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  <id>3029743</id>
  <title><![CDATA[&quot;Teacher Man&quot;: Level 4, RLA (Penguin Longman Penguin Readers)]]></title>
  <isbn><![CDATA[1405882336]]></isbn>
  <isbn13><![CDATA[9781405882330]]></isbn13>
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  <description><![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]></description>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
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    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
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  <published>2005</published>
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    <rating>3</rating>
  <votes>5</votes>
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  <read_at>Wed Jun 11 00:00:00 -0700 2008</read_at>
  <date_added>Thu Jan 10 15:03:09 -0800 2008</date_added>
  <date_updated>Wed Jun 11 18:24:05 -0700 2008</date_updated>
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    <body><![CDATA[This book is difficult to review.  While I appreciated McCourt's attempt to recognize teachers (especially English teachers) and the work (often underappreciated) that we do, I felt that his theory of if we all &quot;think outside the box&quot; and try to be friendly with our students, than we will ...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/12185675">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/12185675]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/12185675]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>772935</id>
    <user>
    <id>62149</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Kate]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Philadelphia, PA]]></location>
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    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
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  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>4</rating>
  <votes>4</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
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  <recommended_for><![CDATA[teachers, avid readers]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Thu Mar 01 00:00:00 -0800 2007</read_at>
  <date_added>Wed Apr 18 06:22:34 -0700 2007</date_added>
  <date_updated>Wed Dec 16 18:08:03 -0800 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[At first, I was a little disappointed, because the book went by so fast.  He summed up 30 years of teaching in a little over 200 pages.<br/><br/>Then, when I thought about it, I realized how much it made sense.  I've only been teaching for five years, and at times, it feels like forever, but at th...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/772935">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/772935]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/772935]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>10997226</id>
    <user>
    <id>655483</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Dusty]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Austin, TX]]></location>
    <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/655483-dusty]]></link>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>3</rating>
  <votes>3</votes>
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      </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[Inexperienced teachers!]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Tue Jan 01 00:00:00 -0800 2008</read_at>
  <date_added>Tue Dec 25 12:55:58 -0800 2007</date_added>
  <date_updated>Fri Jan 04 09:23:11 -0800 2008</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[Frank McCourt: The Irish-American Larry McMurtry? <br/><br/>I ended up with mixed feelings about this book. I loved -- no, adored -- the first section of this wry, honest memoir. The second section was solid, also, but felt a little out of place. (My reaction: What? McCourt's in Dublin drinking, c...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/10997226">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/10997226]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/10997226]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>1603336</id>
    <user>
    <id>108034</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Tom]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Arlington, MA]]></location>
    <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/108034-tom]]></link>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
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    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>4</rating>
  <votes>3</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
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          </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
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  <read_at>Wed Aug 01 00:00:00 -0700 2007</read_at>
  <date_added>Sat Jun 02 04:31:37 -0700 2007</date_added>
  <date_updated>Wed Dec 16 20:33:19 -0800 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[ McCourt has a compelling style of writing, an extraordinarily masculine style (I don't know what this means exactly, but if I were ever to try to pin down what I thought made for &quot;masculine&quot; writing, I'd definitely look at McCourt's book, if only to avoid the traditional recourse to Hemin...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1603336">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1603336]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1603336]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>96898</id>
    <user>
    <id>1599</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Elke]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Washington, DC]]></location>
    <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/1599-elke]]></link>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
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  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>1</rating>
  <votes>3</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
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          </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[no one]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Mon Jan 01 00:00:00 -0800 2007</read_at>
  <date_added>Sun Feb 25 12:04:48 -0800 2007</date_added>
  <date_updated>Sun Feb 25 12:06:50 -0800 2007</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[i hated this book. i didn't like the style of his writing.  i didn't like the way he talked about his teaching and what he did in his classroom.  as i kept on reading, i was just like- dude- you are not a good teacher.  but maybe it's just the way he presented himself.<br/><br/>when i got to the e...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/96898">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/96898]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/96898]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>1445919</id>
