Varför jag älskade The Wonder Spot av Melissa Bank, del 4

Then our teacher stood up. She was wiry with muscles and had long, thick, auburn hair. Her name was Maureen and she was the kind of fifty that made getting older seem like a reward instead of a punishment for living. She spoke with a Midwestern accent and said "you guys", like a camp counselor; meanwhile, you could tell how smart she was.
Her teaching style, she confessed, was loosey-goosey and had become even more so since she'd adopted a three-year-old insomniac from Vietnam. If we wanted serious instruction, she said, she'd give us the name of another instructor. She seemed to know exactly who she was, and this made me want to copy her.