Kids today aren’t being beaten enough, says a substitute teacher wanting to reinstate corporal punishment in the Dallas school district.
His web site “Bring Back Licks” shows support from teachers and parents.
Based on my experiences, it’s a bad idea.
I was and probably still am the reigning “licks champion” at Bailey Junior High School in Arlington.
Corporal punishment was common when I attended Bailey back then, but licks never scared me. Vice Principal Hodge and several coaches had some ferocious swings and made many a tough kid break down in tears. But, for some reason, I could handle the pain and was pretty much fearless.
During my three years at Bailey, about a dozen of my friends held a contest each year to see who could get the most licks.
I won every year.
Any time one of my friends would get licks and surpass my total, I would purposely do something wrong, get sent to the principal or to a coach, get my licks, tally my score, and retake the lead.
In my 9th grade year, a coach learned of the contest and decided he would give a couple of us licks so severe that nobody would ever want another one.
The coach summoned a schoolmate and me into his office one day. We were getting ready for gym class and were wearing only lightweight shorts and jockstraps. Our tender ass cheeks had almost nothing to cushion the blow of a thick, wooden paddle being swung by a purposeful if psychotic sadist.
“Who wants to go first?” the coach asked.
My friend hesitated. I volunteered, grabbed the edge of a desk, tightened my butt cheeks, and prepared for the worst.
That lick was by far the most painful and violent one I’d ever endured. The resulting bruise on my ass was so deep and ugly that it could have served as ample evidence in an aggravated assault trial, but I didn’t complain or show the wound to my parents (they were unaware of my accomplishment as licks champ).
As it turns out, my friend fared much worse. The lick he got was no more vicious than my own, but he’d had to stand there and watch me get mine. He saw the insane look in the coach’s eyes, his two-handed baseball grip swing, the veins in his neck sticking out. He’d heard the loud “whack!” and heard my yell and watched my knees buckle.
I was glad I went first.
I was also glad I had another lick to add to my total score.
That’s how a true champion thinks!