quote:

Originally posted by ChicagoSigMan:
Corporal punishment wasn't a thing when I was in school in Illinois. Wasn't aware it was a thing anywhere. Then I moved to Texas when I was 13. Forgot to put my gym shoes back in my locker after basketball practice. Coach paddled me. I told my mom, and she got in her car and headed to the school. I think the principal and the coach were lucky to live through that meeting.

We are clearly related through the parental line of descent.

I recall getting the palm of my hand smacked with a ruler in about the 2an grade.
6, 7, 8th grade I got my ass beat in school a lot. Nothing in high school.
All the whacks in Jr hi was probably a good thing that happened to me.

quote:

Originally posted by ChicagoSigMan:
Corporal punishment wasn't a thing when I was in school in Illinois. Wasn't aware it was a thing anywhere. Then I moved to Texas when I was 13. Forgot to put my gym shoes back in my locker after basketball practice. Coach paddled me. I told my mom, and she got in her car and headed to the school. I think the principal and the coach were lucky to live through that meeting.

My wife is from CA [from the very conservative part] & graduated in 2003. Asked her if this was a thing when she was in school & the look of shock she had said it all.

quote:

Originally posted by StorminNormin:
I grew up and live in Texas. Kids got sent to the principal’s office for a paddling from the time I was in elementary school all the way to high school. I graduated high school in 1991 and a paddle was still used in my senior year. I remember once in an Ag shop class a kid was spraying WD-40 and lighting it like a flamethrower. The teacher gave him the choice to get the paddle or sent to the principal and end up with Saturday detention. He chose the paddle. We were all told to wait in the classroom while they went into the Ag shop. You could hear the hits and the yelps of the kid from the classroom. He never did that again; nor did anyone else.

Yup, I’m native as well and same thing. Much like anything, in the right hands, great teaching tool. But in the wrong hands, straight up abuse. Me and my crew definitely got it, drilled holes in the paddle and all. You got a red and sore ass you just don’t fuck around anymore. The paddle was definitely FAFO turf, and it worked. Our society is fucked now because it’s nothing but 20 something’s that are snowflakes and have been helicoptered. Some times people just need their ass beat. They don’t learn any other way. I wouldn’t do it to a kid today by any means but I would PT their ass to hell and back depending on the severity. What do parents do now? Take away the phone and the console? Oh the horror! Wuss parents = wuss kids = wuss society. Just how it is out there today.

In TX, you learn. At least back in the day. I had a matriarch in the family. She didn’t fuck around. You fuck around and she is running the day/house, she would say “go get me a switch”. That meant a lean branch somewhere. Off a bush, tree, whatever. And if it was too thin she would just say “nuh-uh” and you’d have to go back outside and get a proper one. She’d break out a knife and start hand carving it and you’d sit there in terror. She’d take her damn time too, slow and precise. Thing would be perfect. She’d finally get up and take you out back. Whack whack whack. She wouldn’t overdo it, just enough lashes to teach your ass. Many of us got it once. The fucktwits really found out. She’d get a bigger branch. Eventually everyone learned. Don’t fuck around at her house. Now the brats just get their phone taken away.

quote:

Originally posted by Prefontaine:
I wouldn’t do it to a kid today by any means but I would PT their ass to hell and back depending on the severity.

I think I like this statement. As my old boss would say, “It’ll help them, and do them some good too!"

quote:

Originally posted by Prefontaine:
What do parents do now? Take away the phone and the console? Oh the horror! Wuss parents = wuss kids = wuss society.

Can’t disagree.

quote:

Originally posted by vthoky:

quote:

Originally posted by Prefontaine:
I wouldn’t do it to a kid today by any means but I would PT their ass to hell and back depending on the severity.

I think I like this statement. As my old boss would say, “It’ll help them, and do them some good too!"

We did this with our oldest. We lived in a cul de sac & would make her run laps.

Churning out feral humans is not a good use of tax money, although it is easier to do than producing responsible, productive graduates, familiar with the positive results of following the rules and the consequences of not doing so, and thus ready for the responsibilities of citizenship (such as informed voting), further education and/or to be good employees after graduating.

In my '70s high school, the Vice Principal had the job of enforcement, and he had a thick air-flow-perforated paddle on the wall of his office. I wasn't the sort to have that kind of interaction and as I recall those who did, tried their best not to earn a repeat performance.

Yes, in first and third grade in the mid sixties Florida.

The first time, we were lined up and some of the kids were being loud, so the teacher asked "does anyone want to go to the boiler room"?

