Language of the heart

The children stand in orderly lines across the gymnasium floor to recite the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag. First, a rousing version in English. Then, “en español, niños,” directs Aida Tadeo, principal of Mariposa Academy of Language and Learning.

The children recite the pledge again, with even more gusto: “Yo le doy mi lealtad a la bandera de los Estados Unidos de America … ”

“Buenos días, good morning, children,” says Tadeo, beaming brightly. It’s the first school day in November, and after the pledge, the month begins with the awarding of certificates to the students of the month at Mariposa, Nevada’s only bilingual elementary school. Señora Tadeo calls each name, and students come up to take a certificate from her hands. As a special treat, these kids will get to eat pizza with their warm-hearted principal at lunch time.

“I hope you all like pizza,” Tadeo says. She quizzes the award-winning students on such topics as listening to their teachers and helping others. She speaks mostly in English but occasionally shifts to Spanish for short stretches.

“Do all of you always turn in all of your homework?”

The students nod and reply, “Yes.”

“Are all of you always good friends to others?”

“Yes.”

“That is why you are the students of the month.”

Before the nearly 200 students head off to classes taught in English and in Spanish, Señora Tadeo has one more thing to talk about—the Word of the Week.

“Friendship?” pipes up one student sitting near the front.

“Oh, that’s a good word,” Tadeo says. “We all need a friend in life, so we can start being good friends now.”

Another teacher reminds Tadeo that “friendship” has already been the Word of the Week.

“Ah, yes,” Tadeo says. “Children, do you want to hear the word I was thinking about? It’s excellence, excelencia. That’s when we do our best all the time, even when our teacher is not watching us. Excellence.”

Tadeo tells the story of a shy, quiet boy named Willie to illustrate how bilingual education works. Willie came to Reno from the southern part of Mexico. At age 11, he spoke no English. In most public schools, Willie would either be lost in an English-speaking classroom or put into an English-as-Second-Language group. While learning to speak a new language, he’d be falling behind in other subjects.

At Mariposa, entering students are tested to determine their dominant language, then given the bulk of their instruction—math, science, social studies—in that language. These kinds of skills, Tadeo says, transcend the language barrier.

Tadeo had Willie in a Spanish reading class last year. He was reserved, a good listener who didn’t want to participate. She pulled him aside for a talk.

“I said, ‘I know how you are feeling in a new situation. You need to take advantage of the moment. Grab it and be a risk-taker!’ “

“He said, ‘Señora Tadeo, I don’t think I’ll ever learn English.’ I told him he needed to have ganas. You have to have that feeling that you want to get better.”

This year, Willie is speaking in English quite well.

“He’s a role model who encourages other children to do the same. He shows them that it is possible.”

Tadeo tells students that she didn’t have it easy in school, either.

“Learning did not come easy,” she says. “All I needed was the ganas to get me where I’m going.”

Tadeo has a master’s degree in teaching administration and 30 years of experience with bilingual education as a teacher and a curriculum writer. She came to Reno two years ago seeking “another adventure” before her retirement.

Given her positive, encouraging attitude toward children, it’s easy to see why the Mariposa students feel completely comfortable asking questions of Señora Tadeo or greeting their principal with a hug.

When she talks to kids at the beginning of each day, she deliberately focuses on the improvements students have made rather than lecturing them about shortcomings.

“Thank you for doing such a good job during lunch time by cleaning up after yourselves,” she tells students. “Give yourselves a hand. And thank you for helping to keep the bathroom clean. I know last week we talked about papers on the floor. And no one wants to go into a bathroom that’s messy.”

A girl giggles.

“People who set good examples never complain,” Tadeo continues. “They see something that needs doing, and they do it.”

Tadeo is true to her word when it comes to not complaining, though a few disgruntled words would be understandable, given that Tadeo, students and teachers are still waiting to move across the street to the charter school’s permanent home. Mariposa’s classes, from kindergarten through sixth grade, have been meeting in a city of Reno community center on Neil Road for the past year and a half. The two nearest public elementary schools are Smithridge and Roger Corbett. In the past year, Mariposa’s student body has doubled from 95 to 188 students. Because a charter school receives public funds for operation, tuition is free.

In June, the city of Reno leased to Mariposa (at $1 a year for 50 years) buildings that had been the personnel offices for the Eldorado Hotel Casino on Center Street. The buildings were moved to make room for Bowling Stadium expansion. The buildings are now across from Nevada Hispanic Services, but the school’s still waiting to get the necessary permits to begin renovation.

Tadeo calls the endeavor her own “Mount Everest” and tries to think ahead to the day when the school has already moved across the street.

“I have a vision that one day we’ll be in our permanent site, and someone will ask, ‘How did you overcome all these obstacles so children could succeed?’ “

She will explain how she’s been driven by the thought that the first day a child walks into Mariposa is the first day of that child’s new life.

“It’s a powerful message,” she says. Tadeo makes no excuses for settling for a less-than-excellent outcome. “I’m a go-getter. If I see an opportunity, I go for it. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

The school has few discipline problems, Tadeo says. During a couple of recent visits, the children seemed well-behaved, relaxed and enthusiastic. Some students arrived at school a few minutes late Monday morning, but the late-comers joined classmates quietly and the proceedings continued without any noticeable disruption.

“We can focus on learning, and that’s what makes this school unique,” Tadeo says. “Students know that what they bring to school is valued. We don’t want to be like everybody else. … We all bring something different, and we are all valuable.”

At 5 a.m. each weekday, workers begin putting Mariposa’s classrooms together. Dividers are set up and tables assembled. Chairs are brought out of a storage closet. At 7 a.m., teachers arrive and put the finishing touches on the set-up.

Sara Aguirre, 11, isn’t thrilled about going to school in a gym. Unlike other kids who come to Mariposa with few English skills, she’s attending Mariposa in the hopes of learning Spanish. Her parents took her out of public school after Sara spent a year “learning nothing” in an overcrowded second-grade classroom. She attended Legacy Christian School last year, but the family couldn’t afford tuition for Sara and her sister Hannah this year.

Since a few of the students in her fifth-grade class speak very little English, Sara’s fluency in Spanish is increasing dramatically.

Sara’s dad, Pablo Aguirre, a tobacco prevention coordinator for Saint Mary’s, came to the United States from Ecuador at age 3. He and his siblings picked up English much more quickly than did his parents. So he knows what it’s like to translate for family members—and that’s something that plenty of the Mariposa students do on a regular basis.

Pablo Aguirre’s parenting philosophy is simple: “Give them a loving home and right beliefs. Beyond that, if they can walk away with computer skills and a second language, that’s marketable.”

Second-grade teacher Pamalla Davis drives to Mariposa from her home in Tahoe each day because she deeply appreciates the educational atmosphere—even in a makeshift classroom set up in a city gym. Davis was the director of the Head Start preschool program in King’s Beach. She also worked about five years for the Washoe County School District in Incline.

“What keeps me driving down the hill is that I see a whole community of children learning who might not be served otherwise,” she says. Rather than being shuffled off into a special program, Mariposa’s students keep receiving instruction—whether they speak English well or not. This leads to dramatic improvements in academic skills, she says.

“They’re excelling, and it’s exciting to see them learn and grow,” she says.

Davis teaches the second-graders whose dominant language is English. Since many of the students come from Spanish-speaking homes, Davis puts her own Spanish to good use during frequent meetings with parents. She also relies on the language occasionally to drive a message home.

“If you want to get right into their hearts, you speak Spanish," Davis says.