Teacher Man: A Memoir

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Overview

Nearly a decade ago Frank McCourt became an unlikely star when, at the age of sixty-six, he burst onto the literary scene with Angela's Ashes, the Pulitzer Prize -- winning memoir of his childhood in Limerick, Ireland. Then came 'Tis, his glorious account of his early years in New York.Now, here at last, is McCourt's long-awaited book about how his thirty-year teaching career shaped his second act as a writer. Teacher Man is also an urgent tribute to teachers everywhere. In bold and spirited prose featuring his irreverent wit and heartbreaking honesty, McCourt records the trials, triumphs and surprises he faces in public high schools around New York City. His methods anything but conventional, McCourt creates a lasting impact on his students through imaginative assignments (he instructs one class to write "An Excuse Note from Adam or Eve to God"), singalongs (featuring recipe ingredients as lyrics), and field trips (imagine taking twenty-nine rowdy girls to a movie in Times Square!). McCourt struggles to find his way in the classroom and spends his evenings drinking with writers and dreaming of one day putting his own story to paper.

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Author Information

Bio of Frank McCourt

Frank McCourt was born in 1930's Brooklyn to Irish immigrant parents, Malachy and Angela. At the age of four, McCourt and his family moved back to Ireland and settled in Limerick. Shortly thereafter, McCourt's father abandoned the family to a life of poverty and struggle that shaped young Frank's life and future profession as a writer of his own memoirs, the critically acclaimed Angela's Ashes. McCourt attended school until the age of 14, at which point he was forced to drop out to help support the family. In 1949, he scraped together enough money to afford passage back to America. Once there, he worked odd jobs until his decision to go back to school and persuaded New York University to allow him acceptance among the ranks of the collegiate. McCourt began to teach in 1970 at Seward Park High School in Manhatten's Lower East Side. His students led lives similar to his own meager beginnings and in an effort to connect with them, he told them stories of his own impoverished childhood. Hoping to stimulate his income, McCourt occasionally wrote articles for newspapers and magazines, all the while continuing to write down his memoirs. In 1972, McCourt began teaching at the prestigious Stuyvesant High School in Manhattan where his students constantly delighted him and urged him to pursue his own writings, even as he urged them in their prospective talents. In 1994 McCourt retired from teaching to finally take the time to write the story of his life. After so many years of taking notes and writing down anecdotes, McCourt had compiled an impressive history. This history became the critically acclaimed Angela's Ashes, which hit bookstores in 1996 and went on to become a Pulitzer prize winning story in 1997. McCourt also wrote 'Tis, a book almost as well known as Angela' Ashes. He always told his students to write what they know and write it from the heart. In taking his own advice, he earned the highest honors possible for an author to achieve. 030

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Additional Info

Imprint

Scribner

Filesize

594.85 KB

Number of Pages

400

eBook ISBN

9780743282000

Excerpt from: Teacher Man by Frank McCourt

If I knew anything about Sigmund Freud and psychoanalysis I'd be able to trace all my troubles to my miserable childhood in Ireland. That miserable childhood deprived me of self-esteem, triggered spasms of self pity, paralyzed my emotions, made me cranky, envious and disrespectful of authority, retarded my development, crippled my doings with the opposite sex, kept me from rising in the world and made me unfit, almost, for human society. How I became a teacher at all and remained one is a miracle and I have to give myself full marks for surviving all those years in the classrooms of New York. There should be a medal for people who survive miserable childhoods and become teachers, and I should be first in line for the medal and whatever bars might be appended for ensuing miseries.

I could lay blame. The miserable childhood doesn't simply happen. It is brought about. There are dark forces. If I am to lay blame it is in a spirit of forgiveness. Therefore, I forgive the following: Pope Pius XII; the English in general and King George VI in particular; Cardinal MacRory, who ruled Ireland when I was a child; the bishop of Limerick, who seemed to think everything was sinful; Eamonn De Valera, former prime minister (Taoiseach) and president of Ireland. Mr. De Valera was a half-Spanish Gaelic fanatic (Spanish onion in an Irish stew) who directed teachers all over Ireland to beat the native tongue into us and natural curiosity out of us. He caused us hours of misery. He was aloof and indifferent to the black and blue welts raised by schoolmaster sticks on various parts of our young bodies. I forgive, also, the priest who drove me from the confessional when I admitted to sins of self-abuse and self-pollution and penny thieveries from my mother's purse. He said I did not show a proper spirit of repentance, especially in the matter of the flesh. And even though he had hit that nail right on the head, his refusal to grant me absolution put my soul in such peril that if I had been flattened by a truck outside the church he would have been responsible for my eternal damnation. I forgive various bullying schoolmasters for pulling me out of my seat by the sideburns, for walloping me regularly with stick, strap and cane when I stumbled over answers in the catechism or when in my head I couldn't divide 937 by 739. I was told by my parents and other adults it was all for my own good. I forgive them for those whopping hypocrisies and wonder where they are at this moment. Heaven Hell Purgatory (if it still exists)

I can even forgive myself, though when I look back at various stages of my life, I groan. What an ass. What timidities. What stupidities. What indecisions and flounderings.