{"id":3524,"date":"2005-08-19T08:18:38","date_gmt":"2005-08-19T12:18:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=3524"},"modified":"2024-04-26T22:01:51","modified_gmt":"2024-04-27T02:01:51","slug":"happy-birthday","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=3524","title":{"rendered":"Happy birthday to Frank McCourt"},"content":{"rendered":"

I read Angela’s Ashes: A Memoir<\/a>\"\" <\/i> while I was in grad school, and I remember sitting in the hear-a-pin-drop quiet of the New School University library – reading it. I came to the section where young Malachy gets someone’s dentures stuck in his mouth – the teeth jutting out of his face like some grotesque mask … and somehow, the father scoops Malachy up and they run to the doctor’s office, with young Frank trailing along behind. Frank, hurrying to catch up, can see Malachy’s face, hanging backwards over the father’s shoulder, and all he can see is the look of terror in Malachy’s eyes, but also the strange-ness of the enormous teeth jutting out of Malachy’s face.<\/p>\n

I started laughing so loudly, and so uncontrollably, that eventually I had to stand up and leave the library. I tried to contain myself … but finally … it was too much. Tears of laughter streamed down my face, and I could tell that I was disturbing people. So I stood up, still GUFFAWING, and staggered out of the quiet library, so that I could howl with laughter in peace.<\/p>\n

I’ve met Frank a couple of times – and also Malachy. They show up, randomly, at many Irish events here in the city – especially theatrical events. I remember being at some reception with Malachy McCourt, now an old jolly man, with jowls, etc., and I’m making small talk, but the entire time … I could not get out of my head the vision of him as a small terrified boy, with dentures stuck in his face. Bobbing over his father’s shoulder like an apparition of grotesque doom.<\/p>\n

Actually, my favorite Frank McCourt story isn’t even in Angela’s Ashes<\/i> – or the lesser sequel ‘Tis<\/i><\/a>\"\"<\/i>. I read some interview with him where he talked about his years as a teacher of English at a rough school on Staten Island. You can imagine. He walked into the situation only to find complete and utter chaos. Tough kids, barely enough school supplies, discipline problems, yadda yadda. So McCourt looks at the curriculum and looks at the copies of books that the school actually has to hand out to the students. You know, they’re supposed to read Middlemarch <\/a>\"\"<\/i> and stuff like that. McCourt decided – George Eliot? Staten Island? This won’t work. And decided instead to read Shakespeare’s plays with the class. You can imagine the pissed-off goombah response from the students: “We don’t know shit about him, Mr. McCourt … we can’t read this shit!” But McCourt persisted – and instead of just reading the plays – he would make copies of the scenes and have the students act them out. Which, of course, changed the entire thing. The students got SO into it. Some of them even memorized their lines. They knew what they were doing. They got into it. They could relate. They understood Romeo and Juliet<\/i> most of all (of course. Most teenagers do.) “Yeah, man, poor Romeo … he just wants to be wid his girl, y’know?” The kid assigned to play Mercutio apparently suddenly burst into brilliance – McCourt remembered his performance vividly and how much this tough kid from Staten Island clicked into that part (which is one of my favorite parts Shakespeare ever wrote, actually. I had a little crush on him as a teenager myself. Forget Romeo. Give me Mercutio!!)<\/p>\n

So anyway. Cut to 10, 15 years later. The school is having a reunion. McCourt, who no longer teaches there, is invited. He goes. He enters the room where the reunion is taking place, and suddenly – all of his former students – who had been teenagers, and are now full grown adults – all come racing over to him, STILL spouting Shakespeare – running at him, saying the lines that they had memorized 10 years before, the words still imprinted in their minds.<\/p>\n

And I remember what Frank said. He said, “Jesus! I thought to myself – this is the most important moment of my life!”<\/p>\n

This story always makes me think of my sister Jean, who is a teacher. That’s what teachers can do. Amazing. Life-changing.<\/p>\n

Happy birthday, Frank!<\/p>\n

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