Ira Shatzman

It is with the heaviest of hearts that we share that our deeply loved father, Ira Shatzman, passed away on November 9, 2025 in New York City. Born on November 13, 1935, Ira was the youngest child of Celia and Harry Shatzman of Brooklyn, NY. He grew up in an era of unlocked doors, pickles in barrels, and stickball games on the street. He spent memorable summers with his family on Brighton Beach, often swimming out so far that he was just a speck on the horizon, much to his mother’s panic.

From a young age, Ira loved going to the movies with his family and friends. When he became seriously ill as a teenager, he turned to books and read more in a few years than most people read in a lifetime. He continued to devour books and movies for the rest of his life. Despite often saying how little he knew, there were seemingly few topics he could not speak about as an expert. As children, his two daughters were convinced he was not only a teacher, but also a doctor, a linguist, a comedian, a conductor, and a cookie monster, among many other occupations.

Ira earned a bachelor’s degree in History and a master’s in English Literature from Brooklyn College. As only Ira could do next, he became a real-life cowboy, working for a number of years in the 1960s on a horse ranch in Taos, New Mexico. He had developed a fascination with the American Southwest from books and movies in his youth. While living there, he gained an appreciation of nature, animals, and the local population, who embraced him. His adventures with horses Yellowbuck and Chief; cats Momma, Loki, Shuma, and Baby; and his treasured dog, Solomina, sound like tall tales but we promise, they’re true.

Upon his return to New York City, Ira became an English teacher in the public school system. As a child, he hated school and the out of touch teachers. He would often climb out of an open window and run home during classes to escape the stifling environment. With those memories to propel him, Ira became a beloved, dedicated, hilarious, and honest teacher, whose window students would seek and climb through. He would reread a book every time he taught it. Instead of set lesson plans, he would adapt classes based on the students. He went outside of the assigned curriculum, introducing students to books never before taught in schools, such as science fiction, fantasy, and then-underground authors. Kurt Vonnegut once wrote Ira a letter thanking him after hearing from a student that Ira was teaching his books. We have yet to experience anyone else who teaches Shakespeare as masterfully — and simply — as Ira did, teaching the plays line by line to ensure his students understood every word. He made many classics accessible to high school students, including Herman Melville’s “Moby Dick” and Joseph Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness.”

Ira had an open heart and mind, and that was reflected in his teaching. He accepted everyone in his classroom no matter their background, ethnicity, orientation, or any other societal markers. He fought hard for student rights and for anyone to be allowed into his advanced classes or award-winning extracurriculars in yearbook and newspaper.

Ira taught for over 30 years. He won national awards and accolades, but to him that was never the goal. For the rest of his life, former students would contact him, thankful for his effect on their lives. It was rare when he did not remember a student. It was the greatest honor that students remembered him, sometimes more than half a century later.

Ira was constantly ahead of the curve as an advocate for indigenous, civil, and LGBTQ+ rights. He was even a member of the first Lord of the Rings fan club in the 1960s, long before it was cool. Well into his 80s, he never stopped engaging with the world. It was rare to present him with a social issue, cultural event, or current trend to which he wasn’t already familiar.

After retiring from teaching, Ira and his family moved to New Mexico, where he focused on raising his daughters. He even guest taught in their high school classes and provided after-school Shakespeare sessions at the request of his daughters’ friends.

Always an aficionado of classical music, Ira expanded his appreciation to opera. He frequently took his young daughters and their friends to the Santa Fe Opera’s family nights. On a particularly memorable outing, his daughters and cohorts were disappointed to learn that “The Marriage of Figaro,” which they had all just seen, does not actually include the song “Figaro Figaro Figaro! (Largo al factotum).” Ira told them it was in “The Barber of Seville” and then sang a perfect rendition, to much applause and shouts for an encore, adding “celebrated opera singer” to his list of occupations. But like everything else in life, his taste in music ran the gamut, spanning from his hero Woody Guthrie to Captain Beefheart, The Clash, and Blondie.

When his daughters returned to New York City as young adults, Ira soon followed. He enjoyed an ideal retirement, filled with books and music during the day and a film or two in the evening. He spent many happy days free to explore the city, frequenting museums and bookstores. His activities were regularly accompanied by a cookie, the type of which depended on the time and day. He was an innovator of the “breakfast cookie.” He was always happy to host guests, sharing sweets and good conversation. People loved visiting his apartment as much as Ira loved living in it. A veritable museum, it was filled with everything from art and action figures to weaponry ranging from samurai swords to light sabers.

Ira was kind, thoughtful, generous, and somehow also an extraordinary insult comic. He was a great judge of character. He was a dreamer. His imagination was boundless. He was continuously full of surprises. He is not someone whose life and spirit can be sufficiently described in a few paragraphs. He will be forever missed by those who knew and loved him.

There is an old proverb in Judaism that says a person dies twice: At their physical death, and when their name is spoken for the last time. Through the many lives he touched as a teacher, and certainly through his family and friends, we hope Ira will live forever.

Ira’s legacy continues with his daughters, Celia and Cara Shatzman; Celia’s husband, Dave Roth; Cara’s partner, Richard Theroux; nephew Lawrence Berman, and nieces Susan Jouard and Merrill Shatzman.
Ira follows his parents, Celia and Harry Shatzman, his brother Herb, sister Eileen, and brother-in-law Bernie. Ira will be laid to rest in Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn.


If you wish to support one of Ira's favorite charities (of which there are many), we suggest:
American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA)
Blood Cancer United
Southern Poverty Law Center
St. Jude’s Children Hospital
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum
West Virginia Mine Wars Museum