Forreston’s junior high has long had a secret weapon: two Forreston alumni whose titles—paraprofessionals—only hint at the depth of their contribution. For more than a decade side by side, and much longer in total, Lucia Heitter and Becky McCoy have been the extra eyes, ears, and hands ensuring students succeed both inside and outside the classroom.

Ask them what their real job is, and Becky answers simply: “Support of students. Academic, social, emotional—whatever they need.” Lucia nods, adding, “Organization. Keeping kids on track, assisting teachers, doing whatever needs to be done.” Between the two of them, that means tutoring, testing accommodations, encouragement, and even the occasional tissue. “An extra Kleenex, an extra shoulder—whatever it takes,” Becky says with a smile.

Their roots in Forreston run deep. Becky began in 1998, serving in German Valley and Forreston elementary schools before settling into the junior high in 2009. Lucia joined a year later and has been a steady presence in the same building ever since. “I guess I’m the resident person here,” she says. Together, they’ve formed what many staff jokingly call a “dynamic duo,” though Becky laughs, “I don’t qualify for a cape.”

Both women came to education through winding paths. Becky worked in insurance, then nursing, before raising four children and stepping into the schools she’d supported as a PTO volunteer. Lucia worked in insurance as well, ran a daycare, and spent years caring for her terminally ill son before finding her way into the district. Those life experiences, they say, shaped the empathy and patience they bring to students. “It took me a while to realize I didn’t need to have all the answers,” Becky reflects. “It’s about figuring out what a student doesn’t get and helping them see it.” Lucia adds, “Some subjects I never thought I’d enjoy—like pre-algebra—now I actually love working on with kids.”

The role reaches far beyond academics. In many ways, they’ve been buffers—catching students who might otherwise slip through the cracks. “Junior high kids don’t always want to raise their hand and admit they’re lost,” Becky says. “You learn to watch for those who won’t say it out loud.” The two often trade strengths: one taking math, the other social studies, depending on comfort. “We just say, ‘This one’s yours,’” Lucia laughs.

Their impact is measured in growth stories. One student who once refused to speak or attend class now thrives as a high school sophomore. A teacher told Becky, “That’s because of you.” She shrugs off the praise but admits those moments are what she’ll miss most. “It’s gratifying,” she says. “These kids keep you relevant.”

For both, Forreston’s small-town character has been the constant thread. “Everyone treats you like family,” Lucia says. “People know you downtown, in the school, everywhere. It’s just a good place to be.” Becky agrees: “There’s genuine care here—from the community, the administration, the staff. It’s a comfortable place to work, and you’re treated well.”

This spring, the duo will retire, leaving what I jokingly call a “cape-shaped hole” in the building. Becky plans to split her time between helping her daughter’s business in Wisconsin, golfing, and enjoying her grandchildren. Lucia looks forward to football games, track meets, traveling—maybe even visiting Italy with friends—and finally making the trip to Germany to see where her mother grew up.

Their capes may remain unclaimed, but their legacy is woven into the lives of hundreds of Forreston students who found encouragement, patience, and love in their care. “We’ve just tried to give kids a little lift when they needed it,” Becky says quietly. That lift, multiplied across decades, has changed more trajectories than either of them will ever know. But we know, and we will not forget.