Last night I went to a movie with my parents. As we were leaving the theater, I noticed a group of teenage boys loitering and "rough-housing" right outside the theater doors. As much I as tried to avoid getting in their mix, they pushed and shoved until one of the little rabble-rousers crashed into me and stepped on my foot.
(Any flashbacks to middle school hallways? Anyone?)
"Hey! Watch it! People are trying to walk here!" I barked, glaring at them with my best teacher look.
The boys stopped, looking like deer caught in headlights, and made some guffawing noises that may have been half-assed apologies.
My mom rushed over asking me if I was okay while I'm ranting about damn teenagers who need to pay attention and mind their manners and how I shouldn't have to put up with that kind of a crap for a few more weeks. And my dad is trying to explain to my mom that I had just been stepped on and I had a right to be upset. Both of my parents were concerned that with all the yelling that I'd been injured. Nope, not a bruise--amazingly.
I may have gone over the top with the little ranting bit, but I didn't think it was improper to bring out my angry teacher voice. It's something about being a teacher: I think I have the right to reprimand wayward children in public. Okay, maybe it's not like I really think it's my right, it's more a compulsion that is difficult to control.
In any case, my parents were a little surprised by my "bark." (I have a growl to go with that, too!) They'd never heard me use that tone of voice, and my mother claims she hadn't heard me yell since I was a kid. I can guarantee that the girlie yelp I used while fighting with my brother is nothing like the deep tone I use to reprimand wayward kids.
My dad can't believe that it was really ten years ago today that I packed up my little Escort and hit the road to start my first teaching job in rural Nevada. Yep, it's true Dad! I really have been a teacher that long--and I have the teacher voice to prove it!