Special Care
2010-06-17 21:06:54 UTC
Our Students Deserve Better
Eileen Eady, Jackson Free Press, March 3, 2010
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three young boys waited on a wooden bench in a brown-paneled office on
the hot May day. Anton stretched his legs out and slouched back, his
face blank and eyes flashing with anger. Next to him sat Reggie, whose
brown eyes darted around the room nervously. He was not a student I
usually saw in the office. The third boy, Derek, was crying. He was
hunched forward with his head in his hands, and I could see the tears
hitting the floor. I wanted to go over and talk to him, but I was new
and didn't want to be seen coddling the kids in the office.
The teacher came out of the assistant principal's office with a wooden
paddle in her hand. She was sweating and out of breath.
"Let's go. Let's get this over with," she said pointing at Anton. He
got up and followed her, strutting.
"Thwack, thwack, thwack."
The sound vibrated off the walls, and I became nauseous. Anton
sauntered out of the office. Reggie got up and went in. I could hear
soft murmuring from behind the door, then the sound again.
"Thwack, thwack, thwack."
With each strike, my stomach jumped. I wasn't emotionally prepared for
this.
Derek was more upset now. He kept rubbing his face and running his
hands over his black curly hair. Then Reggie came out of the office
crying, the teacher followed him, still holding the paddle. She
pointed at Derek and said: "Let's go. Your turn."
"No, please. No," Derek cried.
The teacher came toward him, and the assistant principal followed her
out. They each took one of Derek's hands and half carried, half
dragged him into the office. He screamed and pleaded the entire 15
feet from the bench to the door. The assistant principal shut the
door, and from inside I could hear Derek's pleading continue.
"Please. Don't give me licks. I won't do it again. I'm sorry. Please
no," Derek said.
Soft murmuring followed, and then the "thwack, thwack, thwack" again.
I was sick to my stomach. Never in my 10-year career in public schools
had I witnessed a paddling. Not even in inner-city Baltimore.
I was angry for the students, and as a mother I was outraged. I never
got used to hearing that sound. Not that day, and not on the spring
day when the two male assistant principals took to giving "licks" in
the hallway. Four times during first period, and then four more times
during second period, they disrupted my class with the paddling. I
thought the school administration had lost their minds. Later, the
principal told me that she had sent out the two men to "tighten up a
little" and get the students under control.
No one was under control that day. The random widespread paddling only
amped up the agitation at school.
Mississippi has the highest rate of corporal punishment in the United
States, and its use of corporal punishment is inconsistent and unfair.
African American boys in Mississippi are punished 1.7 times more than
would be expected based on their population. Yet there is no research
that shows that African American boys are 1.7 times more likely to
misbehave in school. Corporal punishment is not allowed in the prison
system, yet it is an acceptable way to discipline students in 23
states.
Corporal punishment has no place in our schools. There is no research
that proves it is effective at preventing misbehavior in students. In
fact, eight of the states that have the highest corporal punishment
rates are ranked among the top 10 states with the highest
incarceration rates.
And its use is arbitrary. Some schools paddle students for leaving
homework at home, while others reserve it for fights.
It escapes my comprehension that schools adopt a zero-tolerance policy
toward bullying but don't hesitate to hit a child on the buttocks with
a wooden board. Violence of any kind should not be tolerated. By
allowing students to be paddled in school, we are sending them a
message that violence is OK as long as someone in authority is doing
it. It is an archaic and lazy way of handling discipline issues.
School systems all over the country find ways of disciplining without
violence. Research-based systems of positive intervention and behavior
management are proven and effective. From New York to San Diego, these
techniques are implemented with success.
Our students in Mississippi deserve the same treatment. Students in
Mississippi deserve an education free of violence.
Eileen Eady, Jackson Free Press, March 3, 2010
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three young boys waited on a wooden bench in a brown-paneled office on
the hot May day. Anton stretched his legs out and slouched back, his
face blank and eyes flashing with anger. Next to him sat Reggie, whose
brown eyes darted around the room nervously. He was not a student I
usually saw in the office. The third boy, Derek, was crying. He was
hunched forward with his head in his hands, and I could see the tears
hitting the floor. I wanted to go over and talk to him, but I was new
and didn't want to be seen coddling the kids in the office.
The teacher came out of the assistant principal's office with a wooden
paddle in her hand. She was sweating and out of breath.
"Let's go. Let's get this over with," she said pointing at Anton. He
got up and followed her, strutting.
"Thwack, thwack, thwack."
The sound vibrated off the walls, and I became nauseous. Anton
sauntered out of the office. Reggie got up and went in. I could hear
soft murmuring from behind the door, then the sound again.
"Thwack, thwack, thwack."
With each strike, my stomach jumped. I wasn't emotionally prepared for
this.
Derek was more upset now. He kept rubbing his face and running his
hands over his black curly hair. Then Reggie came out of the office
crying, the teacher followed him, still holding the paddle. She
pointed at Derek and said: "Let's go. Your turn."
"No, please. No," Derek cried.
The teacher came toward him, and the assistant principal followed her
out. They each took one of Derek's hands and half carried, half
dragged him into the office. He screamed and pleaded the entire 15
feet from the bench to the door. The assistant principal shut the
door, and from inside I could hear Derek's pleading continue.
"Please. Don't give me licks. I won't do it again. I'm sorry. Please
no," Derek said.
Soft murmuring followed, and then the "thwack, thwack, thwack" again.
I was sick to my stomach. Never in my 10-year career in public schools
had I witnessed a paddling. Not even in inner-city Baltimore.
I was angry for the students, and as a mother I was outraged. I never
got used to hearing that sound. Not that day, and not on the spring
day when the two male assistant principals took to giving "licks" in
the hallway. Four times during first period, and then four more times
during second period, they disrupted my class with the paddling. I
thought the school administration had lost their minds. Later, the
principal told me that she had sent out the two men to "tighten up a
little" and get the students under control.
No one was under control that day. The random widespread paddling only
amped up the agitation at school.
Mississippi has the highest rate of corporal punishment in the United
States, and its use of corporal punishment is inconsistent and unfair.
African American boys in Mississippi are punished 1.7 times more than
would be expected based on their population. Yet there is no research
that shows that African American boys are 1.7 times more likely to
misbehave in school. Corporal punishment is not allowed in the prison
system, yet it is an acceptable way to discipline students in 23
states.
Corporal punishment has no place in our schools. There is no research
that proves it is effective at preventing misbehavior in students. In
fact, eight of the states that have the highest corporal punishment
rates are ranked among the top 10 states with the highest
incarceration rates.
And its use is arbitrary. Some schools paddle students for leaving
homework at home, while others reserve it for fights.
It escapes my comprehension that schools adopt a zero-tolerance policy
toward bullying but don't hesitate to hit a child on the buttocks with
a wooden board. Violence of any kind should not be tolerated. By
allowing students to be paddled in school, we are sending them a
message that violence is OK as long as someone in authority is doing
it. It is an archaic and lazy way of handling discipline issues.
School systems all over the country find ways of disciplining without
violence. Research-based systems of positive intervention and behavior
management are proven and effective. From New York to San Diego, these
techniques are implemented with success.
Our students in Mississippi deserve the same treatment. Students in
Mississippi deserve an education free of violence.