In 1959, Fidel Castro led guerrilla revolutionaries in overthrowing the brutal dictatorship of Fulgencio Batista on the island of Cuba. Although he promised free elections, free speech, and a more open economy, Castro quickly established a communist regime. Many revolutionaries who had fought against Batista’s dictatorship soon became counter revolutionaries, opposing Castro.
The threat to these counterrevolutionaries was so significant that the U.S. State Department, in partnership with Catholic Charities of Miami, launched Operation Pedro Pan. From December 1960 to the end of 1962, more than 14,000 Cuban children between the ages of 4 and 16 were granted special visa waivers and transported to refugee camps in Miami. Traveling with only a small bag, the children waited for reunification with their parents or family members, believing they would eventually return to Cuba—though most never did.
“Everyone thought that the political situation in Cuba wouldn’t last,” reflected Sister Leonor Esnard, OP. “It’s very typical that you would have a coup and somebody else would take over. But in this case, that did not happen.”
Leonor and her brother arrived in Miami in 1961 as part of Operation Pedro Pan. She recalls, before leaving Cuba, seeing men fighting for the Castro brothers’ revolution descending from the mountains, with many visiting her home. “They were sitting around with rosaries in their hands or hanging from their guns. Everyone was very happy because we thought we were going to have a democratic government. It turned out to be even more oppressive than the Batista government, which was bad enough,” she remembers. “When my father caught wind of this shift toward communist philosophy, he became a counter-revolutionary.”
Her father and her 11-year-old brother were part of the underground counter-revolution network fighting against Castro. “Then they started catching these people and killing them,” she said. “They were putting them up against a wall. Then they shot and killed them.” This same network was used to spread the word that their children could flee to safety in America.
When his close friend was captured and killed, Leonor’s father fled to Havana, where he was hidden by family members until he could escape on a fishing boat. After a day or two at sea, he was rescued by a ship carrying nuns and priests deported back to Spain, which transported him to La Coruna, Spain. The Servants of Mary Sisters traveling on the ship recognized her father after the sailors rescued him from his sinking boat. The Sisters vouched for him since he had lost all documentation in the sea. With the help of his brother, her father eventually made it to New York, where he was reunited with his brother Miguel.
“My father came to New York in the Fall of 1962 and my mother came to Miami and later Chicago in April,” Leonor remembers. “Then our paternal grandmother, who was a widow, also came. Shortly after, they closed all the flights to the United States for many years. We were one of the few families that reunited in the United States before the flights were canceled.”
Many Cuban families were politically divided, some unable to escape Cuba and others making it to America through legal or illegal paths. “Two of my grandma’s sons and one grandson, Henri, drove my grandma to the airport when she left Cuba,” said Leonor. “Henri told me years later that his father said that was the saddest day of his life.” They knew they’d never see each other again and it was so.
Leonor’s family eventually settled in a suburb of Chicago, her father worked for a steel and wire company and her mother worked as a nanny. Her grandma taught English to Spanish speakers. “When my parents came to America, they had nothing,” said Leonor. “In those days, most Cubans coming into the United States, even if they had been middle class or upper class, came with nothing.”
As Leonor finished high school, her family had no financial means to send her to college. However, her grandmother recognized her desire to learn and helped her secure a scholarship to Siena Heights College in 1963 via Adrian Dominican, Sister Lilia Dominguez and the prioress of the Adrian Dominicans at the time, Mother Genevieve Weber. To be closer to her family, Mother Genevieve transferred her scholarship to Saint Dominic College in St. Charles, Illinois, where she earned a bachelor’s degree in Sociology. After graduation, Leonor entered the Adrian Dominican Sisters in 1967 and began taking classes at Siena Heights as a postulant during her first year of candidacy. The Adrian Dominican congregation consists of 386 vowed women and 180 Associates, ministering in 19 states and three countries: the Dominican Republic, the Philippines, and Norway. Please check the accuracy of the current numbers with someone in the Motherhouse.
In the fall of 1971, the Adrian Dominican Sisters opened a Montessori school for children ages 2 ½ to 6 at St. Joseph Academy. Sister Leonor taught there for many years, earning her master’s degree in elementary education from Siena Heights while teaching full-time. Eventually, she earned her doctoral degree in curriculum and instruction and child development and was hired as an assistant professor at Barry University in Miami, Florida in 1993. Throughout her lifelong career as an educator, she has also traveled extensively to teach educators on Montessori methods and techniques.
Sister Leonor has shared her love for Montessori philosophy and for children for her entire career, educating hundreds of students including both children and adult learners in Montessori Education. She is now retired and lives in Miami. S Leonor serves as the resident Adrian Dominican sister in Powers Hall of Barry University.
“There were many Sisters who mentored me in my education and my career,” said Sister Leonor. “That’s what the Adrian Dominican Sisters do. We empower women, not just sisters, but women in general.”
