The Liaison

Beatriz Moreno

Bilingual Migrant Specialist

Those close to Beatriz Moreno call her Bea, or Mother Bea, a nickname she’s had since she was a young girl attending Leland Public School in Leelanau County. Though shy, she was always the one intuitively scanning for those who needed a smile or someone to sit beside them. “I want everybody to feel included,” says Moreno.

Today Moreno is Mother Bea to many: her three boys most of all, but also countless Spanish-speaking kids and their parents whom she’s wrapped her arms around in service.

Moreno is the bilingual migrant specialist with Suttons Bay Public Schools and a liaison with Northwest Education Services, serving migrant families coming to work in Manistee, Benzie, Leelanau, Antrim and Grand Traverse counties. She connects “the Latino community, our English learners and the school, helping them get settled in and enrolled,” she explains. “I am holding families, holding the school and making sure that we are fitting the pieces together.”

Moreno was born in Mexico, moved to Texas as a baby, and first came to Leelanau County with her family at age 8. “I am a former migrant child. I know when you arrive here to work, that you come in your vehicle and you can only bring a certain number of things. You may not have enough bedding, warm clothing or shoes. You don’t want to use the same things you’re using for work to go to school or to go out,” she says. “We are so good at networking, and finding what people need most.”

The whole Moreno family—mom Juana, dad Tomas and the kids—worked seasonally on Leelanau’s strawberry farms, including plenty of wet mornings and hot afternoons. But Moreno’s biggest takeaway was the closeness that remains with her siblings to this day.

“It was always seen as, ‘We’re gonna be together.’ They used to give us little tickets for every bucket of berries … and we’d ask each other, ‘How many tickets do you think we have?’ We’d take a lunch break to have our sandwiches or some tacos my mom prepared. It was beautiful to be with my family. We were always talking and sharing and laughing.”

Later the Morenos stayed for apple season and enrolled in public school. “There were certain people who really mentored us. And I still carry that because my parents didn’t speak English. My dad didn’t know how to read or write in Spanish either. We were very cared for and loved, so I was taking that in, even as a child.” Paying that forward goes way deeper than a job title: “I truly stand by ‘love thy neighbor.’ I can be a little bit of that light and walk along with them, and build them up to say, ‘You can do this.’”

There’s been a shift in perspective since Moreno was that shy 8 year old. “Before, we were very under the radar; we’re here to work and that’s all we’re doing. Now it’s more: We are here and here’s what we could contribute to the community,” she says, adding, “My parents always told me, don’t be ashamed to tell people your story.” The story of her father, the late Tomas Moreno Sr., lives on in the Moreno Reserve wines named after vines at Bel Lago Vineyard lovingly cared for by the Moreno family since they were planted. Moreno’s youngest brother, Tomas Jr., continues to lead a devoted crew in vineyard management. “I’m seeing that they are truly, truly appreciated and respected for the work. It’s a skill not everybody can do.”

All the while, she loves sharing her culture with her home county. “We don’t want our kids to forget that they’re Latinos; to know that it’s okay to embrace it and love it.” Celebrating their traditions is as simple as making the distinct tamales recipes from their grandmothers. “When we have big parties, I say let’s invite some of these friends so they can come and see how we celebrate.” Moreno also recently revived a folklórico dance troupe—15 members strong, ages 5 to 62 years old—which performs in parades, political events and the county’s fall street party, Leelanau Uncaged.

And the cultural bridge goes both ways. “We are never going to be a healthy community if we don’t really get to know who is in our community. I always tell people, ‘Don’t expect someone to think that they’re welcome.’ Even if they speak the language they might be thinking, ‘It’s probably not for me.’ Start inviting people, really making it intentional. Say, ‘Hey, I want you to come. I’ll meet you there.’” –E.T.