by Ana Elise Lowe • 3 minutes
Marisol Castro didn’t make a scene. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t fight with words.
She simply refused to back down.
For more than 30 years, Marisol Arroyo-Castro poured her heart into teaching Connecticut’s children. She had dreamed of being a teacher since she was little, and she lived that dream with dedication and joy. With a master’s degree in education and a minor in child psychology, she built her classroom into a place of learning, care and trust.
Students left her class with memories of encouragement. They wrote her notes thanking her for believing in them.
But for Marisol, teaching was never only about academics. It was about compassion. Patience. Truth. And above all, faith.
That’s why, for years, she kept a small crucifix near her desk. Not to preach. Not to provoke. But to serve as a silent source of strength. To stay grounded when the days were hard. To pray in quiet moments. To keep perspective when the world felt overwhelming.
The crucifix had meaning. It was a gift from a grieving atheist woman whose Catholic family member had passed away. She didn’t want to throw it away. Marisol took it with reverence and gratitude. For her, it was a symbol of love, peace and presence. A constant reminder of the One she calls “Papa God.”
And then one day, someone complained.
The school told her to take it down. She tried. Just for one night, she agreed to the suggestion that she move it under her desk, out of sight. But it didn’t sit right.
“I said, ‘Yes, Papa God. I let you down,’” Marisol recalled. “I know I did, because I shouldn’t have moved it. But I’m going to fix it.”
So, the next morning, she came in early. She placed the crucifix back where it had always been. And within hours, everything changed.
They called her to the office. They handed her a cardboard box. Her crucifix was inside.
“They walked me out of the school like I’m a criminal,” Marisol said.
After three decades of service, she was taken away from the place where God had called her to be: the classroom.
But this isn’t a story of someone who gave up. It’s the story of someone with the courage to stand firm by what they believe—no matter the cost.
When she was told to silence her faith, Marisol made a courageous decision: she would not.
And she has suffered for it.
She was suspended without pay. Reassigned to a desk in an office downtown, far from the classroom she loved. The district even released more than 20 pages of internal notes about her to the media, in violation of state law.
Her supposed “crime”? Living out her faith in a small and personal way.
She didn’t hurt anyone. She didn’t pressure anyone. She simply believed, visibly, faithfully and without shame.
And she would do it all again.
“I’m not going to take it down,” she said. “And I’m not going to give in.”
In a world that often rewards silence and punishes conviction, Marisol’s bravery stands out.
She could’ve avoided conflict. She could’ve played it safe. But her relationship with God means more than her comfort, position or reputation. She didn’t fight out of anger. She stood because of love. Love for her Savior and love for truth.
She continues to face threats to her job. She’s still in legal limbo. But her courage remains intact.
She stood alone, but not afraid.
And her story challenges us to ask: when your faith is tested, would you be that brave?
Marisol was. And she still is.
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