A few months ago, I blogged about public schools and the lost sport of dodgeball. While I knew it would draw some nostalgia, I was surprised that thousands of people took the time to read about it and hundreds took the time to comment about it.

 

With that blog still fresh in my mind, my daily scroll through social media brought me back in touch with another thing no longer taking place in public schools. And that would be a form of corporal punishment known as paddling.

 

The memory was triggered by the picture shown in this blog. If you are in my age bracket of 50-plus years of age, or maybe even a few years younger, you may recall the photo. Better yet, you may recall seeing it perched on a window ledge by the teacher’s desk.

 

From first grade through ninth grade at North View Junior High School where I attended, you ran the risk of getting lit up for stepping out of line. I am certain it was the case here in Bridgeport, elsewhere in Harrison County, statewide, and across the nation.

 

Somehow, I managed in those nine years to only get paddled four times. One of those times was courtesy of former Bridgeport softball coach and decades long educator – who is still subbing by the way – Larry “Rabbit” Snider.

 

Since he was my go-to during the dodgeball blog, I called him on the paddle. As I expected, he did not disappoint.

 

While neither he nor I could recall an exact date when it ended, I told him I believe it was around 1983, my freshman year. Not one time while a student at Liberty do I recall as student getting paddled. That does not mean it did not happen after that, but Coach Snider and I both believed 1983 was the last time it happened.

 

For purposes of this blog, the date is irrelevant. Also, please note this is not a political blog. Rather, just one former student’s thoughts on that piece of wood and one teacher’s memories of how it worked.

 

Let me assure you it worked. Snider and I both recalled its effectiveness, and why, when I broached it with him.

 

“The reality of it working was the immediacy of it,” said Snider. “If you did something wrong, the consequences were taken care of right then. There was no waiting, no channel of things to go through to resolve it. It was instantaneous and, because of that, it was a deterrent.”

 

Even with that deterrent, Coach Snider got me my freshman year. I was one of five he lined up that felt the wood on my backside. I knew it then, and definitely know it now, I earned it.

 

What we did not recall was if Snider used his own paddle that day. I still recall we were having health class, far away from where we usually had it, on the third floor at NVJHS so he may have used the paddle of our math teacher, Alfred Rogers.

 

Regardless, most of the paddles – not all – had one thing in common. The late shop teacher at the school, Pete Perri, was an assembly line producer of them as needed.

 

“I’m fairly sure Mr. Perri made mine. He made a lot of them,” Snider said with a laugh.

 

The assembly line produced different boards. The size, width, and thickness would vary. Some would have holes in them. Others would see the educator put a little tape around the handle or even have a hole drilled on said handle to put a piece of rope through to carry.

 

They were all different. Snider said his was probably two feet long, six inches wide, and three-quarters of an inch thick. Yet, they all did one thing every distinctly.

 

“You didn’t have to use it to keep kids in line. You just had to look at it and the students knew it was readily available to be used,” said Snider. “You didn’t want to be the one to suffer the consequences.”

 

You also did not want to be a member of the “double dip” club. In the 1970s and 1980s just about everyone that got paddled became part of that club. Staying out of that club was deterrent number two.

 

“If you got paddled in school, you faced consequences when you got home,” said Snider.

 

Eventually, corporal punishment was eliminated. I am certain many believe it is for the better. While that can be debated, a decades-long educator like Snider said the “alternative methods” put in place were not as effective.

 

“I think the mistaken part when people look back at paddling is that some think it was the first choice for punishment. It was never the first choice. It usually was the culmination of multiple things,” said Snider. “There were some that knew what they were going to do and would come to school wearing extra shorts or sweatpants over their pants.”

 

Today, the concept is considered by some as barbaric. And I am certain, just like with any situation, a teacher may have gone too far, may have missed their mark when paddling, which could have led to problems. By and large, I always felt it worked and was applied fairly.

 

Snider said it worked because of something that is lacking today on the discipline front far too often. The teacher’s decision for punishment was supported on the home front.

 

“There wasn’t much, if any, blowback. What I remember is that if I heard back from the parents, it was reinforcement for the paddling. They let us know if their child stepped out of line then they were to be disciplined,” Snider said. “There are parents that back punishment today, but the reinforcement is not like it was years ago. It’s changed.”

 

One thing has not, according to Snider.

 

“Kids haven’t changed. Society has changed. Kids will always do what they do, but how society views things, how parenting is done, has changed,” said Snider. “In a lot of cases that has resulted in lost accountability and discipline.”

 

Back in 1983, accountability sat on a window ledge. And its one purpose was discipline.

 

Although long-since retired, the paddle met that purpose.  

 

Editor's Note: Top photo shows a paddle hanging from a blackboard as opposed to the standard the blogger was used to - on the window ledge. Bottom photo, by Ben Queen Photography, is of former BHS softball coach and long-time educator Larry "Rabbit" Snider.