    <user>
    <id>13666</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Alien ]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[03827, Canada]]></location>
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  <id type="integer">236259</id>
  <isbn>0007173989</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780007173983</isbn13>
  <text_reviews_count type="integer">5</text_reviews_count>
  <title>
    <![CDATA[TEACHER MAN: A MEMOIR]]>
  </title>
  <image_url>http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1172983487m/236259.jpg</image_url>
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  <link>http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/236259.TEACHER_MAN_A_MEMOIR</link>
  <average_rating>3.65</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>23</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>2</rating>
  <votes>1</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
  <shelves>
        <shelf name="read" />
          </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Fri Dec 01 00:00:00 -0800 2006</read_at>
  <date_added>Fri May 25 14:15:05 -0700 2007</date_added>
  <date_updated>Fri May 25 14:15:55 -0700 2007</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[Also heard this one read by the author on cd.  Not nearly as good as 'Tis.  I liked hearing about his life and the impersonations of students was somewhat amusing, if not repetitive and grating on the nerves, but I actually felt like this story was a little cheesy.  It seemed like he fell back on a ...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1445919">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1445919]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1445919]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>16209173</id>
    <user>
    <id>931750</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Laney]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Grand Junction, CO]]></location>
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  <isbn>0743243781</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780743243780</isbn13>
  <text_reviews_count type="integer">733</text_reviews_count>
  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
  <image_url>http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1165515799m/4909.jpg</image_url>
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  <link>http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/4909.Teacher_Man_A_Memoir</link>
  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>5855</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>2</rating>
  <votes>1</votes>
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  <recommended_for><![CDATA[no one]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[self]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Sat Sep 01 00:00:00 -0700 2007</read_at>
  <date_added>Sat Feb 23 18:30:58 -0800 2008</date_added>
  <date_updated>Sat Feb 23 18:37:48 -0800 2008</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[I do not like this book. I thought, &quot;He's a teacher, I'm a teacher. I should read it,&quot; and &quot;He wrote 'Angela's Ashes' which people seem to like, so I'll read it.&quot; I wish I'd left it alone. I actually bought the book for someone else, but then I decided to read it myself and give ...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/16209173">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/16209173]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/16209173]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>7920237</id>
    <user>
    <id>405638</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Bobbi]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Plano, TX]]></location>
    <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/405638-bobbi]]></link>
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  <isbn>0743243781</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780743243780</isbn13>
  <text_reviews_count type="integer">733</text_reviews_count>
  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>5855</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>4</rating>
  <votes>2</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
  <shelves>
        <shelf name="read" />
          </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Sun Oct 01 00:00:00 -0700 2006</read_at>
  <date_added>Thu Oct 18 21:28:11 -0700 2007</date_added>
  <date_updated>Thu Oct 18 21:31:48 -0700 2007</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[Frank McCourt returns to form in this book, after a disappointing turn in 'Tis.  <br/><br/>Give copies of this book as gifts to the teachers in your life.  Teacher Man is a great reminiscence on a career that was so much more than a career.  In McCourt's case, it was a calling, a way to indulge hi...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/7920237">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/7920237]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/7920237]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>48508889</id>
    <user>
    <id>1928892</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Mr. Zeiler]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[The United States]]></location>
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  <isbn>0743243781</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780743243780</isbn13>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <link>http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/4909.Teacher_Man_A_Memoir</link>
  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>5855</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>3</rating>
  <votes>1</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
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        <shelf name="read" />
          </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Sat Jul 01 00:00:00 -0700 2006</read_at>
  <date_added>Sat Mar 07 09:31:37 -0800 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Sat Mar 07 09:31:37 -0800 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[&quot;This is the situation in the public schools of America: the farther you travel from the classroom the greater your financial and professional rewards.&quot; While I can certainly related to and even laughed at many of McCourt's classroom challenges and adventures, I tried not to buy into the f...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/48508889">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/48508889]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/48508889]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>48397187</id>
