From Fiji to Federal Way: One Educator's Journey of Resilience, Growth, and Cultural Bridge-Building
When Ferosa Bano migrated from Fiji to the United States in 1999, she brought with her more than just dreams of a new life. She carried the values of her homeland, a deep passion for children, and an unwavering commitment to making a difference. Today, as a paraeducator in Federal Way Public Schools, Ferosa's story is a testament to perseverance, cultural adaptation, and the profound impact one dedicated educator can have on countless young lives.
A Journey Begins: From Exam Supervisor to Early Childhood Educator
Ferosa's path into education wasn't a straight line—it was a winding road filled with learning, growth, and self-discovery. In Fiji, she worked as an exam supervisor, a position that gave her a foundation in educational systems but didn't yet reveal her true calling.
After arriving in the United States, Ferosa found her first job at Bright Horizons Early Education Center, where she would spend the next 13 and a half years working in the infant room. It was here, surrounded by eight-month-olds learning to eat finger food and toddlers developing self-help skills, that something clicked.
"I got the passion for children. In Fiji, we do everything for the kids. In an infant room, an eight-month child is able to have self-help skills. The child can eat finger food all by himself."
This approach—teaching even the youngest children to be self-reliant—became a cornerstone of Ferosa's educational philosophy. She watched as children gained confidence through independence, learning to walk, wash their plates, and take responsibility for their actions. When she shared these stories with her mother back in Fiji, the cultural differences became clear. What seemed natural to Ferosa in her new American context shocked her mother, highlighting the bridges Ferosa was learning to build between two worlds.
Navigating Cultural Crossroads
One of the most striking aspects of Ferosa's journey is her role as a cultural bridge-builder. Before securing her permanent position in Federal Way Public Schools, she worked as an interpreter for the district, helping families from her community navigate the American education system. This experience deepened her understanding of the challenges immigrant families face and reinforced her commitment to helping others succeed.
"When we are in America, we came here from far away and we had a big difficult journey. It was not just we came to America, we came to America, we sold everything. We had to pay so much money to go to the interview, to get the medical pass, to get our questions answered at the interview. It was a big process. We endured a lot. So when we come here, we should be something, right?"
Ferosa doesn't just teach children—she educates entire families about adapting to life in America while maintaining their dignity and values. At community gatherings, she gently guides parents on everything from proper furniture use to hand hygiene, always framing her advice as preparation for success rather than criticism.
"When families come and children climb on the sofa, I teach the parents, you know, sofas are for sitting," she explains with a laugh. "Don't get mad if I say that, you know, when your children go back to school, the teachers will say the same thing. Chairs are for sitting."
This approach—rooted in respect and practicality—has made her an invaluable resource for immigrant families navigating a new culture while raising children.
The Moment She Almost Quit
Not every chapter of Ferosa's story is triumphant. In fact, there was a moment when she nearly walked away from education entirely.
Early in her career with the district, Ferosa took a substitute position at a behavioral school—the old Truman High School site, then called Merit High School. It was a culture shock that shook her to her core.
"All the kids had one-on-one paraeducators and they had the F word, the B word, all kinds of words that I never ever had in my life. I was so disgraced, I took it so personally and then I quit. I said, you know, there's no respect. It's not nice."
Coming from Fiji, where she had served as head girl of Lambasa Muslim High School and could command the respect of 500 students in assembly with a simple "stand at ease," the disrespect felt personal and insurmountable. Students throwing garbage everywhere except in the trash bin, sitting on desks with their legs pointed at her—these behaviors violated everything she understood about proper conduct.
But Ferosa didn't give up. Instead, she went back to school.
Education as Transformation
Ferosa enrolled at Renton Technical College to study Early Childhood Education (ECE). It was there that a crucial shift occurred in her understanding. She began to see that the behaviors that had once offended her weren't about disrespect—they were about environment, trauma, and unmet needs.
"I kind of understood that it's not really the children's fault, you know, it's the environment that most of these children, that's why they're communicating in a harsh, negative way," she reflects. "So I came back to this district, I got a job and then I tried fitting to understand why they do things the way they do."
This revelation transformed not just her career but her entire approach to working with children. She stopped taking behaviors personally and started seeing them as communication—a cry for help, a response to trauma, or a learned survival mechanism.
Her training included volunteering at domestic violence shelters, where she watched videos that "really opened my eyes." Today, working with special education students, she sees firsthand the realities she once only read about in books back in Fiji.
