As I reflect on our first steps bringing Parent Teacher Home Visits (PTHV) to Anne Arundel County Public Schools, I feel a swell of pride and hope for what’s to come.
Our journey, although new, is grounded in decades of both personal and professional experience. My story, like so many of our families, started as an immigrant—navigating an unfamiliar world with my son.

Decades ago, I immigrated to the United States from Colombia, landing in Maryland with my then five-year-old son. He began school in the middle of the year, after routines were set and friendships formed—he knew no English and had trouble adjusting to the structure and culture of his new classroom. He was sometimes disruptive, confused, and felt out of place. As his mother, I volunteered at the school, but I didn’t yet speak the language and found it challenging to bridge the gaps myself.

An Early Act of Connection Planted a Seed

In those early months, we were visited at home by his ESOL and kindergarten teachers, acting on their own initiative. I couldn’t communicate much in English, but I cooked Colombian dishes and we shared a meal—creating a moment of genuine human connection. In that simple meeting, it was clear: we all wanted the same thing—my son’s happiness and success. The very next day, he returned to school proud and ready to learn. He’d understood that his teacher cared enough to visit him, that he belonged to this community, and that together we were on his side. That moment eased so much fear for both of us, giving me peace knowing the adult caring for my child was kind, professional, and saw us as partners.

Years later, as a school system employee working first as a bilingual facilitator and now as a school and community specialist, I recognize that the power of such direct connections can change everything for families—especially those unfamiliar with the language or culture, or who feel invisible in the school system. That early home visit I received had planted a seed.

In 2023, I attended the National Community Schools and Family Engagement Conference in Philadelphia and encountered Parent Teacher Home Visits in an official sense for the first time. Hearing Yesenia Ramirez, a parent and cofounder who’s advocated for this practice for decades, ignited my passion. I saw how formalizing these home connections could reach so many more families like mine—those struggling with adjustment, language, or simply the belief that school is a place only for some. I came home determined to introduce PTHV in Anne Arundel so that trust, empathy, and support could be intentionally and equitably extended to all.

Launching PTHV in Anne Arundel County Public Schools

It took persistence to launch PTHV in our district—a lot of paperwork, anticipating concerns (especially around safety and time), and months of listening and learning as we built our plan. By February of this year, 60 educators had completed their first PTHV training. At the end of last school year, three schools had piloted visits, and the process of learning and growing was underway.

Meeting Families Where They Are

Early stories from visits remind me why this work matters. We met families living on the margins because of language, culture, or immigration status—like indigenous Guatemalan and Mexican families, whose primary language is neither Spanish nor English, but Mam and Kaqchikel. One of our first visits wasn’t in a home at all, but in a public library. There had been initial confusion: the family was identified as Hispanic, so all materials and outreach were in Spanish, but they were unresponsive. During the visit, it became clear why—the mother spoke only limited Spanish, and the child had to translate between their indigenous language and Spanish for the conversation to continue. The conversation that followed was an eye-opener for the teachers: not only about the family’s unmet needs and daily barriers, but about the importance of meeting families where they are—sometimes literally, in a neutral location—when a home setting isn’t possible or comfortable at first.

Later, as trust grew, the same family invited us to their apartment. That’s when we discovered a living room where the “sofa” was a large hammock hung in front of the television—an image so different from what teachers might expect, and a reminder that our assumptions and biases can melt away when we see families in their own environments, on their own terms. It was that family’s customs brought thousands of miles from home and dignified in this new place—serving both as comfort and as a bridge between worlds. In that moment, what could have been seen as a lack was instead a celebration of that family’s heritage and desire to remain rooted in their culture. The visit reminded us that, by truly entering a family’s world, we honor their story and can begin building trust grounded in genuine understanding and respect.

We’ve also seen how home visits give children confidence and teachers empathy. Another visit was to a shy third-grade girl. At school, she kept to herself, feeling “different” from the other girls. But during the home visit, the teacher’s willingness to share her own life and simple stories from home broke the ice. In the days that followed, the child found the courage to share her feelings: “I don’t feel like them. I don’t have the same toys or the same phone.” That moment of honesty, made possible by connection in a family setting, helped shatter walls between student and teacher and paved the way for support rooted in understanding, not assumption.

Teachers, too, describe a new understanding after being placed, even for a few minutes, in a setting where they’re unsure and have to rely on others for translation. That experience, they tell me, is transformative: it brings home what their English learner students feel in class every day, and inspires changes in how they relate to all children and families. One reflected after a visit: “For a few minutes, I felt just how my English Learner students must feel—confused, uncertain, trying to keep up. That empathy changes everything about how I teach.” Another noted that seeing a student’s joy and personality at home—sometimes so different from how they are at school—helped reframe concerns and led to greater patience and support in the classroom. These moments are what PTHV is all about.

Learning and Growing a PTHV Practice

Of course, there are challenges: time, language barriers, and ensuring staff are supported and compensated for their commitment. But we are building the systems—and the community—needed to make this work sustainable. We are still learning. Scheduling visits takes time, especially reaching families who speak many languages or work long hours. Compensation for the “invisible labor” of outreach and community liaisons is a priority. None of this works without passionate leadership and team buy-in, and I am grateful for the support of our district leadership.

An Invitation

For those new to the field, my advice is this: You need to believe in the transformative power of partnership, not just in theory, but from the heart. Start small, find your champions, and build from a foundation of mutual respect, clear processes, and open minds. None of us can do this work alone. It takes a village—and a district-wide commitment to seeing and lifting every family. Be humble, open, and patient. This work changes families, but it changes teachers and schools just as much.

My hope for Anne Arundel County Public Schools is that every child and family knows they belong, and that, together, we build schools rooted in trust and shared dreams for the future. Home visits are more than a strategy—they are our invitation to every family to step out of the shadows and into the heart of our schools.

Alba Morales is a School and Community Specialist in the Office of Equity at Anne Arundel County Public Schools.