Skip to main content

Detentions

Podcast- Detentions . . .


Nod your head if you remember the “punishment” of being kept after school - A Detention.


Punishment? I’m inclined to say the kids in our school thought detention was a joke. Let me give you a couple of examples, stick with me.


My graduating class of 1974 (grades 1-12) attended school in three different buildings. 

First, it was Cuba Elementary, a design that followed the era’s more modern, one-story, flat-roof design aesthetic. Here we attended grades one - six. No kindergarten when I started school.

Then we transitioned to the old High School building on Main Street, built-in 1913.  A three-story brick design similar to Jefferson High school from the TV sitcom Happy Days. 

And finally, our new building which I believe opened in 1970, connected, to the old one, via the Gymnasium and Cafeteria.

It was a grand achievement when we finally graduated to the 7th grade, Jr. High on Main Street. This was our first introduction to detention.

Frankly, I can’t remember all the reasons we were put on detention, can you?

Why not?

Simple, in grade school, we had a disciplinarian that relied on the old school method, a spanking. Discipline was never administered out of anger or loss of control. Just one firm thwack.

During those formative grade school years, 1965-1967, the sting of Mr. Tarter’s hand-made paddle was a frequent event. The entire school respected this disciplinarian. His paddle was prominently displayed for all to see.

We received bottom warmings because we were disobedient.

  • “No running in the halls.”
  • “Stop shooting spit-wads.”
  • “Don’t throw snowballs at each other.”

However, when we moved to the High School suddenly the method used to “discipline” unruly behavior was - detention. For example, we were repeatedly told,

  • “Don’t slide down the banisters.”
  • "Stop shooting spit-wads at the ceiling.”
  • “No running up and down the stairs.”

I’m sure, by now, you get the drift - kids have selective hearing. They block out the words, Don’tStop, and No to name just a few.


My first detention - caught - sliding down the wooden banisters. My “so-called” punishment was to stay one hour after school and help the janitor sweep the halls, the stairs, and clean the banisters.


You guessed it - now sliding down the banisters (after hours) was even more fun, they were clean and slick. Well, that form of detention didn’t last long.


Then it was on to High School. Our new building had a beautiful modern library that honestly, average students of my academic standing really didn’t visit much.


You see, “I was in that part of the class that made the top half possible.”


Detention became, “Report to the library. Bring paper and pencil with you.”


So, it was off to the library. And let me say this “social distancing” is not a new concept. The group of us, and yes there was always a group, were spaced at least six feet apart at the tables so we would not spend that hour just chattering.


We were assigned an encyclopedia, usually the first letter of our last name, and told to start copying, by hand, on any subject for one hour. I learned more about Benjamin Franklin during detentions than any history class.


You be the judge, was punishment associated with detention effective? Huh, the kids in our school didn’t think so.


This is Patrick Ball, thanks for listening, see you in the next episode.

Comments

Kevin said…
And do you remember the name of that janitor? A janitor was thought of as a sub person...not quite equal to us superior types. His name was Dennis ..what? Can you remember? No, he was just a janitor. Yep...people are judged by what they do...very sad. Dennis was fine person and did quite well as a lowly janitor..not worth naming.
Patrick B. Ball said…
Yes, I believe his name was Dennis Bishop, everyone called him Denny. He was also one of the school bus drivers. Everyone loved him. He was much more than just the janitor. He was a fine person, always friendly, and helpful.
Anonymous said…
Do you know what the most common piece of advice was for beginning teachers??? Yep. Get to know the custodians and the office secretaries right away. They know everything about the schools. And that’s what I did in both high schools. Best advice ever. Dennis was cool. Put up with our shit pretty well.
Being the star student I was, I only served one detention. Lol I have no idea what the topic was, but considering how much you remember, it seems detention was good for you. Lol.
Patrick B. Ball said…
Ok, Anonymous you have me baffled–who wrote this response?

Most Popular of All Time

Confidently Wrong: The Art of the AI Tall Tale

In this episode, A chat with Adamas the Chef on hidden recipes causing digital hallucinations. Pull up a chair and pour yourself a fresh cup of coffee—and please, for your own sake, taste it first. We need to have a quiet chat about why your computer sometimes decides to reinvent reality with the confidence of a five-star chef who has clearly lost his mind. In the world of technology, we call it a  hallucination . It sounds pretty dramatic, doesn’t it? As if the computer decided to ignore your instructions altogether in favor of a vivid, technicolor imagination that simply hasn’t met reality yet. But in truth, an AI hallucination isn’t a breakdown; it’s just a very confident, very polite mistake. Think of it like our friend Adamas , the Chef. Adamas is a master of the kitchen, but he is also a bit of a romantic who refuses to say “I don’t know.” When you ask him for a classic recipe he hasn’t made in years, he doesn’t stop to consult a cookbook—that’s far too pedestrian. Instead, ...

Opening Day Magic 2026 . . .

It’s back. Baseball—yes, baseball ! If you’re someone who finds themselves inexplicably drawn to this peculiar ritual, let’s be honest with each other: it’s a bit odd, right? I mean, 162 games. That’s a lot of hot dogs, a lot of standing around, and a lot of grown men in oddly tailored trousers spitting with remarkable precision. And yet, here we are, poised on the precipice of another season. Thursday, March 26, 2026, to be precise—Opening Day. It’s a curious thing, this Opening Day. You walk into a stadium, or turn on the TV, and suddenly, everyone is infected with a highly contagious strain of . . . Optimism . It’s a spectacular form of collective amnesia. All of last year’s fumbles, the endless losing streaks, the existential dread of watching your bullpen implode in the eighth inning—poof. Gone. It’s entirely replaced by a wide-eyed, childlike belief that this year, finally, the baseball gods will smile upon us. The Cycle of Hope and Despair As a Cubs fan, I know this cycle intim...

The Cowardice of Corporate Jargon

Picture this: an email lands in your inbox. A colleague—maybe even a friend—needs a favor, a second set of eyes, a moment of your time. You sigh, stare at the glow of your monitor, and type: “I’d love to help, but I just don’t have the bandwidth right now.” Hit send. Problem solved. Conscience clear. Except it shouldn’t be. Most of us have said or sent that line at least once, hoping it would land gently. On the surface, it’s perfect—efficient, polite, even self-aware. And that’s exactly the problem. It lets you decline without ever quite telling the truth. You didn’t just say no; you softened the discomfort of being human until it barely felt like a feeling at all. Instead of admitting, I’m overwhelmed , or I don’t have the energy , you reach for the sterile vocabulary of a server room. You turn a feeling into a metric. A boundary into a system limitation. Apologies, my data transfer rate is capped. Please submit a ticket to my emotional help desk. It’s a clever little trick—and an un...

The Light, The Void, and Integrity

There is something different about pre-dawn this morning. Sitting in my reading chair, an almost eerie, luminous glow crept through the window, demanding to be acknowledged. Stepping outside into the quiet chill, a nearly Full Moon was sinking into the West beneath a crystal-clear sky, the Big Dipper hanging faithfully in the dark above. But looking at that Moon meant looking at a ghost. Because light takes time to travel, the Moon we see in the sky is not the Moon as it exists in this exact microsecond. It is the Moon as it looked about a second and a quarter ago. When we look up, we are forever staring into the depths of the past. And right now, somewhere in that million-mile abyss between our present and that past light, four human beings are hurtling through the vacuum of space at unbelievable speeds. Today is Good Friday. For centuries, it has stood as a profound marker of the universal human experience—a day that asks us to sit with suffering, injustice, and the "dark night ...