"I have children that were eating the walls in my room. They had no food," she shares. "So now finally those children, they're playing with toys."
A Career of Growth and Dedication
Ferosa's career trajectory within Federal Way Public Schools demonstrates both her versatility and her commitment to growth:
2015: Secured a permanent position as an ECEAP assistant teacher
Next year: Moved to Wildwood Elementary School as a preschool paraeducator (3 years)
Following period: Transitioned to Sunnycrest Elementary School resource room paraeducator (3 years) to support her family with more hours
Current position: Returned to Wildwood Elementary with a seven-hour position
Throughout these transitions, Ferosa also dedicated five years to after-hours programming through Puget Sound Educational Service District (PSESD), teaching cultural cooking classes and helping children understand resourcefulness.
"I taught them how to substitute meat products without the real meat, but get the same food value. It just kind of fitted with me."
Her cooking classes weren't just about food—they were about resilience, creativity, and cultural understanding. She taught children from Afghanistan, Pakistan, and other countries how to work with halal dietary restrictions, how to use available ingredients creatively, and how to make nutritious meals from whatever's in the refrigerator.
The Reality of Special Education
When Ferosa suspected her granddaughter might have special needs, she made a decision that would shape the rest of her career: "I said, you know what? I need to learn myself. How can I support my own granddaughter? So that's how I joined special education."
Though her granddaughter did not need special education, Ferosa had gained invaluable tools and found her true calling. Today, she works with special education students who present complex challenges—children with behavioral issues, developmental delays, and diverse needs.
Her typical day is structured yet unpredictable:
Morning (8:15 AM - 9:00 AM): Bus pickup, playground supervision, and breakfast routines where children practice self-help skills
Academic Time (9:00 AM - 11:00 AM): Circle time, calendar work, writing and reading instruction, and recess
Lunch and Afternoon (11:00 AM - 3:00 PM): Lunch support, small group work, specialist classes (music, art, PE, library), read-alouds, second recess, and dismissal
But between these scheduled activities lies the real work—the hundreds of daily behaviors, the redirections, the patience required when working with children who bite, hit, and kick.
"We get beaten, eaten, bites and hit and kicked all day long. We direct the children all day because we work with special education kids and behavior kids."
Small Victories, Big Impact
What keeps Ferosa going? The breakthroughs. The moments when persistence pays off and a child takes a step forward.
"Two weeks ago a kid started talking. That's a big accomplishment. You know, like, wow, this kid started talking—amazing," she says with evident pride.
She describes another student who refused to touch any school food for two years. Ferosa and her teacher worked with the family, explaining that the child needed to learn independence. When the mother, who was from Ferosa's own culture, continued bringing food daily, Ferosa had a crucial conversation.
"I said, you know, it's up to you, but if you come every day again and again and feed him, this child will have no self at school. And this child will never, ever explore our food here. And one day you are sick. One day you'll have a baby and you won't be able to come. What will this child eat?"
Today, that child eats all the school food. He takes Ferosa to the food basket and points to what he wants.
Then there are the small, heartwarming moments that make her laugh—like the student who associates hearts with "free choice" because that's what appears on the schedule. So when Valentine's Day arrives with its hearts everywhere, instead of saying "Happy Valentine's Day," he announces: "Free choice!"
The Unrecognized Heroes
Despite the critical nature of her work, Ferosa is candid about a frustrating reality in education: paraeducators are undervalued and underpaid.
"The amount of work we do, we are not paid that much. We do as much as the teachers except the paperwork. But we are not paid that much. That's really surprising for me. Without Paras, teachers cannot run a room. And that is not recognized and that is a sad thing."
She's not wrong. When her teacher is absent and a substitute arrives, Ferosa and her fellow paraeducators become the backbone of the classroom. They know which children might run out the gate. They know the cues, the preferences, the triggers. They run the room.
"If we were not there, the teacher doesn't know. They don't know the cues of the children. They don't know what the children like, they don't know which children will run out of the gate. We know it, you know. So we do everything for them."
This reality has motivated Ferosa to pursue her teaching certification. She excels in every subject except math, she admits with characteristic humor, but she's determined to become a certified teacher. It's a goal driven not by ego but by a desire for recognition of the essential work she and her colleagues perform daily.
Lessons in Leadership and Potential
One Saturday, while working at Federal Way High School for extra income, Ferosa had an unexpected opportunity. The teacher had an emergency and had to leave, and the principal approached her: "Ferosa, can you handle this class? There's no other teacher available."
