“Get Out.” Advice on Teaching High School From the Late, Great Frank McCourt
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On my second day as a rookie English teacher at my alma mater, Stuyvesant High School, I walked down the fourth floor hallway on my way to class.
Behind a thick column, lurking in the shadows, a kind looking man with an Irish brogue quietly summoned me. “Psst…hey, come over here.”
When I strolled over, he blurted out: “Get out while you can!”
He saw my quizzical expression, not quite comprehending his warning.
“It’s five shows a day, in front of the toughest audience you’ll ever face,” he
Behind a thick column, lurking in the shadows, a kind looking man with an Irish brogue quietly summoned me. “Psst…hey, come over here.”
When I strolled over, he blurted out: “Get out while you can!”
He saw my quizzical expression, not quite comprehending his warning.
“It’s five shows a day, in front of the toughest audience you’ll ever face,” he
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