I was sitting in the back of the
social worker's car, as I thought about that last word on the Grasshills
brochure: 'corporal punishment'. I had never been spanked before,
I even had only been slapped around the ears 2 times in my whole life!
I've had heard stories from my previous classmates about how their
mothers would take them over the knee and spank them on their pyama-trousers. But
I wasn't very worried. I always considered myself to be a fairly good
boy, I always did what my parents asked from me, and never had a foster
parent complaint to the social workers. It actually made me kind of
interested in how it would look like to see my new brothers and sisters
getting spanked. Only to see spankings interested me, not to feel.
I was horrified by the thought of being spanked, but then again, I
didn't expect to be spanked. How wrong I was. After 4 hours we drove
into what looked like a small village. It was a nice village, it sort
of looked like that village from 'the little house on the prairie',
except that it was more modern. At the gate I noticed a sign that
read "no car driving allowed, only with permission". I guess my social
worker must have had permission. Then it hit me; this was The Grasshills! I
felt a little weird, because the village looked somewhat like a commune,
but as soon as the social worker lead me into my new foster-house,
I noticed this was just an old-fashioned kind of village with nothing
strangely religious about it. "So you must be Robin Bridges?" A
man I didn't know said . He was a tall man deep in his 40's and I
immediately understood that he was my knew father. "Yes sir", I
replied. "Well then, let me give you a tour around the house and
the village." He said. Mr. Simmons, that was his name, first introduced
me to the rest of the family. There was of course Steven Simmons,
who I was allowed to call either 'father' or 'sir'. Then there was
my new mother, her name was Harriet Simmons and I could call her 'mother'
or 'ma'am'. The family consisted of one brother, Pete, who was my
age (10) and two older sisters: Mary (11) and Sandra (13). I got aquainted
with them and they appeared to like me, which to me was a relief. After
I'd been introduced to my new family, father lead me around the village,
showing me the grocery store, the swimming pool, the church (unlike
me father was a fairly religious man, that means he went to church
every sunday and his rules were based on the bible, but he wasn't
like those christian extremists) and the school. He told me the school
was for both genders but that discipline was different for boys than
for girls. I asked him what difference there was but he told me my
headmaster would explain that to me on my first schoolday, next monday.
(It was thirsday at the moment). After the little tour we went home
and we went into his study. There he told me about the rules in the
house, which were practically the same as in every other household,
plus religious rules like no swearing, always pray before dinner,
always pray before bad, going to church every sunday and confessing
to the local priest everytime I'd been naughty. "That brings us
to the point of discipline" father said. "I should warn you, Robin,
that everytime you are a bad boy, even the small things, will result
in corporal punisment. These punishments can vary from a sigle swat
on the seat of your pants to a belting on your bare bottom and back.
Don't worry, that last punishment is only for the really bad things
boys do. I'm not going to tell you to stay out of trouble for the
rest of your stay here, because my hands should to the trick when
you are naughty." I was shocked by this speech, but he also ensured
me that my stay here would be a loved one. He and mother would take
good care of me for my whole stay here, and he was sure that my brother
and sisters would do so to. He did say some last words on the corporal
punishment-issue. He told me that I should listen to both my parents,
but also to my older sisters because they were older, and even to
my little brother when there is no one else around, because he has
been here longer than I had been. I could live with these terms,
because Pete was only one year younger than me, but I was kind of
frightened by the idea that they could also punish me when father
and mother weren't around. The rest of the day I got more aquainted
with my surroundings, and was even introduced to a little corporal
punishment: mother gave mary a swat on her bottom because she was
home late from her visit to the local swimming pool. But I had seen
this before at my previous homes, where my brothers and sisters ocassionally
were swatted or smacked in my presence. Later that thay I would
find out from my brother and sisters that mary and pete were biologically
family from eachother. Their parents had died in a plain crash, and
they were placed in this home. They didn't have a trauma or something,
they were too much used to their new surroundings (it had been 4 years
since the crash). Sandra had been living there for about 4 years too,
but she came from the other side of the country when her mother died
of cancer. As I noticed they had been here together for a long time,
I felt it was only fair that they were in charge of me. I was a rooky,
never had any discipline and I didn't have any religious experience.
Fotunately they weren't very fond of going to church either. That's
at least one thing we had in common. To be continued...
More stories by Chevy Checker