🔥 The Vendido's Victory: How Augustine Romero Betrayed Mexican American Studies for Personal Gain, TUSD Votes to Give Romero $40K
From MAS hero to grade-changing principal to federal lawsuit winner—the complete corruption timeline
This article is based on the TUSD Whistleblower Letter #112.
😽 Keepin’ It Simple Summary for Younger Readers
👧🏾✊🏾👦🏾
Here is the emojified version of your text:
A school administrator named Augustine Romero 📚 who once helped create programs celebrating Mexican American culture 🇲🇽 ended up betraying those same values for personal gain.
As a high school principal, he illegally changed failing students' grades to passing ones without their teacher's permission 📝➡️✅, which violates state law ⚖️.
When caught, he first lied about it, then blamed others. He also filed a lawsuit against the school district claiming discrimination 🏛️ while falsely pretending to be part of a Native American tribe he had no real connection to 🏕️❌. A powerful school board member who was his friend helped protect him from consequences 🤝.
Even though he caused many problems at his school and broke laws, the district recently paid him $40,000 to settle his lawsuit 💸, using money that could have helped students who need therapy services instead 🏥.
🗝️ Takeaways
🚨 Augustine Romero abandoned the Mexican American Studies program he helped create when it became politically inconvenient for his career
📚 As Pueblo High principal, illegally changed six students' grades in violation of state law and district policy
🤥 Initially lied about the grade-changing scandal, then retaliated against teacher Yolanda Sotelo, who exposed him
⚖️ Filed federal lawsuit claiming discrimination while falsely appropriating Yaqui tribal identity for legal advantage
🎭 Adelita Grijalva's 20-year "compadre" relationship enabled systematic protection from accountability
💸 TUSD's compromised legal defense helped Romero win a $40,000 settlement, while 517 students lack occupational therapy
🔍 Superintendent Gabriel Trujillo committed perjury by lying under oath about Romero's performance record
📉 Under Romero's leadership, Pueblo High lost magnet status with an 86% failure rate in English and 79% in math
The Vendido's Victory: How Augustine Romero and TUSD's Corruption Machine Stole from Our Children
¡Órale, hermanos y hermanas! Sometimes the truth hits you like a slap across the face with a wet tortilla—shocking, messy, and impossible to ignore.
The latest TUSD Whistleblower Letter 112 delivers exactly that kind of truth, exposing how Augustine "Auggie" Romero—a man the community once trusted—transformed from Mexican American Studies advocate into what our abuelas would call a vendido.
This sellout betrayed everything he once claimed to represent.
As an Indigenous Chicano voice from these sacred borderlands, I need you to understand something fundamental: this isn't just another bureaucratic scandal. This is the story of how institutional corruption operates, how good people get co-opted by power, and how our children's futures are compromised to protect the careers of adults who have lost their way.
Let me break down this complex web of corruption so you can see exactly how Augustine Romero transitioned from community hero to community villain, becoming like the herpes that never goes away for Tucson’s largest school district, and how TUSD's leadership facilitated every step of his downfall.
Understanding the Mexican American Studies Connection: From Hero to Vendido
To truly grasp the depth of Augustine Romero's betrayal, we must begin with his origins in the Mexican American Studies (MAS) program. Picture this: in the early 2000s, Romero was the former head of TUSD's groundbreaking MAS program. This program affirmed the cultural identity and historical contributions of Chicano students who had been systematically erased from mainstream education.
This program represented something revolutionary in Arizona education—courses that taught our children about César Chávez, the Chicano Movement, Indigenous history, and the complex realities of borderland existence. For many familias in the Old Pueblo, MAS felt like educational justicia—justice after generations of having our stories silenced.
But here's where the story gets complicated, and where we need to understand how corruption works: when Arizona's then-Superintendent of Public Instruction Tom Horne launched his racist attack on MAS, claiming it promoted "resentment toward a race or class of people," Romero faced a choice. He could stand with the program he helped create and the students it served, or he could protect his own career advancement.
El vendido eligió su carrera—the sellout chose his career.
As the Whistleblower Group explains: "Augustine Romero abandoned MAS to take care of himSELF." When the program came under attack, when students and teachers needed him most, Romero walked away to accept a specially created position that Superintendent John Pedicone invented for him—director of multicultural curriculum, earning $98,000 per year.
