nonprofit founder working to put more Latino teachers in classrooms. Here's how

Editor's Note: This interview is part of an ongoing Star series highlighting Kansas Citians from historically under-represented communities and their impact on our region. The series builds on The Star's efforts to improve coverage of local communities. Do you know someone we should interview? Share ideas with our reporter J.M. Banks.
Growing up in Florida as the son of Nicaraguan immigrants, Edgar Palacios saw the hardships his parents faced in pursuit of a better life for their family. At school he experienced discrimination that damaged his since of self worth as a student —an experience that left a deep and lasting impact, ultimately shaping his life's mission.
While working for the education nonprofit Great Schools, and touring schools across the country, Palacios observed a consistent pattern: classrooms filled with Latino students, but very few Latino teachers. What began as a simple idea—to compile a national list of Latino educators — quickly revealed a large void in the education field for Hispanic teachers.
In 2018, Palacios founded the Latinx Education Collaborative, a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting Latino youth in the classroom and creating pathways to increase Hispanic representation in the education profession.
Palacio said a big part of the reason he wants to encourage more Latino educators is so the growing population of Latino students get to see people who look like them and who share some cultural experience with them in their classrooms and school system offices.
Palacios recently sat down with Kansas City Star culture and identity reporter J.M. Banks to talk about not feeling supported as a child at school, the importance of Hispanic teachers in the classroom and the need for community involvement in a students life.
Banks: Can you begin by telling me about your early life and upbringing?
Palacios: I was actually born in Miami Beach, Florida, and lived there until I was about 11. Then my parents moved our family to Spokane, Washington. We lived there for three years before moving to Cape Girardeau, Missouri, where I went to high school. In 2004, I moved to Kansas City for college, so I've been here for almost 21 years now.
I'm the son of immigrants, my parents are from Nicaragua and came to the U.S. in 1981. I was born a few years later. Growing up, I witnessed firsthand the experiences they had to navigate as immigrants, learning new customs, cultures and systems.
I especially saw these challenges in places like Spokane and Cape Girardeau, where I experienced discrimination as a young kid in the school system. I didn't see my full value as a student and that really fuels my work today. The belief that all young people are worthy of quality education and meaningful opportunities, regardless of where they come from.
What inspired you to start the Latinx Education Collaborative?
In 2015 I was part of a program called Great Schools that tours schools, which allowed me to travel the country and visit various schools and see different education models. I noticed that while Latino students were present everywhere, there were very few Latino teachers, staff members, or administrators. I started asking questions.
I remember visiting a school in Houston, Texas, where 99% of the student population was Latino but there wasn't a single person of color on staff. I asked the principal why that was, especially in a place like Houston where you would expect diversity. I was confused. If you can't find people, why not actively go look for them?
My first idea was simple: build a spreadsheet or database of Latino educators across the country. That way, whenever someone claimed they couldn't find any, I could hand them the list. It was a simple response to a very complex issue, but it became the seed of what is now the Latinx Education Collaborative.
We officially launched at the end of 2018, and we've been working every day since, through the pandemic, through political and cultural shifts. We are focused on improving educational outcomes and experiences for students by working directly with Latino educators, parents, students, and allies.
Since you founded the organization, how do you think the vision has evolved to meet the needs of the Hispanic students you serve?
Evolution is absolutely necessary for any nonprofit. As I mentioned, our initial idea was simple, maybe even naive. But the more we learned about the field, the challenges and the broader political climate, the more we've adapted.
There are many barriers that prevent Latino individuals from entering the education profession. Some are cultural or narrative-driven, like the idea that education doesn't pay well or isn't a prestigious career. Others are systemic, like lack of high school completion, scholarships, and access to mentorship. Some come from being part of first-generation families whose parents came to the U.S. seeking better opportunities and education doesn't pay well.
We've been learning about all these factors and building pathways and solutions to address them. Collaboration is key—we can't do this work alone. We have to partner with schools, institutions, and other organizations. It's not something that you can do by yourself.
What do you think are the main challenges your organization faces in trying to achieve its goals?
Globally, we're facing a teacher shortage across the board. Fewer young people are interested in becoming educators, and we're struggling to retain the ones we do have. That's creating a serious crisis.
Teachers are underpaid and undervalued, especially here in the U.S. If we want to address any of the other challenges in education, we have to first address how we treat and support our teachers.
What are some of the most impactful programs or initiatives you've offered over the years?
One program we're really excited about is our Futuros Program. Through that initiative, our goal is to add at least 15 new Latino educators to our community by 2027. We support aspiring educators and those entering their first year of teaching by providing wraparound support and helping them stay connected and encouraged.
We also have a program called Expresión, which we run in partnership with Storytellers for Change. This program helps Latino educators develop and share their personal narratives. It's a way to humanize educators and build deeper connections with students. We believe educators who understand and embrace their own stories can better model authenticity and self-awareness for the young people they serve.
What role does community involvement play in addressing educational disparities?
Community involvement is everything. It's unrealistic to expect schools and districts to solve these issues alone. Educating a child is a community effort, everyone has a role to play.
Whether it's showing up for school board meetings, advocating for better policies, mentoring students, or simply being present in the school environment, every action matters. Our youth succeed when we all show up for them.
What are your organization's hopes and goals for the future?
We still have so much work ahead of us. The issues we're tackling, like teacher diversity and systemic inequities, didn't appear overnight. These are generational challenges that require long-term commitment.
We also have work to do in building bridges with other communities. Not everyone understands or agrees with the value of representation, equity, and inclusion. Until there's more alignment around these values, our work will continue to be both vital and necessary.
For more stories about culture and identity, sign up for our free On The Vine newsletter at http://KansasCity.com/newsletters.

