Teacher Man: A Memoir by Frank McCourt

Teacher Man: A Memoir by Frank McCourt

Author:Frank McCourt [McCourt, Frank]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 0743282000
Google: CjBaz2ybdqMC
Amazon: B004I1JQ9S
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 2005-11-15T08:00:00+00:00


Nancy Chu asks if she can talk to me after the last class of the day. She sits at her desk and waits for the room to empty. She reminds me she’s in my second-period sophomore class.

I’m here three years from China.

Your English is very good, Nancy.

Thank you. I learned English from Fred Astaire.

Fred Astaire?

I know all the songs from all his movies. My favorite is Top Hat. I sing his songs all the time. My parents think I’m crazy. My friends, too. All they know is rock and you can’t learn English from rock. I have trouble with my parents all the time over Fred Astaire.

Well, it’s unusual, Nancy.

Also, I watch you teach.

Oh.

And I wonder why you’re so uptight. You know English, so you should be cool. Kids all say if they knew English they’d be so cool. Sometimes you’re not uptight and the kids like that. They like it when you tell stories and sing. When I’m uptight I sing “Dancing in the Dark.” You should learn that, Mr. McCourt, and sing it to the class. You don’t have such a bad voice.

Nancy, I’m here to teach English. I’m not a song-and-dance man.

Could you tell me how to be an English teacher who won’t be uptight?

But what will your parents say?

They think I’m crazy already and they say they’re sorry they ever brought me from China, where there’s no Fred Astaire. They say I’m not even Chinese anymore. They say what’s the use of coming all the way from China just to be a teacher and listen to Fred Astaire. Coulda been a teacher over there. You come here to make money, my parents say. Mr. McCourt, will you tell me how to be an English teacher?

I will, Nancy.

Thanks, Mr. McCourt. Do you mind if I ask questions in class?

In class she says, You were lucky you knew English when you came to America. How did you feel when you came to America?

Confused. Do you know what confused means?

The word goes around the room. They explain it to one another in their own languages and heads nod, yeah, yeah. They’re surprised the man up there, the teacher, was once confused like them and he knew English and everything. So, we have something in common: confusion.

I tell them that when I came to New York I had trouble with language and the names of things. I had to learn food words: sauerkraut, cole slaw, hot dog, bagel mit a schmeer.

Then I tell them about my very first teaching experience, which had nothing to do with schools. Years before I became a teacher I worked in a hotel. Big George, a Puerto Rican cook, said five kitchen workers were trying to learn English and would pay fifty cents each if I’d teach them words, once a week, during lunch hour. Two dollars and fifty cents for an hour. At the end of the month I’d have twelve dollars and fifty cents, the most money I ever made at one time in my life.



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