    <user>
    <id>1773831</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Discoverylover]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Wellington, New Zealand]]></location>
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  <isbn>0007173989</isbn>
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  <text_reviews_count type="integer">5</text_reviews_count>
  <title>
    <![CDATA[TEACHER MAN: A MEMOIR]]>
  </title>
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  <link>http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/236259.TEACHER_MAN_A_MEMOIR</link>
  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>5855</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>0</rating>
  <votes>0</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
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      </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Sun Mar 01 00:00:00 -0800 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Fri Mar 06 00:32:31 -0800 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Fri Mar 06 01:06:42 -0800 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count>2</read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[Frank McCourt has been a favourite of mine since high school where I read 'Tis and then Angela's Ashes, so when I saw a copy of the final book in his memoirs, I snapped it up, and read it. I enjoyed it so much that I passed it on the a friend from TColl, who enjoyed it just as much as I did, and so ...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/48397187">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/48397187]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/48397187]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>72263746</id>
    <user>
    <id>2505581</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Gary]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Le Claire, IA]]></location>
    <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/2505581-gary-brecht]]></link>
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  <isbn>0743243781</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780743243780</isbn13>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
  <image_url>http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1165515799m/4909.jpg</image_url>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>5855</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>5</rating>
  <votes>0</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
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        <shelf name="read" />
          </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at></read_at>
  <date_added>Wed Sep 23 14:05:14 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Wed Sep 23 14:06:59 -0700 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[They say “those who can’t, teach.” Francis McCourt proves to be the exception to that cliché. A Pulitzer Prize winner for his first book, Angela’s Ashes, McCourt spins the tale of an Irish immigrant whose road to assimilation takes a different path than the usual work on the docks or in the...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/72263746">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/72263746]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/72263746]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>64629101</id>
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    <name><![CDATA[Drick]]></name>
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  <isbn>0743243781</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780743243780</isbn13>
  <text_reviews_count type="integer">733</text_reviews_count>
  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>5855</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>3</rating>
  <votes>0</votes>
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      </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Wed Jul 22 00:00:00 -0700 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Thu Jul 23 06:15:24 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Thu Jul 23 06:19:28 -0700 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count>1</read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[Ironically and tragically, I began reading this book on the day, Frank McCourt died - July 19, 2009 - of cancer. This is the third of McCourt's books and like Angela's Ashes and Tis, this is largely autobiographical. While near the end of Teacher Man he does relate some of his more rewarding teachin...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/64629101">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/64629101]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/64629101]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>59626110</id>
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    <id>19130</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Rima]]></name>
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  <isbn13>9780743243780</isbn13>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
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  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>2</rating>
  <votes>0</votes>
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  <read_at>Mon Jun 01 00:00:00 -0700 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Sun Jun 14 11:26:00 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Sun Jun 14 11:32:14 -0700 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[While I really liked &quot;Angela's Ashes,&quot; I wasn't so enthralled with &quot;Teacher Man.&quot;  Frank McCourt has an easy to follow writing style, and his narration on the audio version is good (many authors make terrible narrators of their own books but that's not the case here).  I liked th...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/59626110">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/59626110]]></url>
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</review>
      <review>
  <id>50142839</id>
    <user>
    <id>2153090</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Roberta]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Monterey Park, CA]]></location>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
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  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>5</rating>
  <votes>1</votes>
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  <read_at>Sat Jan 01 00:00:00 -0800 2005</read_at>