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Learn with AIFact CheckingText to SpeechAI Summary

Related Articles

Yahoo

28 minutes ago

• Yahoo

Workers find 1,000-year-old mummy while installing pipes

Peruvian utility workers recently found a 1,000-year-old mummy while installing pipes in Lima, their company said, confirming the latest discovery of a pre-Hispanic tomb in the capital. The workers found the trunk of a huarango tree (a species native to coastal Peru), "which served as a tomb marker in the past," archaeologist Jesus Bahamonde, scientific coordinator of Calidda utility company, told reporters. The mummy of a boy aged between 10 and 15, was found at a depth of 20 inches, he added. "The burial and the objects correspond to a style that developed between 1000 and 1200," he said. The remains discovered on Monday were found "in a sitting position, with the arms and legs bent," according to Bahamonde. They were found in a shroud which also contained calabash gourds. Ceramic objects, including plates, bottles and jugs decorated with geometric figures and figures of fishermen, were found next to the mummy. The tomb and artifacts belong to the pre-Inca Chancay culture, which lived in the Lima area between the 11th and 15th centuries. They were discovered while gas workers were removing earth from an avenue in the Puente Piedra district of northern Lima. Jose Aliaga, an archaeologist with utility Cálidda, said the unearthed mummy still has dark brown hair. "We found remains and evidence that there could be a pre-Hispanic burial," Aliaga said. In Peru, utility companies must hire archaeologists when drilling the earth, because of the possibility of hitting upon heritage sites. Calidda has made more than 2,200 archaeological finds since 2004. Lima is home to over 500 archaeological sites, including dozens of "huacas" as ancient cemeteries are known in the Indigenous Quechua language. "It is very common to find archaeological remains on the Peruvian coast, including Lima, mainly funerary elements: tombs, burials, and, among these, mummified individuals," said Pieter Van Dalen, dean of the College of Archaeologists of Peru. Van Dalen, who is not involved in the discovery, said mummies on the Peruvian coast are usually found mummified naturally, generally in desert areas, with the skin dehydrated by the summer heat. He explained that other unearthed remains have been found to have undergone mummification procedures for cultural reasons and are usually discovered in a seated position with their hands covering their faces. In April, archaeologists in Peru announced they found the 5,000-year-old remains of a noblewoman at the sacred city of Caral, in an area which for decades was used as a garbage dump. Just days before that, researchers carrying out excavation work in southern Peru found an ancient tomb filled with the remains of two dozen people believed to be battle victims. The Associated Press contributed to this report. Kidney dialysis industry accused of maximizing profits over patients Pentagon officials reveal new details about U.S. strikes on Iran's nuclear sites Netanyahu reacts to U.S. strikes on Iranian nuclear sites

Chicago Tribune

5 hours ago

• Chicago Tribune

Clean energy job training offers hope to hundreds: ‘It's changed my life'

