Marrero was serving as an interim superintendent in New Rochelle, New York, when he was named superintendent of Denver Public Schools (DPS). Coming from a district of about 10,000 students, he would now lead one nearly nine times that size—the largest in the state of Colorado. And as he quickly learned, leading such a massive district comes with unique challenges.

Marrero sees the superintendency as a triangulation of three roles. On one hand, “you’re a business person—we have $1.5 billion that we manage,” he says. “You are also a politician, whether you want to be or not.” While the superintendency is at least somewhat political in any district, he explains that in DPS, it’s even more so. “It has to do with the history of the superintendency here in Denver,” he says. That history dates back to 2009, when then-superintendent Michael Bennet was selected by Governor Bill Ritter to fill a vacated seat in the U.S. Senate—despite having never held political office. “It’s happened only once, and it will probably never happen again,” says Marrero. “But there’s still a generation of people here who see this role as a political stepping stone.” 

But of course, Marrero says, any good superintendent is “an educator first and foremost.” Balancing the demands of those three roles “takes a certain amount of savvy and a particular skill set,” he says. “I feel the pull to be the politician or the businessman, but I’m at my best when I’m leaning into being an instructional leader, an educator. Politics is cyclical—but children’s futures are permanent.” 

The way Marrero sees it, ensuring bright futures for all DPS students starts with systems—many of which weren’t made to accommodate diverse communities. It’s a fact he knows from experience. As the son of a Cuban refugee and a Dominican immigrant, Marrero says he gained “a dual perspective” growing up. “On the one hand, I saw hope and resilience,” he says. “On the other hand, I saw systemic barriers.” 

It took determination, patience and a lot of frustration to navigate the American school system—one that was not built for Marrero or his family. “My mother spoke almost no English. I had to translate official documents for her,” he says. “I saw firsthand how language shapes opportunity.” 

Now, DPS serves more than 30,000 multilingual learners—students who speak languages other than English at home. More than 200 different languages are spoken across the district. And in the last few years, DPS has seen a significant influx of students from other countries. “As we welcome close to 5,000 new-to-country students, I refuse to see that as a deficit. It’s an asset,” Marrero tells SchoolCEO. “They’re bringing cultural richness into our ecosystem. And we have a daily obligation not just to teach students English, but to honor their identities, to build bridges for their families, to ensure that our systems adapt to them—not the other way around.”

One way the district has adapted to support these families is their Newcomer Centers: programs within certain DPS schools for students who are new to the U.S. and aren’t proficient in English. The centers teach basic English reading, writing and math skills, all while acclimating students to the American school system. 

But more often than not, newcomer families need more than just academic support to adjust to their new lives—which is why Marrero launched DPS’ six Community Hubs in 2022. Each hub provides slightly different wraparound supports. Some have “bonafide bodegas,” he says, complete with fresh produce and frozen meat. Others provide free clothes. One even has a vending machine that distributes books. 

The hubs also offer English classes for parents, GED tutoring in both English and Spanish, citizenship preparation, workforce training, and more—plus free childcare for families participating in classes. And that’s just scratching the surface of their support. “If you show us that your light bill is about to get cut, we're paying it for you,” Marrero says. “This is transforming lives—and in the case of our newcomers, it has saved lives. No exaggeration.” 

For Marrero, the work of the hubs is deeply personal. “They’re providing what I didn’t have as a kid back home, when my friends and I were getting in a lot of trouble roaming the streets of the Bronx,” he says. “We weren’t neglected; we were loved. But our families had other needs. They had to figure out how they were going to pay rent.” When families don’t have to worry as much about those other needs, they can support their child’s well-being as much as their more affluent peers. “It’s creating parity beyond bell to bell,” Marrero says.

As is the case for so many educators, everything for Marrero centers on DPS students. Who are they? What do they want? What do they need to thrive? According to Marrero, when he took the superintendency at DPS, he “inherited” a strong student voice and leadership group. “There can be a kind of tokenism to those groups sometimes if they’re constructed with a top-down approach,” Marrero says. “Leaders will say they’re including student voice, but it doesn’t actually impact decision-making. That was not the case here.” 

The DPS student voice and leadership group is composed of over 30 students, with every high school in the district represented. And while the group did exist before Marrero took the helm, he has heightened the work. “I shifted from student voice to empowering decision-making,” he says. “Instead of just elevating voices, how can we systematically intersect voice and empowerment, specifically for those who’ve not only been historically underserved, but historically underestimated?” Now, DPS student voice and leadership group members engage in advocacy work to facilitate change at both the district and legislative levels. 

In crafting DPS’ first-ever equity-based strategic plan, “DPS Thrives,” Marrero wanted students to be the driving force. “Who am I to impose myself—to impose Bronx, New York Marrero—on them?” he laughs. “It doesn’t work that way. All I did was usher and facilitate.” Stepping out of the way allowed the students to help move the district in the right direction, specifically towards a more culturally responsive curriculum. “It allowed us to operationalize and prioritize resources where they’re needed most,” Marrero says. “I believe if we empower students to tell us what they need, then we’ll be primed to adjust and deliver.” 

The idea is to elevate all DPS learners as “innovative leaders,” according to the strategic plan. “But we don’t necessarily mean we expect all our students to become CEOs,” Marrero clarifies. For example, he tells us about a high school student in the Lakota class who took initiative to do something inventive: He’s developing an AI module for pronunciation in the Lakota language. In other words, when DPS describes their students as innovative leaders, “we’re talking about their capacity as students in a DPS classroom,” Marrero says. “Do they feel empowered to question, create and contribute?”

Since Marrero took the helm in 2021, DPS has achieved its highest-ever graduation rates and turned around 15 schools at risk of state intervention. Marrero himself has garnered a plethora of awards; in 2024 alone he was named Superintendent of the Year by both the District Administration Leadership Institute and the Colorado Association of Latino/a Administrators and Superintendents. 

But despite this success, not all his decisions have been popular. During our Zoom conversation, he holds up a sign made by a critic; it says “Fire Marrero” in all caps. “I had this handy because I was doing a superintendent training program,” he says, half laughing. “I wanted to make sure they were ready for the superintendency. It’s not for the faint of heart; it’ll eat you up if you’re not ready for it.” 

So, like any leader, Marrero will likely always have his critics—but he’s okay with that. “I have a duty to respond to the majority, not the very loud minority. That gets me in trouble sometimes because some of those folks in that vocal minority are not only affluent, but incredibly powerful,” he says. “But I have to preserve my moral compass around equity, inclusion and opportunity. As long as I can do that, I sleep well at night. My decisions are grounded in what’s best not for me, but for all the folks that we’re serving.”

Today, Marrero is about 1,700 miles away from his hometown, but he carries his childhood in the Bronx with him. Had his story been different—easier—he might not be able to relate to his students so fully or empower their families so well. But fortunately for the students of Denver Public Schools, he’s now exactly where he should be. The way Marrero sees it, his job is to equip the students in his schools to be exactly who they want to be, regardless of where they come from or where they’re going.

Marrero’s advice for aspiring school leaders? “Don’t wait for permission to lead,” he says. “Go find those mentors. Build your coalitions. Claim your space. And remember that your lived experience is not a liability—it’s your superpower.”