Students learn lesson of resolve - Teacher's fight to return to U.S. shows them dreams are realized with determination

www.thestate.com Posted on Mon, Feb. 17, 2003 By GINA SMITH Staff Writer

Olivia Garcia Echezuria's heart was broken as she boarded a plane in May. With her work visa expired, she had to give up her job as a Spanish teacher and leave the United States.

Echezuria had to return to her native Venezuela, a country where most workers are on strike, poverty is rampant and education is a privilege of the rich.

Before her plane lifted off, Echezuria already missed her students at C.R. Neal Alternative School in Columbia, where she'd taught for the past four years.

She resolved to return to South Carolina and her students.

Shortly after setting foot on Venezuelan soil, Echezuria set to work -- visiting the U.S. Embassy, talking to every official.

In October, she was allowed to return to the United States.

Now, she's a living lesson in determination at C.R. Neal, a school for students who struggle in traditional classrooms.

"You can do whatever you want," Echezuria told her students recently, as she moved around her classroom like a ballroom dancer, dipping to touch students' shoulders, clapping her hands for emphasis. "But you have to want."

Students nod their heads. They know she is living proof.

"She got out in the nick of time," said Nathan White, the school's principal. "There are people trying so desperately to get out of that country but can't."

White kept his fingers crossed that Echezuria would be able to return.

"Kids love her, and I don't say that tongue-in-cheek," White said. "Kids can ask her anything. They trust her. They believe her."

Yes, Echezuria misses Venezuela where her grown daughter, mother and 11 siblings live. But she's needed here.

"My patriotism is global," she says with a rich Venezuelan accent, R's rolling like waves. "Wherever I can serve and be happy, that's where I want to be. That's how it is here."

At 4 feet 11 inches, Echezuria stands tall in the minds of her students.

Dreams come true, and resilience pays off. The proof is in Room 9.

Students finger her passport and family photos that she keeps in her room. They are reminders of what she's gone through and what she's given up for them.

And then there's the ticking of her golden watch. Now is the time to learn. Now. Now. Now.

"She tries to push you harder and harder every day," said Carl Cherry, a student of Senora E, as Echezuria is affectionately called. (Some students prefer Senora Olivia.)

Echezuria is the only Spanish teacher at the alternative school and teaches about 60 percent of its 240 students.

Her classroom is decorated with native Venezuelan garb, and flags from Spanish-speaking countries hang on the walls. Colorful rugs are spread on the floor, and plants grow in the windows.

Two parakeets chirp in a cage. (Most homes in Venezuela have birds.) Sometimes, annoyed students tell the birds to shut up.

Senora Olivia has a ready comeback: "After you," she tells students.

Teaching is always hands-on for Echezuria, who relies little on textbooks. When the class learns food vocabulary, Echezuria blindfolds them, feeds them grapes or bits of banana, then asks them to name the food in Spanish.

For a special treat, she makes them empanadas, Venezuelan turnovers of chicken, beef, cheese and corn flour.

She clicks around the room in her characteristic high heels, dramatic hand gestures cutting through the air. "Perfecto, exacto," she boisterously calls to students who answer a question correctly. Then she signs for other students to applaud.

And in the midst of lessons, Echezuria reminds students why they're learning Spanish.

"Transfer your knowledge. Don't leave it in the classroom," she tells them. "Spanish is for real. It's a real skill. No one can take it away from you."

Next month, Echezuria will hold the school's first ever Latin American Festival for students. There'll be food, costumes and traditional dancing from Hispanic-speaking countries.

But time is running out again for Senora Olivia. Her visa will expire in 2005.

"I will be older. It may be tougher to find a job in (Venezuela)," Echezuria says.

But if her students keep working hard to learn, she'll work hard too.

"I will try to stay."