Consider this for a moment: the man who helped create a program celebrating Chicano resistance ultimately abandoned that resistance when it threatened his personal advancement.
This pattern—choosing personal benefit over community loyalty—would define everything that followed.
Note: TUSD has still not reinstated the MAS program it banned under Tom Horne, and recently, TUSD voted to eliminate DEI, under pressure from the same Tom Horne.
The Enabler-in-Chief: How Adelita Grijalva Built Her "Maquina de Daño"
Now we need to understand the power structure that enabled Romero's corruption. Enter Adelita Grijalva, who the Whistleblower Group calls the architect of TUSD's "maquina de daño"—machine of harm.
For over twenty years as a TUSD Board member, Grijalva built a network of influence that prioritized personal relationships over public service.
The relationship between Grijalva and Romero illustrates how corruption works in our community. They weren't just colleagues—they were compadres, using familial language like "comadre" and "compadre" to describe their bond. Romero regularly posted on Facebook about visiting the Grijalva home, calling them "familia." This wasn't professional networking; this was the creation of a protection racket disguised as friendship.
Here's how the machine worked: Grijalva used her board position to influence hiring decisions, protect incompetent administrators, and manipulate legal processes to benefit her inner circle. When Romero needed career advancement, Grijalva was there. When he faced consequences for misconduct, she provided protection. When he filed his federal lawsuit, she helped orchestrate the district's compromised legal defense.
The Whistleblower Group documents how "Adelita Grijalva and Augustine Romero have always made it known that they have a long-standing, close-knit friendship. Augustine advertised this information throughout TUSD once Adelita became a member of the Governing Board twenty-two years ago. It protected and seemed to warm him, much like the Mexican wool poncho he used to fashion during cold winter days at 1010 East 10th."
This imagery—the poncho providing warmth—perfectly captures how personal relationships in TUSD provided protection from professional accountability.
The Grade-Changing Scandal: When Corruption Meets Children's Futures
Let's examine the specific incident that should have ended Romero's career but instead became the foundation for his financial windfall. In May 2016, while serving as Principal of Pueblo High School, Romero changed the grades of six students from failing to passing without the teacher's permission, allowing them to graduate when they hadn't earned the right to do so.
To understand why this matters, we need to grasp both the legal and ethical dimensions of this violation. Arizona Revised Statutes sections 15-701(E) and 15-701.01(E) explicitly state that "Teachers hold the duty to make promotion and retention decisions, including passing or failing students in high school. The governing board of the school district can overturn a teacher's decision."
Notice what this law states: only teachers can determine grades, and only the governing board can override a teacher's decisions. Principals have no authority to change grades. None. When Romero changed those grades, he violated state law, district policy, and the professional trust that forms the foundation of public education.
But the legal violation was just the beginning. The Whistleblower Group reveals that when KGUN9 first exposed the scandal, Romero's initial response was to lie: "Last night on KGUN9 On Your Side, it was reported that I changed the grades of four seniors. Channel 9 irresponsibly aired this report without first having a dialogue with me or receiving an official statement from our District. Equally important, is the fact that I didn't change any grades."
¿En serio? Really?
When caught breaking the law, his first instinct was to lie to the public, blame the media, and attack the teacher who exposed him. Only when the evidence became overwhelming did he admit to the grade changes, and even then, he layered his admission with more lies and recruited subordinates to help discredit the beloved former MAS teacher, Yolanda Sotelo.
This pattern—lie first, attack the whistleblower, admit guilt only when forced, then blame others—would become Romero's standard operating procedure.
The Teacher Who Stood for Truth: Yolanda Sotelo's Courage
We need to pause here to honor the courage of Yolanda Sotelo, the teacher whose grades Romero changed without permission. According to emails revealed by the Arizona Daily Independent, Sotelo was a 31-year veteran educator who had helped develop the Culturally Relevant Curriculum that Romero violated.
When senior classes were left without a teacher, Sotelo stepped up because, as she wrote, "I did not want to see the students get cheated again." She demanded academic rigor because she wanted students "to be ready and successful" if they continued their education.
When Romero pressured her to change failing grades, Sotelo wrote: "I now find myself in a dilemma that I should not be in. I asked students to read and show comprehension of the novels they read. I asked them to write a research paper, analysis, and argumentative essays that are required of the CR program, but also required of any English class."
