"So how was everyone's weekend?" I ask my group of advisory students. They are aged 6th-8th grade. We are sitting in a circle on the rug eating our lunch together and talking about our weekends, as we do every Monday. Mr. B. raises his hand to share first. (Mr. B. has many unique and delightful quirks to his 8th grade personality, among them being asked to be called "Mr. B." instead of his name.)
"This weekend, I got a new video game -" Mr. B. croaks out in a very strange, grovelly voice.
"Mr. B," I interrupt, "are you ok?"
"Yes," he croaks, "Why - does it sound like my voice is cracking?"
"No. . . " I reply slowly, never sure where the conversation will go with Mr. B. "It sounds like you're a bit sick. Can you speak in your regular voice so we can understand you better?"
"Ok. So I got this new video game for DS. It's about -" He is still croaking and I can tell that he is forcing it. I don't understand why and everyone is looking at him quizzically. I interrupt again.
"Mr. B. Please use your regular voice."
"Ugh!" He shakes his thin fist in the air and I can see his scrunched up eyes behind his thick glasses. "I just want my voice to crack so it means I'm going through puberty!"
I stifle a laugh, as do many other students in the room. A boy next to me shakes his head in knowing sympathy and says under his breath, "You just gotta wait for it, man."
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