Educator, community leader, veteran
This summer, CU Denver will unveil a series of murals and canvasses painted by world-renowned artist Detour that shines a spotlight on the achievements of the university's alumni. This article is part of a series that aims to go deeper into the stories of the alumni depicted in the series.
For Frank Dávila, who was born in Marlin, Texas and grew up as a migrant worker, childhood meant never staying in one place for very long.
“My dad worked for the railroad. Every year, his job took us back –and forth between our home and a migrant camp 300 miles away,” Dávila says. “We drove in a big old two-and-a-half ton truck as part of a caravan.” Dávila’s mother passed away when he was 10, putting an incredible strain on him and his six siblings. Still, his father was able to save enough money working as a truck driver for Dávila to attend school.
Despite only having two complete years of school – first grade and 12th grade – Dávila graduated from high school and enrolled at the University of North Texas. After graduating, Dávila became a classroom teacher. Then, a year later, as the U.S. escalated its efforts in the Vietnam War, he got his draft notice.
“There were six Latino students in my high school graduating class, and all six of us were drafted into the military,” Dávila says. “That gives you a picture of how minority populations were first to go to the front lines.”
Those of us who speak Spanish or another language, who are bilingual, bicultural, we always have our foot and our thoughts in both places, and so we’re able to move back and forth. That’s beautiful to me.”
After a three-year stint in the military, Dávila earned his master’s degree in secondary education and Spanish, with a minor in linguistics, from the University of North Texas, which enabled him to shift from being a classroom teacher to a school principal. Then, he enrolled in CU Denver’s School of Education & Human Development, where he earned his PhD. As a first-generation Latino student, Dávila at first felt that didn’t quite fit in. But soon, he began to appreciate what made him stand out.
“I was neither here nor there,” Dávila says. “I was in between. Those of us who speak Spanish or another language, who are bilingual, bicultural, we always have our foot and our thoughts in both places, and so we’re able to move back and forth. That’s beautiful to me.”
At CU Denver, Dávila learned the power of humility — a lesson he would apply in his career, to great success. “No one knows 100% of everything. It’s okay to be honest with yourself and say, this is not my area of expertise, and to find someone else who knows how to solve the problem.”
For Dávila, being able to admit that you don’t have all the answers is a sign of confidence in your identity — particularly for people of color. “Many times we’re told who we should be or how to behave and we can lose track of who we really are inside,” Frank says. “In order to really be comfortable, you have to go back into your past, your heritage and be proud of that, and accept it, and actually celebrate it.”
Frank Dávila enjoying an intimate dinner.
Frank Dávila with twin daughters
Frank Dávila at César Chávez March
Frank Dávila relaxing in San Antonio
Frank Dávila with his grandkids.
Frank Dávila enjoys tea time in Savannah
Dávila’s journey has been a balancing act of embracing opportunities for social mobility while staying in touch with his cultural heritage. As a father of four with 10 grandchildren (an 11th is on the way!), Dávila has witnessed first-hand how current and future generations have inherited this challenge.
“When my twin daughters were each married, I asked their fiancés, ‘How are you going to take care of my daughters’ language and culture?’ The dream I have for them is to know who they are inside and be able to share it and celebrate it.”
In CU Denver, Dávila sees an institution that values both cultural heritage and social mobility, pointing to the university’s DEI leadership as well as its being named a Hispanic-Serving Institution by the U.S. Department of Education in 2021. Dávila, now an education consultant living in Aurora with his wife, Laura Escalante-Dávila, has committed to doing his part: He worked with the university to launch the Doctor of Education in Leadership for Educational Equity, Latin@ Learners and Communities program.
“I want them to come away thinking, ‘Am I going to be here as a student? Or am I going to be an active, productive student? Am I going to reach out to other underrepresented students and foster a greater sense of belonging?"
Dávila, who in addition to his professional achievements is a two-time cancer survivor, wants the mural and canvas series to inspire future students — but also to challenge them. “I want them to come away thinking, ‘Am I going to be here as a student? Or am I going to be an active, productive student? Am I going to reach out to other underrepresented students and foster a greater sense of belonging?”
In his hopes for CU Denver’s future students, Dávila sees shades of his father, who sacrificed so much so that he could receive an education. “I carry him and his dreams through me. I want to carry them on to create a multi-generational growth process. It’s still unfolding, and I hope it will be for years to come.