We recently had the chance to connect with Beatriz Reid and have shared our conversation below.
Beatriz, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
I’ve been a full-time stay-at-home mom for the past 16 years, raising five incredible kids. Nineteen years ago, I moved to the United States with just a couple of suitcases and barely knowing any English. And now, this September, I find myself on the cusp of launching my very own business! Not just any business, but a brilliantly original blend of teaching art and Spanish to children aged 3–10 in North Texas—a perfect mix of all my favorite things!
I’m incredibly proud of myself as I enter this new chapter in my mid-40s as an entrepreneur, teacher, and cultural knowledge provider, all while managing a household that’s practically a small village.
Before, the idea of standing up, owning a business, and teaching in a language I’ve wrestled into submission over 19 years might have felt like facing a dragon armed only with a paintbrush.
I’m not just teaching kids to draw and speak Spanish—my true calling is to spark their creativity and open their minds to new worlds. North Texas is about to get a whole lot more colorful!
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Beatriz de Ossorno Gomez Reid, and I’m a native Spanish speaker from Madrid, Spain. I moved to the United States in 2006 and taught myself English by watching countless hours of TV, reading books, and relying on the endless patience of my husband, David, from South Carolina. As a mother of five children (ages 5–16), I discovered my passion for teaching in 2015 when I accepted a position at Shallowford Presbyterian School in Atlanta, Georgia, as a Spanish and art teacher. There, I found joy in blending art and Spanish to inspire my students. In 2021, my family and I relocated to Aledo, Texas.
At the heart of my brand is a vibrant mission to ignite creativity and cultural curiosity in children aged 3 to 10 by weaving together the joy of art and the beauty of the Spanish language. My business creates a dynamic, supportive space where young learners can explore their artistic potential while gaining foundational Spanish skills. Through interactive, movement-filled classes, I nurture self-expression, boost confidence, and foster a love for learning in a way that feels like play.
In my classes, kids dive into a world of color, texture, and imagination while absorbing Spanish in an organic, engaging way. Designed with young learners in mind, each session blends art techniques with language acquisition, emphasizing the creative process over a polished final product. For the youngest learners (ages 3–6), activities are sensory-rich, routine-oriented, and infused with repetition to build comfort and familiarity with Spanish words and phrases.
Think painting to the rhythm of Spanish songs or crafting with simple vocabulary prompts. For slightly older children (ages 5–10), I ramp up the fun with games and projects that encourage exploration, like collaborative murals paired with Spanish storytelling or scavenger hunts using new words.
As the owner, my goal is to spark curiosity and make Spanish feel approachable through art. For preschoolers, my classes are gentle and predictable, with plenty of movement to keep them engaged. For older kids, I introduce more complexity through interactive challenges that deepen their language skills and creative confidence. By blending these worlds, my business empowers children to embrace a new language and culture while discovering the boundless possibilities of their own creativity.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. Who saw you clearly before you could see yourself?
That’d be my husband of 19 years, David. The man’s got a knack for spotting the real me—like, scary good. Back when I was stumbling through life, probably thinking I was just a hot mess with a side of chaos, David was over there squinting through the fog of my self-doubt like, “Yup, there’s my star, shining under all that nonsense.” It’s honestly kind of annoying how he knew I was a catch before I did—makes me wonder if he’s got a secret manual on me stashed somewhere. But, gotta admit, it’s pretty sweet that he’s been my biggest fan since day one, even when I was my own worst critic.
If you could say one kind thing to your younger self, what would it be?
Dear Younger Me,
I see you, hiding behind Mom and Dad’s legs, your little heart racing because the world feels too big, too loud, too overwhelming. I know how shy you are, how every new face feels like a spotlight you’re desperate to shrink away from. And I know you feel small—not just in size, but in every way that matters to you. You’re staring at those math problems, the numbers blurring on the page, convinced you’re “slow,” that you’re not as smart as the other kids. You hear the whispers—maybe not from others, but from that voice in your head that says you’ll never be enough. The ugly duckling, right? That’s what you call yourself, staring in the mirror, wishing you could be someone else, someone brighter, someone who fits in.
I wish I could hold you right now, wipe the tears you’re too scared to let fall. Growing up feels like a mountain you’re too weak to climb, doesn’t it? The future looks like a foggy road, and you’re terrified there’s nothing good waiting for you at the end. I know you’re carrying the weight of feeling different, like your quirks—your silly, wonderful sense of humor—make you strange instead of special. I know you think no one sees you, not really.
But listen to me, sweet kid: persevere. Don’t give up, even when you want to crawl under the covers and hide forever. You are worth so much more than you can see right now. You are worthy of love—not just from others, but from yourself. One day, you’ll look in the mirror and smile at that quirky, beautiful soul staring back. You’ll laugh at your own jokes, and you’ll realize they’re part of what makes you you. Those struggles with math, that shyness, the way your brain dances to its own rhythm—they’re not flaws, they’re just pieces of the puzzle that is you. And that puzzle? It’s going to come together in ways you can’t even dream of yet.
I’m crying as I write this, thinking of how hard you’re trying, how heavy it all feels. But I promise you, the fog will lift. You’ll find your way. You’ll love yourself one day, just as you are—every shy smile, every goofy joke, every moment you thought you weren’t enough. Keep going, little me. You’re going to be okay. More than okay—you’re going to shine.
With all my love,
Your Future Self
P.S: And yes, you will be able to finally learn English and make your weird jokes and make so many new friends in a new country! How crazy is that!
Next, maybe we can discuss some of your foundational philosophies and views? Is the public version of you the real you?
Let’s take a wild ride through my life to answer that! Back in my mid twenties, I was a hot mess, just moved to the U.S. with two suitcases and a vocabulary of about ten English words—think “hello” and “where’s the bathroom?” I was trying to figure out who I was, probably like every other twenty-something, juggling dreams and culture shock. My thirties? Pfft, I was knee-deep in diapers, wiping noses, and cheering at soccer practices for my five kids—self-reflection time? But when my early forties hit, bam! Therapy was my superhero cape. It helped me peel back the layers and discover the real me: a creative, passionate woman ready to launch a business teaching art and Spanish to kids in the area. That’s the me the world sees now—vibrant, inspiring young minds to paint and say “¡Hola!” with confidence. But, okay, my own kids might whisper that I get a smidge cranky by bedtime, especially after a long day. So, yeah, the public me is the real deal—full of heart, a dash of sass, and just a pinch of end-of-day grumpiness!
Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. If you knew you had 10 years left, what would you stop doing immediately?
First off, I’d slam the brakes on getting frustrated over silly stuff—like stressing when the kids leave paint smudges on the table or when my husband forgets an item from the grocery store that I have asked him to get. Life’s too short for those petty meltdowns! Instead, I’d be packing our bags for epic family adventures—think exploring the Grand Canyon or splashing around in Hawaii with my five kids and husband, making memories that’ll outlast any spilled glitter ) this would be a lot of ask, as I hate with passion glitter).
I’d also stop holding back on telling the people around me I love them. No more assuming they know—I’d be shouting “I love you!” to my kids, my husband, and even maybe strangers that maybe have different ideas or values different than mine, like, every day.
I’d quit wasting energy on the small stuff and pour it into more travel, more hugs, and more “I love yous” to make those 10 years the richest, most colorful chapter of our lives!
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/holacreatorstx
Image Credits
Bianca Schiffman ( two pictures of my holding paintings) and Bea Reid the rest.
