I joke sometimes that English is my second language, but there is some truth to that. I’m a product of the bilingual E.S.L. program of the Muscatine School District. The program was such a success that my Spanish has struggled at times. I grew to love reading and devoured books at the Musser Public Library, from Mark Twain to Judy Blume, as well as magazines at Cohn’s Newsstand. I love the English word.

That first day of school began with meeting my young teacher, Ellen Strittmatter. Her Spanish was so good I assumed for years she was Hispanic, but it turned out she wasn’t. She simply had a love for the language and the cultures where it was spoken. She later spent many years at the high school as a Spanish teacher, where she is remembered fondly.

Our classes were in both languages, as all my peers spoke Spanish at home. Many of my classmates lived in the same neighborhood as I did; our apartment was near the corner of Fifth and Mulberry. I loved Miss Strittmatter and have nothing but great memories of my class.

In first grade, our kindergarten class was kept together and was part of Graciela “Coca” Page’s class. We were joined by other classmates such as Brad Askam and Kristi Westfall. The classes were all in English, but occasionally Mrs. Page would be available to explain something to us in Spanish.

Sometimes Mrs. Page had to scold us in Spanish as well. I remember one particularly bad talking to I got in both languages when I thought it was a good idea to jump out of the school window to the outside. I did it once without getting caught, but the second time I was busted. My dad shook his head while he asked the age-old question parents will never stop repeating, “what were you thinking?”

During one segment of the day, our group of Spanish speakers was taken out of class and given some reading lessons from our teacher’s aide, Gloria Casas. Later, Becca Jones would help before she began her career as a teacher at Jefferson. Since I had two older brothers who spoke English to me and I was surrounded by American pop culture, my English grew rapidly.

In second grade, we joined Patricia Avelar’s class and we needed less and less Spanish to clarify any lessons or questions. All my classmates became fluent English speakers. We went home and watched the Fonz on “Happy Days” like the rest of America did. I lost touch with my second grade teacher, as she only taught at Jefferson for a few years. She was a wonderful lady who cared about her students deeply, no matter how much we challenged her patience.

In third grade, Mrs. Yoder was my teacher and she was bilingual as well. I think that was just a coincidence, as my original kindergarten class was split up at that time. It wasn’t until I reached fourth grade that I had a teacher who didn’t speak Spanish, Mrs. Schultz.

Mom felt the bilingual program was so helpful she figured out a way for my sister to attend Jefferson even after we moved to the Washington School area. I’m sure my siblings and I would have picked up the language, but I know the program accelerated our learning. I think it especially helped many of my classmates who were the oldest child of their families.

I’m grateful for the people, most of them women, who did all the hard work to get the curriculum in place that benefitted me for the rest of my life. What began in the 1970s as an E.S.L. program for the burgeoning migrant population evolved into the bilingual class I started in kindergarten.

Mrs. Page passed away in 2018. She left a lasting legacy as an educator and advocate in our community. I’m one of many who attended Jefferson School that remember the beautiful soul we were so fortunate to have as a teacher.

Today, I’m happy to see the district growing its dual language immersion program into something exciting, as it is evolving to meet today’s needs.

.