  <date_added>Sun Mar 22 23:13:40 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Tue Mar 24 15:03:01 -0700 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[i'm fascinated, as usual by the negative reviews of this book.  ive never read anything that spoke to me about teaching the way this book did, and about the rest of the stuff we're all to deal with in general.  perhaps the people who dont get it arent rebels at heart...perhaps they are individuals w...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/50142839">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/50142839]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/50142839]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>78116323</id>
    <user>
    <id>2589619</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Chip]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Birmingham, AL]]></location>
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  <id type="integer">113143</id>
  <isbn>0743243773</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780743243773</isbn13>
  <text_reviews_count type="integer">55</text_reviews_count>
  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.56</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>356</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[Nearly a decade ago Frank McCourt became an unlikely star when, at the age of sixty-six, he burst onto the literary scene with <em>Angela's Ashes,</em> the Pulitzer Prize -- winning memoir of his childhood in Limerick, Ireland. Then came <em>'Tis,</em> his glorious account of his early years in New York.<p>Now, here at last, is McCourt's long-awaited book about how his thirty-year teaching career shaped his second act as a writer. <em>Teacher Man</em> is also an urgent tribute to teachers everywhere. In bold and spirited prose featuring his irreverent wit and heartbreaking honesty, McCourt records the trials, triumphs and surprises he faces in public high schools around New York City. His methods anything but conventional, McCourt creates a lasting impact on his students through imaginative assignments (he instructs one class to write &quot;An Excuse Note from Adam or Eve to God&quot;), singalongs (featuring recipe ingredients as lyrics), and field trips (imagine taking twenty-nine rowdy girls to a movie in Times Square!).<p>McCourt struggles to find his way in the classroom and spends his evenings drinking with writers and dreaming of one day putting his own story to paper. <em>Teacher Man</em> shows McCourt developing his unparalleled ability to tell a great story as, five days a week, five periods per day, he works to gain the attention and respect of unruly, hormonally charged or indifferent adolescents. McCourt's rocky marriage, his failed attempt to get a Ph.D. at Trinity College, Dublin, and his repeated firings due to his propensity to talk back to his superiors ironically lead him to New York's most prestigious school, Stuyvesant High School, where he finally finds a place and a voice. &quot;Doggedness,&quot; he says, is &quot;not as glamorous as ambition or talent or intellect or charm, but still the one thing that got me through the days and nights.&quot;<p>For McCourt, storytelling itself is the source of salvation, and in <em>Teacher Man</em> the journey to redemption -- and literary fame -- is an exhilarating adventure.</p></p></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>5</rating>
  <votes>0</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
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          </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Tue Nov 17 00:00:00 -0800 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Tue Nov 17 13:56:10 -0800 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Tue Nov 17 14:05:21 -0800 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[Wow.  Just finished &quot;Teacher Man&quot; and, when balanced against the author's recent passing, it is an extraordinary farewell from an extraordinary man... though he would be the first to tell you that his extraordinariness, if it exists, lies in his ordinariness.  He lived.  He told his story ...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/78116323">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/78116323]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/78116323]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>58125452</id>
    <user>
    <id>2322542</id>
    <name><![CDATA[John]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[The United States]]></location>
    <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/2322542-john-barrett]]></link>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>5855</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>5</rating>
  <votes>0</votes>
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          </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
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  <read_at>Wed Jun 03 00:00:00 -0700 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Mon Jun 01 19:09:43 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Wed Jun 03 14:33:30 -0700 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[This author wrote ANGELA'S ASHES which I have not read, but the title of course intrigued me.  <br/><br/>There is a lot of adult information and language, not for the junior high yet.<br/><br/>I could identify with this author on many different levels.  I haven't cheated on my wife (or gotten a ...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/58125452">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/58125452]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/58125452]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>51554735</id>
    <user>
    <id>614704</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Simon]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[The United States]]></location>
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  <id type="integer">360194</id>
  <isbn>0743289668</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780743289665</isbn13>
  <text_reviews_count type="integer">10</text_reviews_count>
  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.81</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>67</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>2</rating>
  <votes>1</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
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        <shelf name="read" />
          </shelves>
  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Mon Apr 13 00:00:00 -0700 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Sun Apr 05 00:34:38 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Tue Apr 14 18:38:54 -0700 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[It was a little preachy and I find him obsessed with sex and always having a beer.]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/51554735]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/51554735]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>56506359</id>
