When April Hernandez walked onto Hemlock's campus in 2013 as a substitute paraprofessional, she had no idea just how long she'd stay, or how much this little school would come to feel like home.
Since then, she's grown into nearly every para role there is: Structured Classroom Intensive Learning (SCIL) Kindergarten, where she supported young students with autism, Targeted Academic Program (TAP) 1–3, TAP 4–6, one-on-one support in both special education and general education classrooms, Special Day Class (SDC) 4–6, and now, as a full-time paraprofessional in the resource room.
If there's a way to show up for a student at Hemlock, chances are April has found it.
That steady, do-whatever's-needed spirit hasn't gone unnoticed. "April has excelled in some of our most challenging assignments, providing crucial predictability and stability for some of our highest needs students,"
says Hemlock Principal Nicole Bandy. "We are so lucky to have her on our team!"
Ask April what's surprised her most since day one, and she'll laugh: "How much I've aged." But ask what's stayed exactly the same, and her answer comes without a beat of hesitation — the small community feel of Hemlock. It's a feeling she's held onto for thirteen years, and it's a big part of why she's never left.
"I like thinking that I may be making someone's day a little easier," April says, "whether it's a student or teacher, or a fellow para that I can help." That's really what's kept her at Hemlock, year after year: the friendships she's built, the way staff always show up for one another, and the quiet joy of watching kids grow up in front of her.
Over the years, she's worked with students from kindergarten all the way through sixth grade — and she lights up talking about it. There's nothing, she says, quite like watching a child grow, not just academically, but into who they're becoming.
Dawn Waid, a 4th-5th grade teacher with Hemlock's Alternative Cooperative Education (ACE) program, has seen that impact firsthand. "The kids love her," Dawn says. "She's so helpful, kind, and patient."
One memory still makes April smile, all these years later: early in her career, a first grader handed her a birthday party invitation and told her she could even bring a friend. The next day, he came back to check — had she called his mom yet to confirm? "Very sweet," April says, still smiling at the memory.
If there's one thing April has learned, it's that this job may not always come with a spotlight, but it comes with something better: the quiet, lasting knowledge that you matter, deeply, to the students and families who depend on you.
As for her legacy, April doesn't hesitate: she hopes to be remembered as someone who persevered through challenging years and always came back. Someone whose work made a difference. And most of all, someone who took the time to truly know her students, who genuinely cared, and who made every single one of them feel valued.
Thirteen years in, and still going, that's exactly the mark she's leaving.