Esta maestra entendía—this teacher understood that lowering standards doesn't help students; it cheats them of the education they deserve. Her refusal to compromise academic integrity exposed Romero's willingness to sacrifice educational quality for administrative convenience.
For her principled stand, Sotelo faced retaliation. The Whistleblower Group documents that Romero "directed the teacher not to step on Pueblo High School property—a blatant form of retaliation, surely another form of sin."
Consider this: a veteran teacher is banned from her own school for refusing to participate in grade fraud. This is how corruption operates—by punishing integrity and rewarding complicity.
The Institutional Protection Racket: How TUSD Enabled Corruption
Here's where we need to understand how institutional corruption works at the systemic level. When Assistant Superintendent Abel Morado tried to hold Romero accountable by imposing a ten-day suspension for his policy violations, Adelita Grijalva and HT Sanchez intervened to protect their compadre.
The Whistleblower Group reveals how "suddenly, a letter (likely predated) appeared authored by HT Sanchez stating that Augustine's disciplinary matters at hand had been previously 'resolved.' Of course, the issues at hand had never been 'resolved.' The rabbit out of the hat fooled no one."
This manipulation of the disciplinary process illustrates how corruption operates: when accountability threatens the network, the network responds by creating fake documentation and pressuring honest administrators. Morado, who had been doing his job properly, suddenly found his "assignments dried up" in retaliation for challenging Grijalva's chosen one.
The pattern continued when Romero's contract came up for renewal. Despite his documented misconduct, Superintendent Gabriel Trujillo recommended renewal, contrary to the Assistant Superintendent of Secondary Schools' advice, who was aware of Romero's true performance record.
The Federal Court Case: When Justice Gets Manipulated
The most damning aspect of this entire saga involves how TUSD's legal defense of Romero's federal lawsuit was compromised from the beginning. The Whistleblower Group exposes how the same law firm that "investigated" Romero's grade-changing also represented TUSD in his lawsuit—a conflict of interest that essentially guaranteed Romero's victory.
According to federal court documents cited in the letter, key witnesses who could have testified about Romero's misconduct were never deposed:
The teacher whose grades were changed was not deposed.
No Pueblo High School teachers were deposed.
No assistant principals who helped Romero change grades were deposed.
Assistant Superintendent Abel Morado, who imposed discipline, was not deposed.
Security staff who dealt with break-ins and theft at Pueblo were not deposed.
Board members who voted against Romero's contract renewal were not deposed.
This systematic exclusion of damaging testimony wasn't accidental—it was orchestrated. As the Whistleblower Group observes: "Had the attorney disclosed all of the evidence against Augustine and deposed individuals who would have provided truthful testimony, the Court would have thrown the case out shortly after it was filed."
Instead, only witnesses favorable to Romero were called, including Adelita Grijalva, Gabriel Trujillo, HT Sanchez, and Janet Rico-Uhrig—all members of the protection network who had enabled his misconduct for years.
The Lies Under Oath: Gabriel Trujillo's Perjury
One of the most serious revelations in the Whistleblower Letter concerns the testimony of current Superintendent Gabriel Trujillo under oath. In his deposition, Trujillo claimed he had no performance concerns about Romero and that Romero "performed the functions of Principal at Pueblo High School fine."
But the letter reveals testimony from Janet Rico-Uhrig that directly contradicts Trujillo's sworn statement. According to Rico-Uhrig, when she told Trujillo about Romero's job applications, "Dr. Trujillo's comment was, 'I won't ever let him get to the governing board.'"
When Rico-Uhrig asked what he meant, "Dr. Trujillo responded that 'he was not happy with [Plaintiff]'s performance as a principal and that he would not move his name to consideration for those higher-level positions.'"
This contradiction reveals that Trujillo lied under oath—a federal crime. In private, he admitted Romero was incompetent. Under oath, he claimed Romero performed well. This perjury helped Romero win his lawsuit, but it also exposed the superintendent as someone willing to commit crimes to protect the corruption network.
