It hung near the corner of the wall, almost inconspicuously. But by the end of the first day, I noticed it. Eighteen inches long and 3/4 of an inch thick, it hung by a thin leather strap. I knew the purpose of this plank of wood. So did everyone else in Miss Bate's 7th grade class.
Not a single 7th grade boy matched the stature of Miss Bate. The only thing close was her girth. She wasn't a pleasant teacher, but the daily, mean-spirited jokes were not nice. I often felt sorry for her. More than once, she caught crude drawings of herself, as they were passed between desks amid snickers. She'd crumple them, walk to her desk, and throw the wad into the wastebasket.
One time this happened, I sat at my desk horrified. I could not believe students could be so cruel. I'd caught a glimpse of the picture. Someone had drawn herwith a pig nose and a line pointing it out, along with warts and other ugly things. My sorrow for her quickly turned to fear when Miss Bate walked to the corner of the room and pulled the plank of wood from its place.
"Jimm," she said in an almost monotone. Walking towards the door of our class she spoke again, "Come with me." Jimmy stood up. He didn't look the least bit afraid. I was petrified for him. My older brother had told me stories of how Miss Bate wound up like a batter, before swinging. The standard practice of getting a swat was outside the door of the classroom. I'm not sure why. In elementary school, kids were swatted at the front of the classroom. Everyone watched. I think it was meant to deter other students from committing the same offenses.
Miss Bate didn't go outside for the sake of privacy. Outside meant that the boys & girls P.E. classes would stop what they were doing, to point & laugh at the student getting swats. That is except for that day. I didn't witness this myself, but my brother happened to be outside playing ball when the incident occurred. He later explained what took place outside of Miss Bates classroom.
Inside the rest of the class sat silent. Waiting. We silently counted the sound of each smack. Sometimes it was once or twice. But if a teacher was very angry 3 or 4 whacks were heard. It seemed a long time before we heard anything. Was that a yelp? We waited. Nothing. Students began looking from one to the other wondering what was going on outside. Ten minutes later, Miss Bate appeared in the doorway, redfaced. She hung her paddle back on the nail & smoothed her hair. She picked up her book and began teaching again.
The story my brother told at dinner that night, I don't think my parents believed. After taking Jimmy outside that day, Miss Bate had him assume the position. All of the bad kids new it. Bend over, grab your ankles. My brother stood up to show what happened next. "She grabbed that paddle with both hands and pulled it back far. Honestly, she looked like she was a batter winding up to bat." He stood holding an imaginary bat or paddle, twisted back as far as he could. He continued, "you know she has holes drilled in that thing so she can swing it faster." I could tell my dad wasn't impressed. He might have even rolled his eyes.
"I could tell she was so mad." Greg continued his very animated story. "And then she swung for all she was worth." Then Greg busted out laughing, practically falling to the floor. My dad was not amused. Greg tried to continue. "You should have seen her. Dad, you would have laughed too. As she was swinging," he positioned himself as a batter again, "as hard as she could, Jimmy jumped out of her way." My brother then spun himself around in a circle imitating what might have happened as Miss Bate missed her target. And then he was on the floor laughing. I think I caught the start of a grin at the corners of dad's mouth. "And then she dragged him to the Principal's office. I heard that Mr. Arredondo gave him 20 swats."
I'm not sure what made me remember this story from 7th grade. But can you imagine anything like this happening in today's classrooms? No, not a student humiliating the teacher, but a teacher administering swats with a wooden board while the student was bent over holding his ankles. This took place just 33 years ago. My how things have changed.
7 comments:
Boy if I only had a paddle for a couple of my kiddos...my how things would be gleefully different....
haha just kidding!
I think the paddle had its good points. ;o)
I can remember the whole class getting swats because of a loud study hall when the teacher left for a moment. This teacher had the students swat one another... and if they didn't hit hard enough, he would swat the swatter and the swattee himself.
Guess who was the first to have to swat someone?
I really tried to whack Pam Ledford a good one... but Mr Cannon deemed it unsatisfactory. So HE swatted me, then Pam. The rest of the girls made a point to swing hard.
The only time I ever got swats at school.
There was one group of boys when I was in 7th grade that entered a competition with each other to see who could get the most swats (we called them "licks") during one semester. Somewhere along the way, the teachers heard of it, and word got around that the teachers were competing to see who would become known for swatting the hardest. It sure put a quick end to the boys' competition!
And no, I don't think I know of any school that still gives swats, and one can sure tell by the rowdy classes.
WOW! Times sure have changed!
My elementary school principal gave swats in the hallway right outside classroom doors. This was in the 1970s.
I was a good girl. No swats for me!
I know there are some schools that give swats, but it seems just unimaginable to me.
you told this story brilliantly! I was reading with bated breath!
If corporal punishment was still allowed and not viewed as "abuse" by so many, I highly doubt public/private schools would have the level of behavior problems that they currently experience.
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