Tag Archives: Punishment

.Very recently my wife was watching the local news when she was transfixed by a report on a physical classroom skirmish between a twelve year old inner-city girl and her middle-aged female teacher. We couldn’t believe what we were seeing for something like that was unthinkable in the days of our own youth.
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 tall, of medium weight. She hung her cane of discipline beside the blackboard. One morning during the first term I had forgotten to bring my math homework to class and got six strokes in the palms of my hands. Another day I was caught gabbing away in class and got five lashes on my thighs. But the usual site was on the hands (that changed some months later).
{{ I turned 11 years old in January 1980 and underwent a huge physical metamorphosis. I began overeating copiously so that every meal was humongous. By April 1980 I had become truly obese (like a Sumo wrestler), and I now had an enormous gigantic belly which jiggled and shook when I walked. My belly was an enormous sack of flab which hung two feet over my pants. I’d do the top buttons of my shirt but could not button the lower ones. The front of my belly was now always exposed. Initially, everybody stared at me, but soon they got used to it.}}
One day during a math test this girl sitting beside me was clueless so I gave her the answers to the questions. As I tried to slip her a bit of paper with the answers, Ms Lawson caught me and called us both up. She explained to the rest of the class what we had done then reached for her cane. She then gave me five strokes on my belly. She caned the girl on the hands.
Another day I got five strokes on 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 of the cane in my belly and five on my hands. My enemies giggled as they stared at 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. She was pleased with our consistent high scores in our tests and exams (all A’s), but if I turned in incomplete homework, came to class after the bell rung, or messed up otherwise, she’d get irate and the cane would be flayed leaving painful welts and bruises. The cane scars on my hands and arms woud vanish in a day or two, but those on my belly remained, and by June 1980, there was a criss cross pattern of black cane scars on the front of my belly. These black scars or stripes, would intrigue the other kids in my neighbourhood. One cute girl, for instance, would tell me, “Fatty, I love your scars; it’s like you were in a battle.”
To my mom and the other adults the scars were evidence that a diligent school teacher was effectively managing her class. Everybody from that class has attained success in life today. 10 years after leaving Ms Lawson’s class I received my Bachelor of Science degree in Chemistry, then later I obtained a PhD in Pharmacology and am a pharmacist and college professor today.