Frank McCourt: Learning from the Teacher Man

A number of years ago I read the book, Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt. It was a riveting story and I couldn’t put it down. It chronicles McCourt’s life in the town of Limerick, Ireland, growing up with his alcoholic and abusive father and his strong-willed and doggedly determined mother who raised seven kids and struggled through the deaths of three of them.

I’ve been feeling sad ever since I heard the news of his death. He was a great writer and storyteller who allowed the reader as well as the rest of the world to know what he was thinking and what he had suffered through in this life.

What was so refreshing was that he wrote about all of the difficulties, hardships and even misery that were a part of his life in both Ireland and the United States, with a sense of humor. While sometimes his was a little wrier than most of us are used to, I always like my humor with twist of lime, some sarcasm seeping through.

And in his book, Teacher Man, he chronicles with brutal honesty what most teachers have to go through when they actually face students in the classroom.

Frank was made to order for a guy like me, both in his writings and when he spoke. I had the pleasure of listening to him at my daughter Allison’s graduation from Manhattanville College and, of course, his tongue was not tamed by the setting.

One thing I remember him saying as he addressed all of the would-be teachers looking into their futures, was that when he walked into classroom he used to say, “There is at least one person who will learn something in this class and that person is me.”

When I heard it, it brought a smile to my face because I’ve often pondered how much people have learned from me teaching them in Sunday School, confirmation class, adult forum, book studies and Bible classes. Hmmm ... I suppose it’s best not to do follow up on that. But I will say that I have learned immensely from every classroom setting I’ve been in.

My only regret is that I came upon this realization somewhat late in the game. As the old saying goes, “If I only knew then what I know now, who knows, I could be president.” (Hahaha.)

I do know one thing that the old admonitions from kindergarten stop, look and listen still apply. You’re never too old to learn and to grow. It’s too bad that many people think they’ve arrived and you can see the calcification taking place in their minds as you converse with them. Whether it’s literature, travel, theology or just a lively conversation, a new horizon can appear in your mind is widened by the encounter.