That would be a pleasant life, easier than facing dozens of high school kids every day with their secret little nudges, winks and laughs, their complaints and objections, or the way they have of ignoring me as if I were a piece of furniture. A memory floats into my head from a morning at NYU, a face saying, Aren’t we being a little paranoid?
Paranoid. I looked it up. If I’m standing before a class and one kid whispers something to another and they laugh will I think they’re laughing at me? Will they sit in the cafeteria imitating my accent and joking about my red eyes? I know they will because we did the same thing in Leamy’s National School and if I’m going to worry about it I might as well spend my life in the loan department of the Manufacturer’s Trust Company.
Is this what I’ll do the rest of my life, take the subway then the ferry to Staten Island, climb the hill to McKee Vocational and Technical High School, punch in at the time clock, extract a bulge of paper from my mailbox, tell my students class after class day after day, Sit down, please, open your notebooks, take out your pens, you don’t have paper? here’s paper, you don’t have a pen? borrow one, copy the notes on the board, you can’t see from there? Joey would you change seats with Brian? come on, Joey, don’t be such a, no, Joey, I didn’t call you a jerk, I just asked you to change seats with Brian who needs glasses, you don’t need glasses, Brian? well, why do you have to move, never mind, Joey, just move, will you? Freddie, put that sandwich away, this isn’t the lunchroom, I don’t care if you’re hungry, no, you can’t go to the bathroom to eat your sandwich, you’re not supposed to be eating sandwiches in the toilet, what is it, Maria? you’re sick, you have to see the nurse? Okay, here’s a pass, Diane, would you take Maria to the nurse’s office and let me know what the nurse says, no, I know they won’t tell you what’s wrong with her, I just want to know if she’ll be coming back to class, what is it, Albert, you’re sick, too? no, you’re not, Albert, you just sit there and do your work, you gotta see the nurse, Albert? you’re really sick? you have diarrhea? well, here, here’s the pass to the boys’ room and don’t stay there all period, the rest of you finish copying the notes on the board, there will be a test, you know that, don’t you? there will be a test, what’s that, Sebastian, your pen ran out of ink? well, why didn’t you say something? yes, you’re saying it now but you could have said it ten minutes ago, oh, you didn’t want to interrupt all these sick people? that’s nice of you, Sebastian, does anyone have a pen to loan Sebastian? oh, come on, what’s that, Joey? Sebastian is a what? a what? you shouldn’t say things like that, Joey, Sebastian sit down, no fighting in the classroom, what’s that, Ann? you gotta go? go where, Ann? oh, you got your period? you’re right, Joey, she doesn’t have to tell the whole world, yes, Daniela? you want to take Ann to the bathroom? why? oh, she don’t ah doesn’t speak good English, so what does that have to do with her having her? what’s that, Joey? you don’t think girls should talk like that, easy, Daniela, easy, you don’t have to be insulting, what’s that, Joey? you’re religious and people shouldn’t talk like that, okay, easy, Daniela, I know you’re defending Ann who needs to go to the toilet, the bathroom, so go, take her there, and the rest of you copy the notes on the board, oh, you can’t see, either? you want to move up? okay, move up, here’s an empty seat but where’s your notebook? you left it on the bus, all right, you need paper, here’s paper, you need a pen? here’s a pen, you need to go to the bathroom? well, go go go to the bathroom, eat a sandwich, hang out with your friends, Jesus.
Mr. McCoy.
McCourt.
You shun’t swear like dat. You shun’t say God’s name like dat.
They say, Oh, Mr. McCourt, you should take off tomorrow, Paddy’s Day. Gee, you’re Irish. You should go to the parade.
If I took off and stayed in bed all day they’d be just as pleased. Substitutes for absent teachers rarely bother with attendance and students simply cut class. Aw, come on, Mr. McCourt, you need a holiday with your Irish friends. I mean you wouldn’t come to school if you was in Ireland, would you?
They groan when I appear on the day. Aw, shit, man, excuse the language, what kinda Irishman are you? Hey, teacher, maybe you’ll go out tonight with all the Irish an’ maybe you won’t be in tomorrow?
I’ll be here tomorrow.
They bring me green things, a sprayed potato, a green bagel, a bottle of Heineken because it’s green, a head of cabbage with holes for eyes, nose, mouth, wearing a little green leprechaun cap made in the art room. The cabbage is Kevin and has a girlfriend, an eggplant named Maureen. There is a greeting card two feet by two wishing me Happy St. Paddy’s Day with a collage of green paper things, shamrocks, shillelaghs, whiskey bottles, a drawing of a green corned beef, St. Patrick holding a glass of green beer instead of a crozier and saying, Faith an’ Begorrah, it’s a great day for the Irish, a drawing of me with a balloon saying, Kiss Me I’m Irish. The card is signed by dozens of students from my five classes and decorated with happy faces shaped like shamrocks.
The classes are noisy. Hey, Mr. McCourt, how come you ain’t wearin’ green? Because he don’t have to, stoopid, he’s Irish. Mr. McCourt, whyn’t you goin’ to the parade? Because he just started this job. Chrissakes, he’s here only a week.
Mr. Sorola opens the door. Is everything all right, Mr. McCourt?
Oh, yes.
He comes to my desk, looks at the card, smiles. They must like you, eh? And you’ve been here how long? A week?
Almost.
Well, this is very nice but see if you can get them back to work. He goes toward the door and he’s followed by, Happy Paddy’s Day, Mr. Sorola, but he leaves without turning around. When someone at the back of the room says, Mr. Sorola is a miserable guinea, there is a scuffle that ends only when I threaten them with a test on Your World and You. Then someone says, Sorola ain’t no Italian. He’s Finnish.
Finnish? What’s Finnish?
Finland, stoopid, where it’s dark all the time.
He don’t look Finnish.
So, shithead, what does Finnish look like?
I dunno but he don’t look it. He could be Sicilian.
He’s not Sicilian. He’s Finnish and I’m layin’ a dollar bet. Anyone wanna bet?
No one wants to challenge the bet and I tell them, All right, open your notebooks.
They’re indignant. Open our notebooks? Paddy’s Day an’ you’re telling us open our notebooks after we got you the card an’ everything.
I know. Thank you for the card but this is a regular schoolday, there will be tests and we have to cover Your World and You.
There is a groaning around the room and the green is gone out of the day. Oh, Mr. McCourt, if you only knew how we hate that book.
Oh, Mr. McCourt, can’t you tell us about Ireland or something?
Mr. McCourt, tell us about your girlfriend. You must have a nice girlfriend. You’re real cute. My mother is divorced. She’d like to meet you.
Mr. McCourt, I got a sister your age. She got a big job in a bank. She likes all that old music, Bing Crosby an’ all.
Mr. McCourt, I seen this Irish movie, The Quiet Man, on TV an’ John Wayne was beatin’ up his wife, what’s her name, and is that what they do in Ireland, beat up their wives?
They would do anything to avoid Your World and You. Mr. McCourt, did you keep pigs in your kitchen?
We didn’t have a kitchen.
Yeah, but if you didn’t have a kitchen how could you cook?