Frank McCourt, ‘Teacher Man.’ book review
Friday, 25 July 2008
Frank ‘Teacher man’ McCourt was a teacher in New York before he invented the ‘misery memoir’ with what turned out to be the 1st volume of his autobiography, ‘Angela’s Ashes’. Then there was ‘Tis’ – which was about… something else – him when he was older?
I may be completely wrong about that. It might have been a book about salmon fishing in Nigeria. I have never either of those books. I have always felt the need to leave those sort of books alone. ‘A Child Called It’. The sense of vicarious pleasure or despair the reader gets from empathising with those kind of stories is a little odd, I feel. Like being addicted to reading about serial killers. Hmmm.
Anyway, miserable childhood memoirs. Despair? Alcoholism? Crazy father drinking away his dole cheque leaving you eating baked beans for Christmas dinner? Nah, no thanks, all sounds a bit too familiar to me. (Oh, look, I’ve started on my own Misery Memoir already! Shameful.)
So McCourt wasn’t really at the front line queuing up for my readerly attentions when I was looking for something to read. Something that might be of relevance to me in my teacherly life. Something that might function as pleasurable distraction but be somehow useful to me as an aspirant teacher. Something that might teach me something. Lots of somethings.
But I read a quote from McCourt in a text book and decided to take a look at Teacher Man. This book is full of great quotes, here is his idea of what you want as a teacher,
“Principals and other figures of authority passing in the hallways will hear sounds of excitement from your room. They’ll peer hrough the door window in wonder at all the raised hands, the eagerness and excitement on the faces of these boys and girls, these plumbers, electricians, beauticians, carpenters, mechanics, typists, machinists.”
It’s quite lovely to hear about how nervous and insecure he is amongst these groups of shouty, confident, rebellious New York youths. Whilst the book itself lacks a dynamic focus or plot, it is very good on incidents and aphorisms. Here’s McCourt on owning the space in the classroom:
“The best move of all is to establish yourself as a presence and do it outside in the hallway. Outside, I say. That’s your territory and when you’re out there you’ll be seen as a strong teacher, fearless, ready to face the swarm. That’s what a class is, a swarm. And you’re a warrier teacher. It’s something people don’t think about. Your territory is your aura, it goes with you everywhere … never let them invade your territory. Never. And remember: teachers who sit or even stand behind their desks are essentially insecure and should try another line of work.”
I love that. It makes me want to prowl and growl around a classroom. It’s a very alpha male thing to do. So probably not really appropriate or achievable for most of us, but it’s a principle and a fantastic fantasy. But in reality, even Frank knows it won’t work all the time:
“Every class has its chemistry. There are some classes you enjoy and look forward to. they know you like them and they like you in return. Sometimes they’ll tell you that was a pretty good lesson and you’re on top of the world. That somehow gives you energy and makes you want to sing on the way home.
“There are some classes you wish would take the ferry to Manhattan and never return. There’s something hostile about the way they enter and leave the room that tells you what they think of you … You try lessons that worked with other classes but even that doesn’t help and it’s because of that chemistry.
“They know when they have you on the run. They have instincts that detect your frustrations. There were days I wanted to sit behind my desk and let them do whatever they damn well pleased. I just could not reach them.”
So there’s enough quotable lines and enough quoted for the publishers to want to start worrying about copyright abuse….
The book itself – as a memoir – or a story – felt a little lacking in narrative motivation. I needed a throughline of plot. It’s quite one dimensional in that you learn so little about colleagues or the outside world or his wife. It stops at the classroom door, but then I guess that is the point. But for teacherly interest it’s something of a minor classic. As an English teacher (which I am – or hope to be) it even has a few good ideas for lesson plans. Read the book and see if there are any ideas you can copy.
“English teachers say if you can teach grammar in a vocational high school you can teach anything anywhere.”
There’s something in that. In a lot of ways, I love the quotes you can grab from this book more than the overall entity itself. Love the words, the pathos, the bathos and (who was the 3rd muskateer?) the reality of the lives portrayed, the unchanging nature of further education from 1970s New York to 21st century Fulchester... the eternal questions and struggles remain the same:
“After eight years at McKee … I still struggled to hold the attention of five classes every day though I was learning what was obvious: You have to make your own way in the classroom. You have to find yourself. You have to develop your own styles, your own techniques. You have to tell the truth or you’ll be found out.”