The class was personal finance—a subject Ferosa hadn't taught before. But she didn't hesitate.
"I told my principal that I can handle it, but I will do my own curriculum. I will not do whatever she's doing. I'll do my stuff. So I did it."
That moment was revelatory: "I learned that I have potential."
It's a lesson that extends far beyond that single day. Ferosa has learned that she has the capacity not just to follow procedures but to innovate, to adapt, to lead. Whether it's figuring out that a bouncy ball can help regulate a challenging student's behavior or creating her own approach to teaching financial literacy, Ferosa brings creativity and cultural wisdom to every situation.
The Heart of the Work
Ask Ferosa what the best part of her job is, and she doesn't talk about curriculum or techniques. She talks about transformation.
A child who couldn't speak now announces the date with pride. A child who wouldn't eat now reaches for school food with enthusiasm. A child who was "eating the walls" out of hunger now plays with toys.
These aren't just milestones—they're miracles born of patience, consistency, and unwavering belief in every child's potential.
A Message for Future Educators
Ferosa's journey offers crucial insights for anyone considering a career in education:
Expect Culture Shock: Whether you're crossing international borders or simply entering the complex world of special education, prepare for your assumptions to be challenged. What seems like disrespect might be trauma. What looks like defiance might be communication.
Education Changes You: Formal education—like Ferosa's ECE coursework—can fundamentally shift how you understand children and their behaviors. Never stop learning. Never stop seeking to understand.
It Takes a Community: Education isn't just about what happens in the classroom. Ferosa's work with families, her after-hours programs, and her role as a cultural interpreter demonstrate that effective educators work with entire communities.
Patience Pays Off: Whether it's a child learning to eat independently or a student finally starting to speak, breakthroughs rarely happen overnight. The work requires persistence, creativity, and faith.
Advocate for Yourself: Ferosa's honest discussion about paraeducator compensation is crucial. If you're considering education, understand the financial realities and know your worth. Pursue advancement opportunities when they align with your goals.
Find Your Why: For Ferosa, it started with a concern about her granddaughter and evolved into a calling to serve the most vulnerable students. Your motivation will sustain you through the difficult days—the kicks, the bites, the behavioral challenges that come with the territory.
Cultural Competency Matters: In an increasingly diverse America, Ferosa's ability to bridge cultures, speak multiple languages, and understand the immigrant experience makes her invaluable. Whatever background you bring to education, your unique perspective is an asset.
The Bigger Picture
Ferosa's story isn't just about one remarkable woman—it's about what's possible when educators bring their whole selves to the work. Her cultural background isn't separate from her professional identity; it enriches it. Her personal challenges haven't weakened her; they've deepened her empathy.
In a field often marked by burnout and high turnover, Ferosa has found staying power not despite the challenges but because she understands them. She knows what it's like to feel disrespected. She knows what it's like to struggle with a new culture. She knows what it's like to worry about a child's development. And she uses all of that knowledge to be a better educator.
"I like talking, you know, I'm a talker," Ferosa says with a laugh. But it's more than that. She's a teacher, a mentor, a cultural ambassador, and an advocate. She's someone who sees potential where others see problems, who builds bridges where others see divides, and who shows up every single day ready to face "hundreds of behaviors" because she knows those behaviors represent children who need her.
Your Turn
Ferosa Bano's journey from exam supervisor in Fiji to special education paraeducator in Federal Way is more than an immigrant success story—it's a testament to the transformative power of education and the educators who dedicate themselves to it.
If her story resonates with you, if you've ever wondered whether you have what it takes to make a difference in a child's life, if you're curious about the many paths into education, there's never been a better time to explore the possibilities.
The field needs people like Ferosa—people who bring diverse experiences, cultural understanding, resilience, and above all, a genuine passion for helping children grow. The path may not be easy. There will be days when you face behaviors that challenge you, systems that frustrate you, and compensation that doesn't reflect your worth. But there will also be days when a child speaks for the first time, when a struggling student finally eats independently, when you realize that your presence in that classroom is changing lives.
As Ferosa discovered when she was handed a classroom to teach on her own, you might have more potential than you realize. The only way to find out is to take that first step.
Ready to explore your potential in education? Visit careersined.org to discover pathways into teaching, early childhood education, special education, and more. Your journey could start today.
Ferosa Bano continues to work at Wildwood Elementary School in Federal Way Public Schools, where she remains committed to her students, her community, and her dream of becoming a certified teacher. Her story reminds us that the most impactful educators often take unexpected paths to get where they're meant to be.