Jordan Foley ticks off what he didn't have when he started an intensive 13-week solar job training program on the West Side: money, a bed, clothes, food. The fear that the program wouldn't be able to help him was intense, but Foley, 31, pressed on, learning the math, science and construction skills needed to wire and install rooftop solar panels. He took tests, drew up blueprints and did daily physical training: pushups, jumping jacks and solar-panel carrying exercises. And in April, his hard work paid off. He landed a job as a project administrator for a clean energy company. 'It's changed my life,' Foley said of the training program. 'It's definitely changed my life for the better.' Foley is part of the first big wave of state residents to benefit from a long-awaited network of clean energy job training hubs established under Illinois' ambitious 2021 climate law, the Climate and Equitable Jobs Act. The inclusion of job training was a major demand of environmentalists and their allies, who were determined to see Black and Latino communities share in the benefits of the clean energy economy. Eleven of 16 major training hubs statewide are now up and running, training hundreds of people. 'This moment is massive,' said Juliana Pino, interim co-executive director at the Little Village Environmental Justice Organization. 'It's really significant because before the Climate and Equitable Jobs Act, communities had to fight very hard to even have (access to job training) be respected and understood.' There were 541 students enrolled in the workforce hub training classes in mid-May, and 94 who had already graduated, according to the Illinois Department of Commerce and Economic Opportunity. The program is state-funded, so it's not directly affected by President Donald Trump's attacks on renewable energy, but if opportunities in the field diminish, that could hurt graduates' job prospects, advocates said. Republicans in the U.S. Senate are currently working on a tax bill that would slash clean energy tax credits for businesses, homeowners and consumers. The House passed a similar measure last month. Among those eligible for the free training, which comes with a stipend and support services, are energy workers who have lost their jobs, people who have been in the foster care system, people who live in communities disproportionately burdened by pollution, and those who live in communities with high crime and incarceration rates. 'You're bringing in hundreds — and thousands — of people into the middle class,' said A.J. Patton Sr., CEO and managing partner of 548 Enterprise, the parent group to the nonprofit 548 Foundation, which runs the workforce hub where Foley trained. 'This is not just a workforce program. This is a public safety program. If I can take somebody off the corner and hand them a solar panel, I've changed their life,' Patton said. Under a sky hazy with Canadian wildfire smoke, 30 men and women in hard hats and neon construction vests pored over solar panels mounted on mock roofs they had built themselves. The students were considering wiring configurations, screwing in cables and responding to questions from solar master trainer Sam Garrard. In about a week, when the course at the 548 Foundation's West Side workforce hub at St. Agatha Catholic Church will conclude, the students will be able to install a solar array for a house, a car or a shop, Garrard said. 'Now they're just (taking) all their book knowledge and their hands-on knowledge that they've acquired and using it,' he said. The atmosphere was intense but supportive, with trainees calling craft-instructor manager Keith Lightfoot 'coach' and responding instantly on the one occasion when he sternly uttered a single word — 'Language!' — in response to an expletive. Among the challenges: Students have to do the math for solar arrays and learn the details of electrical wiring, according to graduate Cortez Heard, now a solar installer for a local clean energy company. 'It definitely did get challenging, but as a young man, you've got to understand it's going to be tough, and if you are ready for what you want to do, it's game on,' said Heard, 27, of Chicago. Such job training opportunities are the product of a long, hard fight in Illinois — one that can be traced back to the state's previous climate law, the Future Energy Jobs Act of 2016. The 2016 law was, in many ways ahead of its time, but it delivered some tough lessons to community organizers trying to make sure that Black and brown residents got their fair share of new jobs. 'We got our tails kicked by labor,' with many jobs and opportunities going to the relatively white construction trades, said Tony Pierce, co-pastor of Heaven's View Christian Fellowship church in Peoria and board president of Illinois People's Action, a multi-issue faith and community organization in Bloomington. The next climate bill, environmentalists and organizers vowed, would be different. They partnered with churches and social service organizations to hold community meetings across the state and hammer out a vision for what the clean energy economy should look like. Again and again, organizers heard the same thing from communities, Pino said: 'We don't want (clean energy) to be just a replica of other new industries that show up in our neighborhoods, don't give us meaningful access, and we ultimately don't see the benefits.' There was even a rallying cry: 'No climate, no equity, no deal.' In the end, Gov. JB Pritzker, a strong supporter of climate action, stepped in to help get the bill across the finish line, and the environmentalist coalition won big. The new law not only set a goal of 100% clean energy by 2050 but invested heavily in job training for people and communities that might otherwise be left behind. There are multiple workforce training programs under the Illinois climate law, including ones for people seeking union apprenticeships and for people in prison, but the workforce hubs program is the largest, and its progress has been closely watched. More than $30 million in climate-law funding has already been awarded to the workforce hubs, according to the state. Foley was basically homeless when a friend who works at the 548 Foundation told him about the solar job training program. He received a stipend for attending, and within a few weeks his caseworker was able to find him a small room to rent and even a brand-new bed to sleep in. 