In fifth grade I had the regrettable experience of having Mrs. Adele Parks for my
teacher. She was a tall skinny lady with short curly grey-white hair. I felt certain her
personality was phony: She was a totally passionate lady! Whew! Passionate about everything! And to prove she was passionate, she wore flame red polka-dot dresses which matched precisely with her flame red lipstick, nail polish and shoes! We as impish fifth graders were prone to do, jested about her shoes being borrowed from Dorothy of
Wizard of Oz fame.

Among other distractions, her voice was as shrill as the lunch whistle from the factory located between the school and the river channel. I believe discordant describes it best. To suggest I didn’t like her would be more tactful than honest. I had never disliked a teacher up to this point, and this was definitely a new experience that I was not sure how to handle.

However in all fairness, I did learn a lot from dear Mrs. Parks. In fact, I learned more about Mexico than I ever cared to know! I could have appreciated learning the language…but what did she teach us? How to make a crepe paper sombrero in order to learn to dance the Mexican Hat Dance! But Mrs. Parks was not limited to just Mexico in what she was passionate about. She embraced other passions like music and art.

Music Lesson For Who?

Regarding music she played the autoharp extremely well. I was genuinely impressed by her musical ability until the day she asked me to try playing it. I think she knew I took piano lessons and wanted to see if she could prove to the class how difficult this instrument was to play – making her a virtuoso of the autoharp! I was sure I would make a fool of myself, but I shyly walked to the front of the room. And to my utter amazement found the autoharp was an incredibly easy instrument to play – why even my good friend Pedro-Roberto Amarillo who had no musical ability caught on right away!

Mrs. Parks seemed a little disturbed my best friend Josie and I asked to let Pedro try to play this interesting instrument, especially when he proved how easy it was to play.

Don’t Sing It Again, Mrs. “P”

Although Mrs. Parks’ ability to play the autoharp had all of us viewing her in a new light, until Pedro demonstrated how simple it was to play this instrument, it was her singing that is most memorable.

Why that Mrs. Parks would stop traffic three blocks away! The class thought she was trying to compete with Ella Fitzgerald! One of her favorite songs, (which I learned to detest) was the Streets of Laredo. She would sing that bit of morbidity with all the gusto she could muster! We all held our breath waiting for the windows to shatter. No one ever asked her for an encore of that song!

Creativity Lost

Sad to say it was Mrs. Parks’ art lesson which planted the seed of utter detestation in me. I loved to draw mountains, clouds and pine trees…and sometimes a palm tree.
I took inspiration from the mountains I knew, seen and loved: the rugged Sierra Nevada’s.

I knew a lot about how these mountains looked, having spent two weeks out of every summer basking in their sheer beauty. Now all of this could have been fantastic as Mrs. Parks always assigned us to draw clouds, mountains and trees. No problem, after all I had first hand experience. And being taught to be honest in all that I attempted, I knew just how to draw clouds, mountains and trees. Wasn’t this right? WRONG!

Mrs. Parks had a cruel, vindictive way of massacring my masterpieces! Pointing to my beautiful creation with her slender well-manicured finger, she would shriek, “Clouds have flat bottoms! They do not have uneven edges!”

But the clouds across the Sierras were huge like a mountain, growing to monstrous size. And these clouds are roly-poly tumbling and churning as if caught in a giant washing machine. I admit I wear glasses but I knew what I had seen. Uncomfortably Mrs. Parks hovered over my shoulder until I was compelled into the dishonest act of flattening the bottoms of my clouds.

The seed of rebellion began to take root inside of me. I had never willfully disobeyed a teacher. I took courage and drew what I had perceived with my eyes. My rendition was honest. Upon my paper I drew beautiful cotton-candy like clouds, sumptuously rounded and fluffy in every way. And with my delectable clouds, magnificent mountains rising proud with sharp peaks – just like the Sierras. A few brush strokes created a forest of pine trees with the uppermost branches pointing heavenward.

Alas this was my downfall! Mrs. Parks used my painting to demonstrate what not to do. She stood in front of the class and dispensed with her theory of mountains and trees. “Mountains, are all nicely rounded, Class. And trees have a straight trunk with a nice circle of leaves at the top.” She admonished these lies in a tone of finality as she peered over her spectacles.

“Good Grief!” I often thought, “Mountains like heaps of mashed potatoes in a bowl! Trees like lollipops!” Yet my recollections of the majestic Sierra Nevada Range
produced vivid impressions of towering peaks with rough sharp edges. I scrutinized the family photo album to confirm I was not having an illusion. The photos confirmed by case: Mountains are jagged! I studied the pine trees in these pictures, all had slender branches at the top pointing heavenward. I looked outside at our large apricot tree, and it did not look like a lollipop either!

Then came the ill-fated day, she gave us the Park’s premise on color. This was in respect to clouds and mountains of course. “Clouds are always white. Mountains are always purple. ALWAYS!” She said her voice rising an octave.

I didn’t even protest this fable. If poor Mrs. Adele Parks had never seen the effects of an overcast sky; a sunrise or sunset, then who was I to confuse her mentality?
I felt sorry for her…having missed these wonders.

It’s been many years since fifth grade. I often think of Mrs. Parks, although I didn’t like her very much, she taught me a lesson in perseverance. It is not often I pick up paint brush to paint what I see. Oh no, my tools have changed to pen, paper and computer. I still visit the Sierras every chance I get; I cease to be awed at the beauty of this corner of God’s masterpiece.

Thus I have only one conclusion, God is the Master Painter. He has created clouds, mountains, trees which no one can copy. And which make Mrs. Adele Parks’ art lesson a sad fable. A wonderful thought plays in my memory each time I think about this grade school experience as I visit the Sierras:

God saw all that He had made, and it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning – the sixth day. Thus the heaven and earth were completed in all their vast array. Genesis 1:31 to 2: 1