second grade--paddles and hula hoops

Mrs Kazarian was my second grade teacher and our classroom was on the second floor of the school. And, will wonders never cease, I got into trouble in her class, too.

It was a gorgeous spring day and our school was having a hula hoop contest for the fifth and sixth graders. The contest was held outside on the school's front lawn but only fifth and sixth graders were allowed to watch it. We younger ones missed out on all the excitement.

The teachers across the hall, whose classrooms overlooked the front lawn, opened their windows and allowed their students to watch the festivities from their own classroom. As Mrs Kazarian stepped across the hall to also watch, she looked back into our classroom and said sternly,

"Do not leave your seats. I'll be right back."

Sounds like clear instruction to me.

I got up, peeked out the door with several others and decided I'd make a run for it and blend in with the other students to watch out the windows. I'd never be noticed in the crowd and then I'd get back to my desk before my teacher came back, or at best she'd never really be mad because she'd understand I just wanted to see all the fun.

Boy, was I wrong.

I maneuvered my way through the other kids and got up to the window. I saw the hula hoopers going to town swinging those hips round and round. It looked like fun for the moment, but after a while it was just hula hoopers swinging their hips round and round.

I got bored.

So did Mrs Kazarian.

She noticed her students mixed in with the others.

"Get back to class."

I was a dead woman.

We got back to class and she was very upset that a some of us didn't obey her and stay in our room. We got the ultimate punishment. A paddling in front of the class. Good grief! I wasn't expecting a whipping. It was first grade all over again! Maybe some yelling. Extra work. Writing sentences. Not that! Anything but that!

Mrs Kazarian lined us up in front of all our classmates--four terrified children, boys first. Rebel that I was, I was the only girl--and then she proceeded to paddle our behinds with a ping pong paddle.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Swoosh!

There was a definite advantage to wearing a dress to school. The paddle stung a little but the full skirt of my dress deflected most of the momentum of that deadly weapon. We all left the front rubbing our backsides. That would be a lesson to us--and to the whole class.

We should always obey Mrs Kazarian.

Mrs Kazarian was a good teacher. She was very fair and I certainly don't harbor any hard feelings toward her. She did me great favor by nipping this little girl's rebellion in the bud.

Maybe the time in our culture for corporal punishment in our schools has passed. I don't know. I do know that not every teacher is emotionally fit enough to wield a paddle, but I also believe that sometimes strict discipline and corporal punishment have a place. I deserved getting into trouble for my offense and because of the swift carriage of justice by my teacher I never directly disobeyed a teacher of mine again.

My inner rebel surrendered.