-called.”
By replacing surprise with predictability, Stefanie leads with empathy—and sees confidence bloom.
That empathy extends to the whole child. Some years, social-emotional needs lead and academics follow; other years, the balance flips. Either way, Stefanie moves at the pace of trust.
“You have to nurture the whole child,” she says. In kindergarten, that means modeling consent and care in the smallest moments—asking before a hug, noticing how they push in a chair, rehearsing what kindness looks and sounds like.
“I really like our values here: to be kind, respectful, and responsible,” she says. “We use them all day.”
Celebrating Culture, Language, and Values
As a dual-language kindergarten educator, Stefanie celebrates the brain-building power of bilingualism and the widening of the world that comes with it.
“It makes them smarter—like their brains are capable of more because they are learning everything in two languages,” she says with a smile.
Stefanie never loses sight of the promise in front of her: 5-year-olds who are “open, happy, willing to learn,” and already carrying everything they need.
“When students know they are deeply seen, when their cultures and languages are not only welcomed but centered, when they are held to high expectations because they are believed in — that is educational excellence,” she says, adding, “They’re born with everything they need. They already have it. My job is to help them believe it—then practice it—until it becomes who they are.”
Why has she stayed at Escuela as a mom and now as a teacher? The answer is layered: the way the school honors culture and language; the values that animate every day; the partnership with families; and the chance to witness “giant leaps” in little people. But at the center is the same conviction that led her back to college: example matters. Stefanie models what she wants her students to know in their bones—that they are capable, that they belong, and that they can do hard things.