'That was a blessing,' he said. 'From there, I took full advantage of the program.' There were challenges: A relative died; not long after, another relative also died suddenly and prematurely. And then there was his fear of simply finishing the program. 'I didn't understand what could come from it,' Foley said. 'I was more afraid of, 'What happens when you have to go back to being hungry? What happens when you put in all of this energy, all of these days, and there is no (one) that wants to hire you?' I was very terrified of that.' Foley said he almost didn't take the final certification test, relenting only when Felicia Nixon-Gregory, the director of training and workforce development, sat down and talked with him. And then, when he graduated, it was into a dark December for clean energy. Winter, in general, isn't a good time to get hired for solar installer jobs in Illinois, and after President Donald Trump was elected in November, some clean energy employers took a wait-and-see approach to hiring. The 548 Foundation workforce hub solar training program initially had a job placement rate of 85%, which then dropped to about 50% and was inching back to 80% by mid-May, according to Patton. After he graduated, Foley found himself struggling to get paid what he was owed for short-term jobs. Still, he continued to work on issues he cared about, starting a youth ministry and volunteering at Prairie Guardians, an environmental nonprofit in Bloomington. And then, when he'd almost given up on a career in solar, he got a text from a case manager at his training program about a job at Atlanta's Dimension Energy with a $65,000 to $75,000 salary, a 10% sign-on bonus and unlimited PTO, or paid time off. 'I said, 'What is PTO?'' Foley recalled with a laugh. He had never heard of that. The company made him an offer, flew him to Atlanta to meet the team and put him up in a fancy hotel. He was worried that somehow the job, which is based in Chicago, wouldn't materialize, but then he got his company computer and corporate credit card. People told him, 'Don't mess this up,' he said. 'I was like, 'You're crazy if you think I'm going to mess any of this up,'' Foley recalled. There were high hopes for clean energy job training when the Illinois climate bill passed in 2021, and then there was frustration as year after year, the workforce hubs failed to materialize. 'This is one of the difficulties with having such nation-leading legislation,' said Francisco Lopez Zavala, an Illinois Environmental Council climate policy program associate. 'There was no other state in the U.S. to really model off in the efforts Illinois is leading in, with providing these trainings focused on the clean energy trade at such a scale, with the barrier reduction services that are offered,' he said. Among the issues, some state agencies didn't initially have enough staff, Lopez Zavala said, and even now, in some places 'it's still a struggle that we're continuing to work (on).' Pritzker's office did not respond to a written question about workforce hub delays but issued a statement saying in part, 'The idea for the CEJA workforce hubs originated with people from marginalized communities. The hubs are proof of the value of following environmental justice principles and ensuring impacted people have a seat at the table.' The services available to reduce barriers for workforce hub students can include child care, bus and gas cards, and assistance with housing and food. The idea is to give students the support they need to be productive and show up for class, said Crystal Overton, the 548 Foundation's director of student support services. A recent day found her buying clothes for the students' job interviews. 'I'm just thinking all the time, how are we preparing them for success?' Overton said. 'It needs to be a holistic approach, and not just education. It needs to be like Maslow's hierarchy of needs: Are they taken care of? Because if not, they're not going to come in open and receptive to the lesson.' The 11 regional workforce hubs that are already up and running include four in Chicago: the 548 Foundation hub with locations on the South and West sides, two Chicago Cook Workforce Partnership hubs on the South and West sides, and a Safer Foundation hub on the South Side. Classes vary, with the Chicago Cook Workforce Partnership focusing on job readiness training with an emphasis on soft skills as well as an introduction to career pathways and occupations in the clean energy industry. 'Ideally, someone can walk in, not knowing anything about the different career pathways, and then make a choice: OK, do I want to be a solar panel installer or do I want to work in HVAC?' said Abram Garcia, the Chicago Cook Workforce Partnership's interim associate director of program guidelines and budgets. Students can also find out which jobs they can get most quickly, he said, and for some that may be the deciding factor. Walter Alston, 35, of Chicago was drawn to construction, but at the end of his 12-week program at a Chicago Cook Workforce Partnership hub, he spread his net wider, interviewing with the electric vehicle company Rivian. He asked the questions he'd learned in the program — including ones about benefits and safety — and liked what he heard. Rivian offered him a job as a service technician, maintaining and repairing cars. He'll do five weeks of training in California, Arizona, Texas or Florida, and then move to one of those states for a permanent position. 'I thanked RW just, like, a million times,' Alston said of Revolution Workshop, the nonprofit that ran his training program. 'I thanked them, I thanked them, I thanked them.' As for Foley, he has in a sense come full circle. When he started his solar training program, talking to graduates gave him hope that this wasn't just another career dead end. Now he's the one with a job and a story to tell. During a recent video interview, Foley spoke from work, where he was on the road with some colleagues, visiting Illinois project sites. 'I'm loving it,' he said of his job. 'I'm very appreciative of where I'm at. They give me a lot of responsibility, so it's been a true life-altering experience.'