I didn't know what that meant so I said I do. I had started school a month late so I missed the boiler room part of the waiver.

We were led to the boiler room by a nun with a paddle. She explained that we go to the boiler room so the other students wouldn't hear the crying. Trying to scare us.

The paddle was for the older students. The younger ones a yard stick was used.
Didn't hurt.

Third grade I got spanked a bit harder it stung. My friend and I got caught shooting squirt guns in church (catholic school).
After we got spanked the nun took us outside with a bucket. We were to fill our guns and shoot them into the bucket until it was full.

My friend thought we should break our squirt guns to end this. We broke them, but now we had to use a piece of broken plastic to use like spoon to fill the bucket. School ended before we finished.

.

6th grade, 1971-72. Mrs Featherston was the principal. One tough old bird.

A junior high PE teacher had a wiffle-paddle, but I don't recall him ever using it on anyone.

Never saw or heard of it happening in CA in the '80s. In 6th grade a yard duty mom grabbed a friend by the ear and dragged him to the office for something. Every boy in the class stormed the office and demanded to see the principal over the injustice we witnessed. We refused to leave until we had a promise it would never happen again and that mom would never be on our yard duty again.

My Dad was a Principal in Park Ridge IL. through the 50's and 60's. I never heard him say anything about spanking anybody or did I ever hear of a fellow student getting spanked.

1961-1965 all boys Jesuit H.S. - "spats" Fr. Sitter use a planed down baseball bat. Ouch

I started school in 1959 in Louisiana. 2-12 to the school I graduated from. They had no problem whipping our butts if needed. No problems at our school back then we even had our shotguns in our trucks.

They busted butts all the way from elementary through high school here in the 60s and 70s. Cured ADHD without meds. Just saw a Facebook thread about the famous Coach Collins and his paddle and the great affection my classmates still feel for him. He would light you up! I never goot in trouble at school because I knew how badly Daddy would beat my butt if I did. Plus, mom and dad both taught at the high school
i went to. I would never have dared embarrass them.

I was a frequent guest at the principal’s paddle party. I never told my parents, it would have been paddle time part 2, and twice as hard.

Late 70s in 8th grade shop. I got the belt gauntlet twice in one class. I still don’t know what I did to deserve it the first time. But the second, a kid I didn’t like was pushing every button I had. I finally took an oil can and squirted oil all up and down his face and the front of his shirt. The shop teacher’s eyes about exploded out of his face. LOL.

The gauntlet consisted of all the students lining up in two rows and you had to run through the line while everyone took a wack at your backside (no buckles). We had bum bats, the hot box and the hooks. We behaved pretty well as I recall.

We had Ms Harris with the “electric paddle.” It was a totally mundane piece of wood with holes drilled in it wrapped in electrical tape. Made a hell of a sound whipping through the air, but I’m pretty sure n hindsight that it couldn’t generate enough actual force to break an egg. As kids we were terrified of it and in our minds she was the gestapo and angel of death rolled into one.

Years later as a young Carnot I met her towards the end of her life and discovered that she was one of the sweetest and most loving human beings ever to live. She desperately loved all “her kids” and embraced that villain role with a gusto to keep us all in line.

I made it all the way to high school without ever visiting the principal, and by then Ms Harris had retired and hung up her paddle. I took my five licks from the principal and I absolutely deserved them. Hell, I deserved way more than five gentle love taps on the backside. Of course when my mother found out she rushed directly to the school in a sheer rage. Since then I’ve been shot at more than once, had a significant health scare, and been involved in a serious traffic crash. Never, not once, have I been in as much fear for my continued well being as when I saw my mother walk into that office…

It was a different time, and I’m not saying it was right, but it worked.

1978 in NOVA still used in private schools, but wasn't being used in public schools. I went from private Montessori to public is Sept 79. Got my butt beat last week of school may-june 79. The Principal was a fair, caring and hard disciplinarian. Her paddle was about 18" long, 5 or 6" wide and drilled full of holes. The aforementioned rod of discipline left welts many times on my backside

I went to a Catholic school run by the Sisters of the Sacred Hearts.

Let me tell you those sisters didn’t put up with any BS. Each teacher had either a yard stick or a regular 12 inch ruler and they weren’t afraid to use it. It didn’t take long for everyone to get in line.

This was in the 60’s in NH.

In High School after my Dad died my Mom felt I needed more male figures in my life so I was sent to an all boys Parochial school run by the Brothers of the Sacred Hearts and although corporal punishment wasn’t dolled out they had their own way of “making you see the light”.