Ode to a Teacher

Originally posted March 9, 2006

I had a great teacher in fifth grade. Her name was Mrs. Suwannath. We all complained when we had her, calling her Mrs. Sewer-snot and making fun of her New York accent and knack for pronouncing words that end in "a" with "er" (banana would become bananer), but she was actually a challenging teacher and is the first person I credit with motivating me to take an interest in writing.

Mrs. Suwannath was one of those teachers who spent her time fostering creative thinking in her students. Of course, we were too young to understand it then; we thought we were just the minions of an overly hard instructor. But looking back, I never had a teacher like that or did those types of assignments again. She was the type of teacher who had us writing poems modeled after famous poets' styles (Robert Frost, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Emily Dickinson, William Blake, Lewis Carroll, etc.), which was an excellent way of breaking down something as serious and, often, confusing as poetry into something we could understand. At the end of the year, we even compiled our own class book of poetry, which every student received a bound copy of. I still have it. We called it "Too Many Worms in my Chocolate Chip Cookie." We did our own illustrations, too.

My fifth grade teacher was the first person who told me that my writing was good, and that I should keep going with it. I did a lot of things in that class. I entered a poetry contest and got an honorable mention. It was the first time I said I wanted to grow up and become like Beverly Cleary -- in other words, an author. I played Prometheus in a class play, because those are the kinds of plays Mrs. Suwannath had us do. We didn't play around with kiddie stuff...no, we did a Greek tragedy. As Prometheus, I had to paint my face silver and pretend to be tied to a "rock" (a table flipped onto its side) for about an hour while trying to remember lots of lines as all our parents watched.

It was also during that year that I read all of the Chronicles of Narnia books, which kicked my imagination into overdrive. I can see its influences reflected in some of the poetry I wrote that year. It was also the year I learned how to make a bow and arrow out of a Bic pen, a paperclip and a rubberband, and the year we went to outdoor school to learn about nature. It was in Mrs. Suwannath's very classroom that we dissected a trachea and some lungs (they were from sheep, don't worry). That was the first class in which I actually drew something I liked -- a chinese dragon. I had drawn it on a normal piece of paper and it was supposed to be poster-sized, so when I lamented that I'd never be able to draw it a second time -- especially bigger -- Mrs. Suwannath copied the drawing onto a clear sheet and put it on the overhead projector. Voila...I was able to trace my drawing at poster size. She put it on the door of the classroom for the rest of the year.

I don't remember much about math, history and other things in that class, but I remember the writing and English lessons. I remember Mrs. Suwannath always saying that our behavior as a class was "giving me tuberculosis." She spewed out little sayings like "oh kugel," and she told us of faraway Thailand, where her family and husband were from. She was notorious for "losing" her glasses, even though they were always on top of her head. She had a corner of the classroom called the "Book Look Nook," which was a quiet place to go and read some of the books she stocked there, or to just study. She had a big emphasis on reading and vocabulary.

Mrs. Suwannath died a few years ago of ovarian cancer. We found out when letters were mailed from the school to former students. I have to dig up the letter at home, but it was one of the most intelligent things I've ever read. It talked about the need to educate students by encouraging thought and creativity. She pointed out the differences in education today, which isn't challenging enough to force students to improve. I still get really sad when I think about the fact that the world had to lose someone like Mrs. Suwannath so young. I'm disappointed that other elementary school students aren't able to benefit from her teaching and personality. We never knew it then, but she was a great teacher. And I haven't become an author, per se, but I still took an interest in writing and became a journalist.

I still enjoy poetry.

"If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain."

-Emily Dickinson, Part One: Life, VI

Dom commented: i quite agree! she was the one who really made me feel like i was good at art! look at us now! that's funny.