    <user>
    <id>1361138</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Helynne]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Gunnison, CO]]></location>
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  <isbn>0743243781</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780743243780</isbn13>
  <text_reviews_count type="integer">733</text_reviews_count>
  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>5855</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>4</rating>
  <votes>0</votes>
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  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
  <recommended_by><![CDATA[]]></recommended_by>
  <read_at>Wed Jun 01 00:00:00 -0700 2005</read_at>
  <date_added>Mon May 18 12:29:26 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Thu May 21 10:25:04 -0700 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[  Once again, McCourt's wonderful writing style kicks back in as he writes of his teaching career in New York City's public schools.   As a native-born American, raised in Ireland, then transplanted back to the city of his birth, he is constantly asked, &quot;Do I detect an Irish brough?&quot;  The ...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/56506359">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/56506359]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/56506359]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>49672453</id>
    <user>
    <id>647474</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Jackie]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[The United States]]></location>
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  <isbn13>9780743243780</isbn13>
  <text_reviews_count type="integer">733</text_reviews_count>
  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
  <image_url>http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1165515799m/4909.jpg</image_url>
  <small_image_url>http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1165515799s/4909.jpg</small_image_url>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
  <ratings_count>5855</ratings_count>
  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>0</rating>
  <votes>0</votes>
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  <read_at>Sun Mar 01 00:00:00 -0800 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Wed Mar 18 10:36:58 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Wed Mar 18 10:45:42 -0700 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[I found value reading this book from his experiences as a high school teacher.  He was born in America, however he lived most of his growing up years in Ireland during the 1930's-1940's.  Due to his upbringing, it seemed he struggled with figuring out what kind of teaching style he wanted to have, t...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/49672453">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/49672453]]></url>
  <link><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/49672453]]></link>
</review>
      <review>
  <id>74207293</id>
    <user>
    <id>1455091</id>
    <name><![CDATA[Ryan]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[West Lafayette, IN]]></location>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[Teacher Man: A Memoir]]>
  </title>
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  <average_rating>3.58</average_rating>
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  <description>
    <![CDATA[For 30 years Frank McCourt taught high school English in New York City and for much of that time he considered himself a fraud. During these years he danced a delicate jig between engaging the students, satisfying often bewildered administrators and parents, and actually enjoying his job. He tried to present a consistent image of composure and self-confidence, yet he regularly felt insecure, inadequate, and unfocused. After much trial and error, he eventually discovered what was in front of him (or rather, behind him) all along--his own experience. &quot;My life saved my life,&quot; he writes. &quot;My students didn't know there was a man up there escaping a cocoon of Irish history and Catholicism, leaving bits of that cocoon everywhere.&quot; At the beginning of his career it had never occurred to him that his own dismal upbringing in the slums of Limerick could be turned into a valuable lesson plan. Indeed, his formal training emphasized the opposite. Principals and department heads lectured him to never share anything personal. He was instructed to arouse fear and awe, to be stern, to be impossible to please--but he couldn't do it. McCourt was too likable, too interested in the students' lives, and too willing to reveal himself for their benefit as well as his own. He was a kindred spirit with more questions than answers: &quot;Look at me: wandering late bloomer, floundering old fart, discovering in my forties what my students knew in their teens.&quot;<p>  As he did so adroitly in his previous memoirs, <em>Angela's Ashes</em> and <em>'Tis</em>, McCourt manages to uncover humor in nearly everything. He writes about hilarious misfires, as when he suggested (during his teacher's exam) that the students write a suicide note, as well as unorthodox assignments that turned into epiphanies for both teacher and students. A dazzling writer with a unique and compelling voice, McCourt describes the dignity and difficulties of a largely thankless profession with incisive, self-deprecating wit and uncommon perception. It may have taken him three decades to figure out how to be an effective teacher, but he ultimately saved his most valuable lesson for himself: how to be his own man. <em>--Shawn Carkonen</em></p>]]>
  </description>
  <published>2005</published>
</book>

    <rating>2</rating>
  <votes>1</votes>
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  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
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  <read_at>Fri Oct 16 00:00:00 -0700 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Sun Oct 11 17:14:17 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Fri Oct 16 19:47:07 -0700 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[Pretty lame. I'm actually quite disappointed. My dad bought this for me for my birthday the first year I began my teaching career, and after reading 20 pages I had to put it down -- the first chapter read like every single day of my new existence. I set it aside, vowing to come back to it, and now t...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/74207293">more...</a>]]></body>
    
  <url><![CDATA[http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/74207293]]></url>
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