Corporal Punishment

Getting Acquainted with Ophelia

When I was in school no one thought too much about corporal punishment for wrong doing.   The first time I got it I was in the second grade.  I don’t remember the infraction, but I had to hold out my hand while the teacher paddled it with a ruler.  It stung a little, but it was no big deal.

After I moved Elmdale, Mrs. Sheffield paddled me one time for the great infraction of talking when I wasn’t supposed to. Imagine that!  The worst punishment I got from her was one she threatened and never carried out.  I got caught fighting on the playground.   I was taken to the principal and forced to memorize poetry, which wasn’t that bad, but I had to recite it before a group of older kids, and my brain turned to mush.   When I went down to see the principal, Mrs. Sheffield said, “When you get through with Norman, send him back to me. I’m going to give him a paddling.”   As it happened, I didn’t get sent back to her that day.  I dreaded it so much that I faked illness and convinced my parents that I was too sick to go to school the next day. I went so far as to allow them to dose me with Ex Lax.  It was coming up on the weekend, so I didn’t get back to school for three days.  I dreaded it the whole time.  When I got back Mrs. Sheffield didn’t do anything, but I worried about when she might jerk me up and apply the board of education to the seat of learning.  It never happened.  It would have been better if it had.  Then I could have put it behind me.   One thing is for sure.  I never got caught fighting again.

Corporal punishment was a regular thing in high school ag class. Ag boys tend to be an unruly bunch, and the teachers had to be heavy handed disciplinarians to keep order.  On the first day of class, our Ag teacher, Mr. Snow, introduced us to “Ophelia” (with emphasis on the “feel”).   Ophelia was 1”x4” board with a handle on one end.  She hung in a prominent place in the classroom.  Discipline was swift and punishment was certain.  However, you always got a trial.   When an accusation was made, your fate was voted on by your classmates.    There was never anything but a guilty verdict.   The only question was whether you got one or two licks, which doesn’t sound like much, but believe you me, Mr. Snow could just about raise you off the floor with Ophelia.   There was another rule.  The class would laugh at you, and if you didn’t laugh too, you would get another lick.  Everybody who got spanked laughed not matter how much it hurt. 

I got it for chewing gum, and I think I got another one for talking too much one day.   I’m still not wild about chewing gum, but it didn’t do anything to curb my talking.  Compared to the stuff that goes on in school today, my indiscretions sound pretty tame.    Mr. Snow was replaced by Mr. Barron, who was red headed.   Everybody in town called him “Red.”   But woe to any student who would ever address him as “Red Barron.”

I don’t think it damaged my psyche.  My parents didn’t complain to the principal about it.  As a matter of fact I never told them. I’m sure there probably some brutal instructors who abused kids, but I really didn’t ever see it.  I don’t have any bad feelings toward the teachers who spanked me.  I still regard them all quite highly.  If any of them are still alive, I would probably address them as “Mr.” or “Mrs.”