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I grew up on the island of Jamaica and entered Grade 5 at the age of 10 in September 1979 at a rural primary school. My class teacher was Ms Cheryl Lawson, then 34 years old, 5 ft. 10 ins. tall, of medium weight. She hung her cane of discipline beside the blackboard. It was three and a half feet long and over half inch thick. One morning during the first term I had forgotten to bring my math homework to class and got six strokes on the palms of my hands. Another day I was caught talking away in class and got six strokes on my thighs. But the usual site was on the hands (that changed some months later). Each stroke of the cane brought severe pain.
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One day during a math test this gier seated beside me was having a hard time so I offered her some help by jotting down my answers on a bit of paper and slipping them to her. As soon as I had stuffed the paper into her hand Ms Lawson caught us and called us both up. She explained to the class what we had done then reached for her cane. With all her might, she gave me five strokes on my belly. She caned the girl on the hands.
Another day I got five strokes in the belly and five on the hands for excessive talking.
Yet another day I had forgotten my Civics textbook and Ms Lawson dealt me five strokes in the belly and five on my hands. My enemies were amused by the welts and bruises on my belly.
The girls in our class would cry after being caned, but most of us boys never did. Nobody was ever sent to the principal. We were always respectful to our teachers. Everybody always wore the proper uniform to school. Our parents had nothing but praise for Ms Lawson who was viewed as a pillar of our community. She was pleased with our consistemt high scores in our tests and assignments (all A’s), but if I turned in incomplete homework, came to class after the bell rung, or erred otherwise, she’d get irate and the cane would be flayed leaving painful welts and bruises.
The cane scars on my hands and arms would vanish within a day, but those on my belly remained, and by July 1980, there was a criss cross pattern of black cane scars on the front of my belly. These black scars or stripes intrigued the other kids in my neighborhood. One pretty girl, for instance, told me, ‘”Fatty, these are like scars of battle; you are my knight” as she rubbed them.
To my mom and other adults they were evidence that a diligent school teacher was efectively managing her class. Everybody from that class has attained success in life today. 1o years after leaving Ms Lawson’s class I received my Bachelor of Science in Chemistry, then later I obtaiined a PhD in Pharmacology, and I am a pharnacist and college professor today.