The Yaqui Identity Exploitation: Cultural Appropriation as Legal Strategy
Perhaps the most personally offensive aspect of Romero's lawsuit involves his false claim to Yaqui tribal identity. The Whistleblower Group reports that "individuals from the Yaqui Tribe contacted us to inform us that YOU, Augustine, have never been interested or active with the Tribe. Several individuals stated that you identified yourself as Yaqui in your lawsuit to distinguish yourself from Latinx individuals who were hired for some of the jobs for which you applied but were not selected."
As an Indigenous person, this exploitation of tribal identity for personal gain represents a particularly despicable form of cultural appropriation. Our identities are not costumes to be worn when convenient for legal strategy. They represent sacred connections to ancestral lands, spiritual traditions, and community responsibilities that demand authentic participation, not opportunistic exploitation.
The fact that Romero, who abandoned the Chicano students he once served, would then exploit Indigenous identity for personal legal advantage reveals the depth of his moral bankruptcy. To add salt to the wound, then-Supervisor Adelita Grijalva helped Romero secure a job as the Director of Education for the Pascua Yaqui Tribe, a position he has held to this day.
No tiene vergüenza—he has no shame.
The Financial Cost: Stealing from Children's Futures
Let's talk numbers, because every dollar stolen through corruption is a dollar not spent on our children's education. The Whistleblower Group reports that TUSD recently voted 4-1 to authorize a $40,000 settlement for Romero's lawsuit, with only Board Member Sadie Shaw having the courage to vote no.
But this $40,000 represents just the tip of the iceberg. According to the Three Sonorans' coverage of the June 10, 2025 board meeting, while TUSD pays settlements to corrupt former employees, 517 students are being denied occupational therapy services they're legally entitled to receive. The district employs only seven occupational therapists to serve 860 students who require services, leaving 6.4 positions unfilled.
Cuarenta mil dólares—forty thousand dollars could have hired therapists, reduced class sizes, or supported family engagement programs. Instead, it went to reward the man who abandoned MAS, violated state law, exploited tribal identity, and retaliated against honest teachers.
The Pattern of Institutional Racism: Permanent vs. Interim Leadership
The Whistleblower Group also exposes how TUSD's corruption enables institutional racism through discriminatory leadership assignments. While schools serving predominantly white, affluent communities receive permanent principals, schools serving students of color get interim appointments year after year.
The letter documents how "the Board's appointment of Jon Lansa as interim principal at Tucson High Magnet School for the second consecutive year represents institutional negligence." As community advocate Janna Hamilton noted: "TUSD's high magnet school is a majority-minority school... I doubt he would pull such a stunt if it involves Sabino, Sahuaro, or University High."
This pattern reveals how corruption and racism intersect: the same networks that protect incompetent administrators like Romero also ensure that schools serving our communities receive inferior leadership. In contrast, schools serving privileged communities get permanent investment.
The Broader Implications: Understanding Systemic Corruption
What the Romero case reveals is how institutional corruption operates as a system, not just through individual acts of wrongdoing. Every person who enabled his misconduct, from Adelita Grijalva manipulating board votes to Gabriel Trujillo lying under oath, contributed to a network that prioritized personal relationships over public service.
This network operated according to clear principles: protect insiders at all costs, punish outsiders who challenge the system, manufacture documentation when convenient, and use legal processes as weapons against accountability rather than tools for justice.
The Whistleblower Group connects this local corruption to broader patterns under Trump's administration, noting how "A political and cultural commentator has referred to Donald Trump as making his second term a worldwide playground for gangsters—those who use power, intimidation, and force to gain added power and financial resources."
They continue: "What is occurring at the national level has some degree of duplication with what has been taking place within TUSD, and our efforts to expose the problems and corruption serve the same purpose."
This connection isn't hyperbole—it's recognition that authoritarian tactics scale from federal to local levels, where personal loyalty networks capture public institutions for private benefit.
The Human Cost: Real Students, Real Damage
While administrators enriched themselves through corrupt schemes, real students suffered real consequences. Under Romero's leadership at Pueblo High School, the Whistleblower Group documents:
The school lost its magnet status in 2017.
Discipline problems escalated, including students hospitalized for drug ingestion on campus.
Weapons became "a significant problem."
Academic failure rates reached 86% in English Language Arts and 79% in math.
Teachers fled due to poor leadership and grade inflation policies that undermined educational integrity.
