Respect

The Paddle, The Pay Phone, and Respect

I grew up with teachers that were strict and a principal that would spank us with a shoe or paddle when we got out of hand. Nobody called a lawyer. Nobody threatened to sue. You acted up, you got handled, and then you got handled again when you got home.

Kids nowadays lack discipline and do things that when I grew up we would be whipped at school and at home. We talked back once. Once. You cut up in class, the teacher sent you to the office, and Mr. Jenkins had that wooden paddle with holes drilled in it hanging on the wall. He didn’t ask for your side of the story. He told you to grab your ankles. It stung, it embarrassed you, and it worked. You didn’t do it again.

You didn’t cuss at adults. You didn’t put your hands on a teacher. You didn’t walk out of class because you were “triggered.” We had feelings too, but we also had consequences. If the school didn’t get you, Mama did. And Mama didn’t play. The same belt she used to hold up her pants was the same belt that reminded you who was in charge.

We did not grow up with social media and somehow a pay phone was always around us after memorizing numbers of our family and friends. If you got in trouble at school, you couldn’t hide it. No TikTok to distract you. No DM to vent to. You had to sit with it. You had to walk home and face it. You had to be bored, and in that boredom you learned how to think. You learned how to talk to people face to face. You learned how to solve problems without posting about them.

I memorized my house number, my grandma’s number, my best friend’s number, and the number to the skating rink. If I was late, I found a quarter and a pay phone. If I was lost, I asked an adult for help. We weren’t tracked, we weren’t coddled, we were raised.

That strictness gave us boundaries. The paddle gave us pause before we acted stupid. Knowing Mama was coming behind the principal gave us double reason to think twice. It wasn’t abuse. It was accountability. It was adults being adults and kids being kids who knew there was a line you didn’t cross.

Look around now. Kids cuss out teachers on camera for likes. They fight in the halls while everybody records. They have no fear because there are no consequences.

I’m not saying everything back then was perfect. But we knew right from wrong, and we knew what happened when you chose wrong. Discipline isn’t hate. It’s love with a backbone. Mama didn’t raise me with a paddle because she enjoyed it. She raised me with it because she wasn’t going to raise a fool.

We turned out alright. We can take correction. We can handle the word no. We can function without an audience. Maybe it’s because somebody loved us enough to stop us before we wrecked ourselves. Maybe it was the shoe, the paddle, the pay phone, and the fact that the whole neighborhood could whoop you and then tell your parents.

Call it old school. I call it effective.