Quote of the Day (Frank McCourt, With Advice for a Young Teacher)

“Find what you love and do it. That's what it boils down to. I admit I didn't always love teaching. I was out of my depth. You're on your own in the classroom, one man or woman facing five classes every day, five classes of teenagers. One unit of energy against one hundred and seventy-five units of energy, one hundred and seventy-five ticking bombs, and you have to find ways of saving your own life. They may like you, they may even love you, but they are young and it is the business of the young to push the old off the planet.”—Longtime Irish-American teacher—and Pulitzer Prize-winning memoirist—Frank McCourt (1930-2009), Teacher Man (2005)

If we are lucky, most of us have had a teacher who’s made a difference in our lives. Too bad so much abuse gets hurled unfairly at such people who give so much of themselves; they’ll never get to hear the praise from those who feel that they are more of an inspiration than they can ever know.

(The image accompanying this post, showing Frank McCourt at a reading in Cologne, Germany, was taken Sept. 12, 2006 by Elke Wetzig.)

Quote of the Day (Frank McCourt, on His Students' Reaction to Required English Class Reading)

“Put everything away and open your books.

“What books?

“Whatever books you have for English.

“All we got is this Giants in the Earth and that's the most boring book in the world. And the whole class chants, Uh huh, boring, boring, boring.

“They tell me it's about some family from Europe out there on the prairie and everyone is depressed and talking about suicide and no one in the class can finish this book because it makes you want to commit suicide yourself. Why can't they read a nice romance where you don't have all these Europe people all gloomy on the prairie? Or why couldn’t they watch movies?”—Longtime Irish-born New York schoolteacher—and future Pulitzer Prize-winning memoirist—Frank McCourt (1930-2009), 'Tis: A Memoir (1999)

(The photo accompanying this post of Frank McCourt was taken by David Shankbone on March 21, 2007, at New York City's Housing Works bookstore, for a tribute to recently deceased Irish poet Benedict Keily. It comes from the photographer's blog post about the death of Frank McCourt and the memory of this photo.)