Skip to main content

Discipline

Main Street, Cuba, Il.
Allow me to share a story with you. You see, 2014 is the 40th year anniversary of Cuba High School’s class of 1974. My class. You’ve all heard the tiresome cliche, “Times flies.” Well, it does. No kidding! While going through scanned photos of my High School year books, I was transported back in time . . .

“You know how this goes,” said my sixth grade teacher. “Face the chalk board, feet spread apart, bend over, hands on the desk - sssmaaack as the paddle hit its mark on my hind-side. 

Honestly, I don’t even remember what this paddling was for. But I do remember the sting, and the embarrassment I felt standing in front of the class. No, I wasn’t the only one. Like all schools we had our share of misfits. In our small, rural farming community of west central Illinois I’m happy to report there was no teen violence, no shootings, and no serious vandalisms. Well, ok, we did tend to torment the local policeman, who we dubbed Barney Fife. A group of us would hide behind Mr. Welch’s garden fence on Main Street and throw leftover rotted tomatoes as “Barney” drove by. Anyway . . . 

During those formative grade school years, 1965-1967, the sting of Mr. Tarter’s paddle was a regular occurrence. The entire grade school feared this disciplinarian. His paddle was prominently displayed for all to see. Now that I think about it, I can’t remember any girls getting the paddle. Oh well, I’m sure we deserved it. We were told repeatedly:

“No running in the halls.”

“Stop shooting spit-wads at each other.”

“Do not throw snowballs at the girls.”

“No sliding on the ice,” and many other boneheaded activities that only the boys always got into. Yes, we can laugh about this now but back then this was serious stuff. The principle always sent a note home with the student who received discipline. I remember many classmates in tears, more afraid of the note and what their parents would do than the paddling itself.

We received paddling because we were rebellious. In our school discipline was never administered out of anger or loss of control. I recently read that a 1995 government report from Sweden found that child abuse and teen violence actually increased dramatically after spanking was outlawed in that country.

Anyway, back to the issue at hand. I’ve been working on a Powerpoint presentation for my graduating class’s 40th year reunion. It’s more of a tribute really. My High School class of 1974 graduated with a whopping 60 students. Ten percent of those classmates have now passed on. Two just this past August.

Have you ever taken time to really examine those photos from the past? Or looked at what your community involvement was during those developmental years? After reviewing the documented facts, I’ve noticed that my recall of activities and events may be a little blurry. However, from the yearbook photos I’m able to quickly identify all of my classmates. Thankfully, my memory is still somewhat intact. Then I go to our class’s FaceBook forum and I’m startled, Who are these people?

You know you’re getting older when you compare your high school photo to what you see in the mirror every morning and wonder, Who is that? Scary.

Well, I need to quit rambling and get back to that PowerPoint presentation I promised - discipline. I’m sure Mr. Tarter won’t be there to paddle me if I don’t follow instructions or complete my assigned task. However, the discipline he established, in me, drives me to finish what I begin, with pride.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Mom Was Right

In this episode: Mom Was Right (Again!) . . . Remember that old saying, "Mom knows best?" Well, this week, it resonated profoundly. I vividly recall my mother's steadfast remedy for the common cold, which was ingrained in my 1960s childhood: "Rest in bed, drink plenty of fluids, and take aspirin to reduce pain and fever." . . . Or now that I think about it, this may have been a Bayer aspirin commercial–Simple . . . Fast-forward to the age of AI and endless medical information at our fingertips, and guess what? Not much has changed. Yet, somehow, this week, Lori and I were blindsided by a cold—the first in over five years. My incredulous "How could this be?" quickly morphed into a dawning realization. Our company's annual meeting, a melting pot of colleagues from Illinois, Texas, Vietnam, Colorado, Northern California, and the Central Valley, was a veritable petri dish of germs. And, oh, the germs found me! Getting sick, especially after a long str...

Whispers of Spring

In this episode, Whispers of Spring . . . Spring has a way of sneaking in when you’re not looking. One day, you’re shaking off the last chill of winter, and the next, you realize the light has shifted, stretching shadows just a little longer. It didn’t make a big fuss about it—no dramatic entrance, no trumpets—just a quiet unfolding, like an old dog settling into a sunny spot on the porch. Last week, Daylight Saving Time kicked in, which meant we all fumbled with our clocks, grumbled a bit, and then, like frogs taken aback by a warm rain, leapt forward into longer evenings. The sun now lingers, in no rush to set, hanging in the sky like a tossed coin that refuses to fall. With the extra daylight, we find ourselves drawn outside once again, migrating to the back patio like folks are drawn to a warm campfire. The lawn chairs are right where we left them, waiting like old friends. The air hums with wind chimes, their tuned cylinders catching the breeze and weaving together something that...

Special April Fools' Edition: Did You Fall For It?

In this episode: Special April Fools' Edition: Did You Fall For It? (And a Little Baseball Nonsense) Welcome, fellow baseball aficionados and purveyors of the peculiar, to a very special, dare we say unpredictable, issue of On the Fly! Today, the air is thick with . . . well, probably just regular air, but a specific mischievous something is buzzing around. Can you feel it? Does that tingling sensation make you double-check your shoelaces and suspiciously eye any unusual packages? Yes, dear readers, it’s April 1st! A day steeped in mystery, shrouded in playful deception, and frankly, a day where you shouldn't believe anything you read (except maybe this . . .maybe). But before we descend into a whirlwind of whimsical falsehoods (don’t worry, we’ll mostly keep it light!), let’s take a quick, slightly wobbly, historical flight through the origins of this most unreliable of holidays. Whispers from the annals suggest a few intriguing possibilities for why we dedicate this particula...

At 92–Don's Digital Daydream

Listen to the audio here. In a world of his own–lives, ole' Doctor Don, Not one world, but three, 'til the setting of the sun! There’s his Blog-World , so bright, with words all a-whirl, And Book-World , with stories of boy and girl! Then, Day-World , where legs didn't leap, didn't run, Just shuffled and creaked 'til each day is done. But his brain, oh, his mind, it’s zippy and keen, A most curious fellow that ever was seen! At ninety and two, with a twinkle so bright, He met Chatty and said, "What a strange delight!" This box with the answers, so quick and so bold, Of theology and stories, new truths to unfold!" "Integrity, relationships, where do they fit? This thing makes me wonder, bit by bit!" He ponders and pokes with laughter and a grin, "Til POOF! he has gone to a world from within! A world made of words, a fantastical place, Where limits of the body, left not a trace! He Soares, and he zooms, with a thought and a rhyme, Trans...