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When I came out onto the patio, Miss Izzy was playing with some young girls, much to the glee of the fair and industrious Trudy who had her on a short leash. Nearby, two boys were at a small table horsing around. They were standing in the chairs, and one was shouting to a homeless man standing in the median of the street just beyond the wall ran along the edge of the patio. (Where were this kid’s parents? For heaven’s sake, accosting a homeless person!?) 

I had just ordered our catfish tacos, and was coming out onto the patio to meet Trudy. (It was Friday afternoon, and we had converged at this spot as a kind of midpoint.) I still had my school ID hanging from a lanyard about my neck. I wore a collared shirt and dress pants and black shoes. As I approached, the boys ceased their horsing around and sat flat in their chairs.

“Are you with security?” one of them asked.

I chuckled to myself. Trudy laughed.

“Well, is there something you boys are up to that security should know about?” I asked in my best teacher voice.

“No,” the same boy said as the other sat still.

Do I really radiate an aura of a security guard!? Perhaps this explains why on the whole my students are well behaved — and here I thought it had something to do with classroom culture!