One student's father shared their child's perspective: "My daughter was distraught that students were given passing grades when they did not complete the required work to pass. She said, 'Papa, it is not fair to all of us who did our work to earn our high school diploma. But, what is even worse is that the head of the school cheated in front of the whole world and got away with it.'"
Esta niña entendía la injusticia—this child understood the injustice better than the adults supposedly leading her education. When children have higher ethical standards than their principals, the system has failed catastrophically.
The Community Heroes: Voices of Truth and Resistance
Despite the institutional darkness, the Whistleblower Letter also reveals community heroes who refused to accept corruption as normal.
Teacher Yolanda Sotelo stood up for academic integrity despite facing retaliation.
Assistant Superintendent Abel Morado tried to impose appropriate discipline despite political pressure.
Board Member Sadie Shaw voted against the corrupt settlement, despite being the only one in her stand.
The anonymous members of the TUSD Whistleblower Group deserve particular recognition. Comprised of "a Large Dedicated Collection of Concerned Current TUSD Administrators, Teachers, Parents, Grandparents, Former Students, Retired Administrators, & Teachers Who Speak and Write the Truth," this coalition represents grassroots accountability in action.
Their 112 letters documenting years of corruption serve as a crucial check on institutional power, proving that ordinary people can challenge extraordinary corruption when they organize around shared values of transparency and justice.
Looking Forward: From Corruption to Community
The Augustine Romero saga teaches us several crucial lessons about how corruption works and how communities can respond:
First, corruption rarely involves cartoonish villains twirling mustaches. It more often involves people like Romero, who started with good intentions but lost their way when personal advancement conflicted with community loyalty. Understanding this helps us create systems that reward integrity rather than opportunism.
Second, corruption operates through networks, not just individuals. Focusing solely on Romero overlooks the role of Adelita Grijalva, Gabriel Trujillo, HT Sanchez, and others in enabling his misconduct. Real accountability requires addressing entire networks, not just scapegoating individuals.
Third, corruption thrives when communities are excluded from oversight. TUSD's systematic exclusion of parent and community voices from decision-making created the conditions where insider networks could operate without external accountability.
Fourth, institutional corruption particularly harms communities of color because we depend more heavily on public institutions for services and opportunities. When schools fail, when legal processes are manipulated, and when public resources are stolen, our families bear disproportionate costs.
The Path Forward: Nuestra Resistencia
Moving forward requires both immediate accountability and long-term systemic change:
Immediate Accountability: Current TUSD leadership must face consequences for enabling corruption. Gabriel Trujillo's perjury demands investigation by law enforcement. Board members who voted in favor of the settlement must explain their votes to their constituents. Adelita Grijalva's congressional campaign must answer for her role in TUSD corruption.
Systemic Reform: TUSD needs new leadership committed to transparency, community engagement, and educational quality over institutional protection. This means supporting candidates in upcoming elections who prioritize student welfare over administrative convenience.
Community Oversight: We need independent community monitoring of district decisions, transparent budget processes, and meaningful participation in policy development. Democratic governance requires active community engagement, not passive acceptance of institutional theater.
Cultural Healing: The Romero case reveals how institutional corruption can co-opt and corrupt individuals from our own community. We need processes for accountability that don't harm individuals but also don't excuse misconduct in the name of cultural solidarity.
Conclusion: La Verdad Nos Hará Libres
The truth revealed in TUSD Whistleblower Letter 112 is ugly, complex, and painful. It reveals how Augustine Romero transformed from a MAS advocate to a vendido, how Adelita Grijalva built a machine of harm disguised as community leadership, and how TUSD's institutional corruption systematically betrayed the children and families it was supposed to serve.
But truth-telling, however painful, creates possibility for healing and transformation. When we understand how corruption works, we can build systems that resist it. When we see how community voices get excluded, we can organize to reclaim our democratic participation. When we witness how children suffer due to adult failures, we can recommit to prioritizing their welfare.
La verdad nos hará libres—the truth will set us free. But only if we have the courage to face it fully, the wisdom to learn from it completely, and the determination to act on it collectively.
Our children deserve schools that nurture rather than neglect, that engage families rather than exclude them, that prioritize learning over institutional protection. Getting there requires exposing corruption wherever we find it, supporting integrity whenever we see it, and organizing for justice however long it takes.
¡Seguimos en la lucha! The struggle continues, and so do we.
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