8 December 2001
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So I was pretty bored yesterday and I spent a good chunk of my afternoon reading about Rob's daughter Schuyler and her journey from "grub to chub." (Not that you have to be bored to get wrapped up into Rob's writing, but I'm just setting the scene for you.) It's easy for me to get sucked into All Things Baby, and even easier when said baby looks like Schuyler. Anyway, in his writings about his daughter Rob makes his Stance on Spanking very clear, which is to say that he's decidedly anti-spanking. I emailed my friend and asked him what he thought about it, and he said that he'd always been pretty undecided but that he was spanked, paddled and belted as a child. I had always thought that I was pretty much in the unsure camp as well until our conversation delved a bit deeper and we were both surprised to learn that we were actually very much against spanking. You could almost say vehemently so. (Bear with me as this is just another example of me writing while thinking, and who knows where I'm going, but why am I ranting all the time?) I was spanked as a child, and in the past I might have said that I was spanked and I turned out a-okay, so therefore spanking isn't harmful. But really, once I really started thinking about it, I'm pretty sure I turned out just dandy despite being spanked. I can't think of specific examples, except to say that I wasn't spanked often, but when I was it was usually because 1. I was being really, really extra bad and 2. my mother had no idea what to do with me anymore. Yes, I said my mother. I can only think of once instance when my dad physically disciplined me. (Which isn't surprising, because if you know me or have read me for awhile you probably know that my dad never really parented me, especially not when we were still living in the same home.) And based on those two facts it's not hard to come to the conclusion that I was spanked, not as worthy punishment, but because my mom was exasperated and at the end of her rope. So who was spanking benefiting? Her, of course. Which is not to say that it didn't really hurt her more than it hurt me or that she doesn't look back on those moments with horror, as I'm sure she does. But the fact is, spanking is often a gut reaction and a physical manifestation of fear, frustration, anger etc. One of my family's "funny stories" is the time my mom chased my brother around with a wooden spoon. (See? It sounds barbaric, but my brother and I laugh till we pee remembering it, and even now, 20 odd years later my mother looks like she wants to crawl into herself during every retelling.) Basically my brother squirmed out of her grasp (she occasionally spanked us with a wooden kitchen spoon, I'm guessing because her hand wasn't strong enough), and she ended up chasing him in a loop - through the dining room, skidding across the foyer, into the living room, around through the kitchen, back into the dining room - while I sat on the steps and spectated. It's funny now because I remember how my brother's tube socks were halfway off his feet and he was sliding across the tile. (Sort of like that Far Side cartoon where the little boy is being chased around his kitchen table by wolves.) And it's funny now because that's only one story among thousands that recount my mom's amazingness. And I did know that my mom loved me. That was never under any question, and I guess I knew, or perhaps I learned, that she spanked me because I misbehaved and this was my punishment. But why did I have to learn that? Growing up, two of my best little girl friends were belted. (Remember, I grew up in Texas and one of the fathers was a huge, hulking Texas railroad man who wore boots every day of his life, drank whiskey, read Playboy in the living room while we watched t.v. and ate steak every night for dinner. She'd get "whipped," as they called it, by the belt off his waist while he'd hold the big brass buckle in his giant fist.) Even at six-years-old I knew that what happened to my little friends was wrong, wrong, WRONG. That no one's daddy should wail at them with a leather belt, but I thought nothing of a few whacks on my backside from my mother's palm. (Well, I guess I shouldn't say, "felt nothing" because she was stronger than she gave herself credit for, but you know what I mean.) I come from a religious, Biblically-based family where sparing the rod is spoiling the child, and many in my family might tell you that had I been spanked a little bit more maybe I'd be a little less bratty. And I'd be a liar if I told you that I fear raising snotty kids. I used to baby-sit for a woman, a woman I like very much, whose children are certifiable brats. They don't listen, behave, have manners or any respect for their parents, and therefore for any adult, period. As it turns out, they've never been spanked. Granted, that's a big leap to make, but when I'm watching them and they're drowning in crocodile tears, sneaking out of bed and still wearing diapers at age four I have to wonder that if maybe they feared their parents just a little more none of these behaviors would be driving me up the wall. And many, many smart, respectable people - some people that I'm related to who I love very much - would say that yes, if their parents spanked them (always in a loving way with an explanation) that they would have a healthy fear of their parents and therefore respect them and therefore display good behavior. But I don't want Junior to behave because he's scared of me. I want him to behave because it's the right thing to do, and because he knows it's the right thing to do. If we're giving kids enough credit and saying that they'll understand that spanking equals love, why aren't we giving them enough credit that they'll understand why they were wrong in the first place? Also (not to make the dreaded pet to child comparison, but I have to because this burns me up the most), it's pretty well accepted among trainers and breeders that negative reinforcement doesn't work at all. All it will get you is an aggressive, or submissive-aggressive, ill-behaved animal. And I know how it feels to tell your dog "no" a thousand times and have her not listen, or turn around and growl at you, and all you want to do is whack her a little on the backside. But if I sat here and wrote how I just smacked Montego around, I bet a million-to-one that I'd get a thousand hate emails before my hand even stopped stinging. "A dog doesn't understand." "A dog can't be reasoned with." Well, you look your two-year-old in the face and you tell her you love her while you use all 200 of your pounds to spank her tiny bottom, leaving a red mark across her cheeks and then tell me that she understands your reasoning. So if we've figured out that hitting our DOGS isn't the answer, why haven't we figured out that hitting our KIDS isn't the answer? I think that sums it all up right there. So I don't know what kind of alternative-to-spanking method I'll come up with, but I know I'll think of something. (And as we all know, there's time.) Because, simply put, there's no other option.
The notify and I are exchanging Christmas cards! If you're not on the list, and you'd still like to participate, send me your address and I'll email you my mail drop. Mail is fun. But only when it's anthrax free.
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