In a school built on relationships, language, and belonging, some stories feel like they’ve been unfolding for decades—because they have. Miss Karina Acosta-Ferrera’s journey with Escuela de Guadalupe began long before she had her own classroom. It started in 2000, when she applied for a literacy tutor position at Escuela… and didn’t get it. Her husband, Jose, did. There was only one opening, and they both went for it. He was hired; she wasn’t.
That almost could have been the end of the story. Instead, it became the first chapter of something bigger: a family that would eventually live and breathe Escuela as students, educators, and community members all at once. As Karina puts it plainly, “We’re an Escuela family.”
Why dual language mattered from the very beginning
Karina was born in Mexico and moved to Denver when she was 11. Spanish has always been her home language, and protecting that connection became central when she imagined the kind of education she wanted for her children.
Even back when her son Iker was little, Karina was drawn to Escuela for one defining reason: dual language. She didn’t just want her kids to speak Spanish conversationally; she wanted them to be able to read it, write it, and think academically in it, so their language and cultural identity stayed whole as they grew.
What makes this especially powerful is the context of that era. At the time, dual-language programs were rare, and many schools still operated under the belief that children needed to “lose” their native language in order to learn English. Karina saw something different at Escuela: a model that honors both languages, and therefore the full identity of every child.
From parent, to part-time, to a life at Escuela
After not getting the job at Escuela, Karina built a successful business in the insurance industry. She was good at it. It was lucrative. It also wasn’t fulfilling.
When she talks about those years, there’s no bitterness, just clarity. She remembers watching Jose come home from school happy after teaching, and realizing she wanted that kind of meaning in her own life. “I would rather make less money and enjoy what I’m doing,” she said. So she made a bold decision: she sold her business and chose a different path, even knowing it would require a lifestyle shift for her family.
By then, their son was old enough to start kindergarten at Escuela. And not long after, as he moved into the primary grades, Karina found her way back into the building, not as an applicant, but as a member of the team.
By the time Iker was in 1st grade, Karina began working at Escuela as a part-time PE teacher and tutor. When he entered 2nd grade, she shifted into a full-time tutoring role, supporting the 1st/2nd grade English component. She stayed in tutoring, serving students, teachers, and families until the 2024–2025 academic year, when she stepped into a new chapter: becoming the 1st/2nd grade English teacher with her own classroom. This is now her second year leading as a classroom teacher.
Over the years, she has served Escuela in many roles: PE teacher, tutor, substitute, classroom support… whatever was needed, whenever it was needed.
A whole family in one car (and a lot of late afternoons)
A few years after Iker started attending Escuela, Karina and Jose’s daughter Camila started kindergarten at Escuela, too. That’s when the story becomes not just about work, but about family rhythm.
For a season of life, the four of them rode to school together in one car, parents working, kids learning. Karina still smiles when she remembers it. And she’s honest about the reality, too: Iker and Camila stayed late after school often, waiting while their parents wrapped up the day’s work. It’s the kind of behind-the-scenes detail that tells you everything about commitment: Escuela wasn’t a place they attended. It was a place they built their family life around.
“Sometimes we even had dinner in the teacher’s lounge because we knew it would be too late by the time we got home,” she recalls.
Both Iker and Camila ultimately graduated from 8th grade at Escuela.
From supporting other teachers to leading a classroom
For the past 10 years, Karina supported the English side of 1st/2nd grade. Now she’s leading it and she’s the first to tell you: it’s a lot of work.
“I really appreciate having the previous years to observe and learn from the teachers I worked with,” she says. “Still, it’s not until now that I understand the extra responsibilities and work involved.”
She’s also quick to point out that this work doesn’t happen in isolation. In Escuela’s dual-language model, 1st and 2nd grade are structured with two lead teachers: one who teaches entirely in Spanish and one entirely in English, and two teacher assistants who support literacy and language development instruction. Students switch classrooms every few weeks, and they never repeat content. That means instruction is intentionally coordinated, and communication between teachers is constant.
Miss Karina teaches the English classroom. Miss Maribel leads the Spanish classroom, while Miss Jessica and Miss Maria serve as their assistants. And, says Karina, teamwork is everything.
“Where did we leave off?” The coordination behind the scenes
Every three weeks, students switch between the English and Spanish classrooms. And before every switch, Miss Karina and Miss Maribel have to align:
- Where are we in math?
- What’s the next unit in science or social studies?
- How are we pacing religion?
- What does each student need next?
As Karina explains, the four teachers are constantly checking in: “Where did we leave off?” Because the goal isn’t just bilingual exposure, it’s coherent academic progress in both languages, as students move through the same standards-based content without overlap or gaps.
And yes, she’ll admit what every parent and staff member has felt at some point: the schedule can be confusing.
Even after years at Escuela and even after raising two children through this model, Karina still sometimes laughs about how easy it is to lose track of whether she has the first graders or second graders in English at a given moment. The kids know exactly where they’re supposed to be. The adults? Sometimes they have to ask the kids.
On top of that three-week classroom switch, there’s another layer: Karina and her aide, Miss Jessica, switch literacy groups every two weeks. So just as Karina gets comfortable with a certain level of writing expectations, the group changes and she recalibrates, toning it down for younger writers or stepping it up for older ones.
Her takeaway? It’s a lot, but it keeps her engaged. “It’s not boring,” she says with a laugh.
And when asked about her partnership with Jessica, she doesn’t hesitate.
“We are a good team. I’m not sure my job is doable without her support. At least not if I want to be able to offer the best version of myself to my students.”
Support that builds confidence, and gives teachers room to create
Karina follows Colorado standards, but she also deeply values the freedom Escuela gives teachers to deliver that content in ways that fit their students.
If a required book feels dull, she can choose a different one that she knows will connect better. If a math lesson calls for drawing shapes, she might have students build shapes with hands-on materials instead, because engagement matters, and learning sticks when it’s active.
“They give us freedom,” she explains, as long as students are learning what they’re supposed to learn.
That balance of high expectations paired with professional trust is part of what makes her stay.
“I love it here.”
When Karina says, “I love it here,” she doesn’t mean “I love my job.” She means something closer to identity.
She describes Escuela as feeling like family. She feels valued no matter what role she’s in. She feels heard. And she feels connected to her roots through the cultural and faith traditions that are not “extra,” but integrated into the life of the school: celebrations like Posadas and Independence Day that make her feel “homey,” grounded, and seen.
And in a world where so many educators feel stretched thin or unseen, Karina’s perspective is striking: this is a place where she has a voice.
What she hopes students carry with them—long after 2nd grade
Ask Karina what she wants students to take from her classroom, and her answer isn’t a list of skills. It’s a feeling:
- That learning can be fun, even when it’s hard.
- That they can be themselves.
- That they will be heard.
- That their thoughts matter—even when they’re young.
- That if they’re confused, they should never be afraid to ask.
She wants them to know she will keep trying until they understand, whether it takes five explanations, ten explanations, a new strategy, a different angle… whatever it takes.
“If I push or ask for more it is only because I believe they can do it,” she explains, “even if sometimes they don’t believe it themselves.”
And of course, she hopes they remember a small detail that feels exactly like 1st and 2nd grade should feel: “Miss Karina loves the donuts-on-birthday days.”
But underneath the joke is something tender and true. She hopes students always come back—when they’re in 3rd grade, when they’re in middle school, when they’re graduates who still remember where it all started. She wants them to stop by, say hello, and stay connected to the people who helped shape them.
Because to Miss Karina, Escuela isn’t just where kids learn. It’s where they belong.