UPI

10 hours ago

• UPI

Kilmar Abrego Garcia likely to be held by ICE after DOJ release order

Sen. Chris Van Hollen, D-Md., speaks with Kilmar Abrego Garcia, a Salvadoran immigrant living in Maryland, in San Salvador, El Salvador on Thursday, April 17, 2025. On Sunday, a judge ordered Abrego Garcia to be released from Department of Justice custody. File Photo by President Nayib Bukele/UPI | License Photo June 23 (UPI) -- A federal judge has ordered the release of Kilmar Abrego Garcia, but the Salvadoran migrant is expected to remain in Immigration and Customs Enforcement custody as the Trump administration appeals the court's decision. Abrego Garcia, who has been living with his family in Maryland, was wrongly deported in March to El Salvador, where he was detained in the infamous CECOT prison. The 29-year-old was returned to the United States earlier this month to face two charges related to human smuggling in Tennessee, to which he has pleaded not guilty. President Donald Trump's Justice Department asked the court for permission to detain the migrant amid litigation. But U.S. Magistrate Judge Barbara Holmes in Tennessee issued her order Sunday, denying the Trump administration's request and acknowledging that, despite her order, Abrego Garcia will likely be transferred to ICT custody rather than remain detained by the Justice Department. "Perhaps the sole circumstance about which the government and Abrego Abrego may agree in this case is the likelihood that Abrego will remain in custody regardless of the outcome of the issues raised in the government's motion for detention," she said. "That suggests the Court's determination of the detention issues is little more than an academic exercise." ICE custody issues fall outside the authority of Holmes' court. In her order, she said Abrego Garcia has the right to due process. She also accused the Justice Department of overstating the allegations against the defendant. Abrego Garcia's charges stem from a traffic stop in November 2022. Nine other Hispanic men without documentation and luggage were in the vehicle. The charging document accuses him of being a member of the MS-13 gang. It alleges that he and others conspired from at least 2016 smuggle migrants into the United States. Holmes, in her Sunday order, pointed out how the Justice Department interchangeably used "smuggling" and "trafficking," which have distinct meanings in law, with the latter involving the movement of a person against their will, and the former with their cooperation. She also highlighted a lack of evidence on the government's part in attempting to tie Abrego Garcia to smuggling minors. The judge also criticized the government's application for detention ahead of trial based on on allegations of the defendant's gang membership. She said "the government cannot simply rely on the general reputation of a particular street gang" to argue that Abrego Garcia poses a dangerous threat to society. And while gang membership may meet the threshold for detention, the government must prove he is a member of the gang -- allegations that Abrego Garcia has denied. "Overall, the Court cannot find from the evidence presented that Abrego's release clearly and convincingly poses an irremediable danger to other persons or to the community," Holmes said. The Justice Department is widely expect to appeal.