As a child of the 50s, growing up in small town America, I was no stranger to the widespread use of spanking, strapping and paddling as the main method employed by adults to discipline their children at both home and school. I was hand spanked until seven years of age, at which time my father bought a razor strop from a barber shop supply house, with which he would thoroughly tan my bare hide on a fairly regular basis right up to when I left for college. At school, there was always a trusty "board of education" to punish any student whose behavior was deemed unruly. At least in that case, I was afforded the protection of two layers of clothing, though the holes in the thick wood ensured that after three to five swats I would be sporting a "bulls-eye" bruise on each of my "sit spots" for the next couple of days. After a paddling, it was never fun to try to sit still in those hard wooden or moulded plastic seats that went together with the school desks. BTW, back then "fidgeting" was considered one of those unruly behaviors that could earn you a quick return trip to the office for another meeting with the "board." What I most vividly remember is the vicious cycle I would often find myself in. If I got paddled at school, I could expect a good bakers dozen at home with the strop that evening, Whenever my dad saw a fresh pair of "bull-eyes" he wouldn't even try to avoid them. Oh no, he would go right for them. The next day at school, the challenge was to try to find that one patch of bottom that I could sit perfectly still on and thus perhaps break the seemingly endless cycle of punishment. In addition to all this, I could also be spanked on the spot by any other parent in the neighborhood, if they thought I was misbehaving with their children, because my parents had granted "spanking rights" to all my friends' parents. It didn't happen that often but it did happen. Needless to say, growing up at that time, my young butt didn't remain unmarked for very long. I wonder how any of today's youth would have fared. |