Rochester teacher says student success starts with seeing them for 'who they are and what they can be'
From working seven days a week as a migrant worker at age 7 to becoming a Spanish immersion teacher for Rochester Public Schools, Criselda Martinez is the epitome of resiliency.
Five years ago, Martinez moved to Minnesota from Texas and landed at Gage Elementary where she is in her fifth year as a second-grade Spanish-Immersion teacher. “My role in the Spanish Immersion program is to cultivate that culture, cultivate that language, that richness, and also be a role model for other kids to see that we’re there, that they’re not alone, that they can succeed one day, too,” she shares.
And like most educators, Martinez recognizes that building relationships is key to student success. “Once you establish a relationship,” she says, “those children will thrive because they know that somebody’s got their back, that somebody outside of their house will understand them and see them for who they are and what they can be.”
It might come as a surprise that teaching wasn’t Martinez’s first career choice. She received a degree in criminal justice from the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley with hopes of becoming a juvenile counselor to help reform the prison system. She also had designs on furthering her education to become an attorney to advocate for farm workers. “My whole career path was aimed at helping others,” she says.
So, how did she end up in education? “I accidentally fell into teaching, and I just loved it.”
Martinez’s first position was teaching humanities to at-risk students in grades 9-12 in Texas. After seven years she transferred to the elementary school, where she remained with students who were in need and attending Title I schools. Gage Elementary is also a Title I school.
“I don’t want them to go through the same thing I did,” she shares. “I want them to know there’s opportunities for them no matter what background they come from, no matter what language barriers there are, or economic status, or where they live.”
‘We all sacrificed together’
Martinez’s childhood was different than most. Up until age 18, she was a third-generation migrant worker who traveled with her single mother and two siblings between the southern tip of Texas, known as the Rio Grande Valley, in the winter and Minnesota and Wisconsin in the summer.
Her first summer in the Midwest, in 1974, is one she’ll never forget. “We didn't have a normal summer where we were out playing or swimming or joining summer camps. Our job was to work.”
Martinez worked alongside adults and other children her age, including her 6-year-old brother and 8-year-old sister. They mainly picked cucumbers and hoed sugar beets. They lived in farm houses and labor camps that were less than exemplary. Some of the labor camps didn’t have running water. Some were rat infested. They were often housed in one-room shacks with small kitchenettes and not enough bunk beds, leaving Martinez’s brother to sleep on the floor. And, depending on the field they were at, they didn’t always have access to a restroom or portable toilet.
There were a few bright spots, though: thunderstorms and night school. Thunderstorms gave them their only days off, which meant grabbing a hamburger in town and maybe a treat at the Dairy Queen. Night school was exactly that. After a full day of work, they would take care of their chores and then take a bus to the local school where a volunteer teacher taught them crafts and a variety of subjects. Even though they didn’t get home until 9 or 10 at night and had to work the next day, Martinez said, “It was our highlight. It was our fun.”
For Martinez and her siblings, education was always a priority. Growing up without television and relying on each other and books for entertainment, they found a love for education, reading and knowledge.
“It brought us closer together as a family because we all struggled,” she said. “We all sacrificed together. We worked hard.”
But the hardest part of being a kid working long hours day after day during the Midwest summers ‒‒ listening to kids having fun at a nearby campground and lake.
“Across the street at one of the fields we used to work at in Wisconsin, there was a campsite and it had a really beautiful lake, and you could hear all the kids swimming, jumping off the diving board, the jet skis, the laughter. You could smell the smoke from the fire...” Through tears, Martinez continued, “We were kids. We would stand up and just take it all in and listen. And then we’d turn around and get back to work.”
As hard as moments like those were, she remembers standing up one day and saying, “One day we’re going to go camping there.”
In the winters, her family lived in Texas with Martinez’s grandparents, which she said was a relief because she and her siblings were able to attend school. It was an abbreviated school year at best, because they typically started a month or two after everyone else and then migrated north before the school year ended. And when other kids were watching TV and hanging out with friends on weekends and during holidays and school breaks, she worked in the fields picking oranges, grapefruits, peppers, and onions.
This pattern of moving seasonally continued until she turned 18, graduated from high school, and enrolled in college.
“We struggled through all of the hard times, but in the end, all of us went to college. We all graduated from college,” said Martinez. Through it all, she adds, “You find that love and passion for education and for bettering yourself and for helping others who are in the same situations.”
Jennifer L. Davidson is a freelance writer and youth creative writing instructor. She is also the owner of Rochester Writing Lab.
Editor’s note: Recognizing that masks are required in RPS facilities, Martinez only briefly removed her mask for the photo. No students were present.