One of my very best friends is a born teacher. Like, she knew she wanted to be a teacher pretty much from the moment she came out of the womb. So that’s why she was already in her 2nd year of teaching while I was asking strangers “frozen or on the rocks?” Not that I’m complaining…it was quite nice to sleep until 10 on weekdays and not have to take my job home with me…but I digress.
This friend and I also had something else in common: we very much enjoyed frequenting bars, clubs, and restaurants that served alcohol. Sometimes during happy hour. And since happy hour is the same time that many families sit down to eat dinner and ask their children about their day, there were times that she would receive a phone call from a parent of one of her students while we were out and about. And being in the same vicinity as her, I was privy to listening in on her end of the conversation. Which sounded a lot like this:
Friend and I: (indistinct chatter about inappropriate bawdy details of people sitting around us)
Phone rings
Friend: (regular voice) “Motherf*$%er, it’s a parent. Sonofabitch, don't they know I might be busy right now??” (Groan)
Friend: (with a voice sweeter than the southern sweet tea from Bojangles). “Hello? Oh no, this is not a bad time at all.” Eye roll, inappropriate hand gesture. “How can I be of assistance to you?”
Me: (laughter as I order another drink)
I was always so amazed at how easily she was able to switch from “Fun, bawdy, inappropriate” friend, able to come up with a sarcastic comment at the drop of a hat, to the sweet, kind, professional teacher in a matter of seconds.
Not that I’m completely new to this version of voice-changing magic. I would often consider myself a chameleon when it came to waiting on a wide variety of customers. Group of guys in business suits? Why, share a few golf jokes and perhaps some small talk about football. Group of frat guys? Football and fantasy football talk would abound. Family with well-behaved kids? Much quieter approach, and of course taking the time to ask the kids what grade they might be in and what kinds of books they might like to read. Table of woman? Much quieter approach, perhaps jumping at the opportunity to share my insight on reality TV or good bars to hit later on. Now, this is nothing to say of the transformation I make from BOH (back-of-house—not in front of customers) to FOH (front-of-house—in front of customers).
BOH me (perhaps talking to the chef, which, side note…chefs are some of THE most hilariously inappropriate people I have ever had the pleasure of exchanging words with): “This f!@%er at table 8 wants his steak medium plus. And I was like, ‘what the f!@%,’ right?? Just grow some balls and order it medium-well like a normal person.”
FOH me (talking to a table): “And for you sir, 8 oz. filet, medium plus. The chef took special care to make sure your filet was just right (he didn’t), so please be sure to let me know how it is (please don't).”
I can’t help but be reminded of the scene in Waiting, where Naomi shares her thoughts on making an ice cream sundae for a table (if you’re unfamiliar with that scene, click here: Naomi speaks her mind , but perhaps turn the volume down if you are around kids, as there are a few f-bombs in there)
Now in my 7th-ish year of teaching, I’m realizing this practice has been quite helpful. Much like changing my approach to frat guys vs. families, I change my approach from 1st graders to 3rd graders, or other teachers on my team to my students. I don't even have to think about it, it’s an automatic reaction. Regular voice to teacher voice, teacher voice to regular voice…it’s just part of my collection of weaponry when it comes to speaking with students, parents, and other adults.
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