Prelude
The following story contains a mostly true-life experience from my junior high days in Texas in the early 70's. I have taken dramatic license to include myself as the recipient of the corporal punishment with William. (It's my story and if I want a whipping I can get a whipping....so there!) If the whole truth were told I was one of the students standing outside listening to the muffled sounds of the paddle rhythmically striking William. I remember trying to talk to him as he walked out of the office, but he ducked his head and walked rapidly away. William's and my second paddling did not occur, but the rest of the story is true.
Some to the names have changed, not to protect the innocent, but simply because I suffer from CRS decease and I can't remember anybody's name.
I only got one pop in my entire junior high career and it was kind of anti-climatic and not worth mentioning.
Introduction
My name is Woody and I grew up in Texas in the 60's and 70's. The school system at the time had grades 1 to 6 in elementary school, 7 to 9 in junior high, and 10 to 12 in high school. When I was in elementary school if you misbehaved enough you were sent to see the principal. She would send a paddling slip home to get your parents to sign so that you could be paddled if your behavior did not improve. I do not remember anybody actually getting paddled; I guess the threat was sufficient to get the desired results.
Junior high was a different story. By the time we were in sixth grade the older kids let us know that the teachers and coaches carried paddles and used them, no paddling slip needed. It was scary enough to move of to a new school, but a school with teachers who could whip you was even worse. Top that all off with the fact that the school I was going to attend was going to be house both the junior and senior high school until a new high school was built.
When I finally started junior high school I felt like an ant among the giant high school students. I wasn't at the school very long when I say my first signs of corporal punishment. Most every male teacher had a paddle on his desk or hanging on the wall. The paddle's were all wooden, about 3" wide, ¾" think, and 24" long. Most of them had tape wrapped around the handle.
Though no official corporal punishment rules were ever given to us they were known by word of mouth. Male teachers and coaches gave their own "pops"; female teachers would send students to the assistant principle for pops. Female students could get pops, but very seldom did. Minor offense, like talking in class, and running in the halls would earn you one pop. More serious offenses like fighting or cussing got you two pops. Repeat offenders and even more serious offenses could earn you up to five pops, the most you could get in one day.
During the first six weeks of school I did not see anyone getting pops. I heard talk of it, particularly in the shop classes where they held the "Board of Education" on every Friday. I was taking band and was not in shop. By this time in my life I already had serious signs of being a "spanko." I did not join into any of the conversation about students getting pops because the talk stirred strange feelings in me.
One of the problems with having both junior and senior high in one building is that it caused a scheduling nightmare. My schedule included 6th period gym. 6th period was the last class of the day and was reserved for athletics. My coach for gym was Coach Plumber, but he was busy with football and baseball. Our class was assigned Scott, a high school senior, as our teaching assistant. We were told to treat him just like one of our other teachers.
Scott's job in the class was to take roll each day and to organize our games. On good weather days we usually played softball out on the north side of the school. It was about a block from the back of the school. We would meet for roll call on the basketball courts and then walk as a class to the softball field. On bad weather days we would play inside the gym.
A few weeks into school, Jim, one of my classmates, got into a fistfight with a student in another class. Scott broke the fight up and brought the two battlers inside to the coach's office. Everyone knew that Jim was going to get pops. After class we returned to the locker room to take showers and change into our street clothes. My locker was down the same row as Jim's, He returned to his locker as I was getting dressed. Someone asked him what happened.
"I got two pops."
"Wow, had bad did in hurt?"
"Not too bad, just kinda stung...."
"Oh, man, it must have hurt. Your butt is really red."
I had been looking into my locker, hoping that no one would notice that the talk excited me. I glanced to my side and saw Jim's butt. There were two distinct overlapping red marks on the crease between his butt and the upper thighs. You could distinctly see the shape of the head of the paddle. Jim turned to walk past me to the shower. I quickly looked into my locker again and felt myself blush. Puberty was treating me strangely.
A few weeks later I got to actually witness someone getting pops. Report cards had come out. At the time there were no "No Pass No Play" rules in school. We did have a "No Pass No Sit" rule for the high school student athletes. They had to show the coach their report card and they got one pop for each D and two pops for each F. On report card day I overheard several big high school kids discussing how many pop they were going to get. Most were not getting any, but several had more than one pop coming. After dressing out they all went into the gym to meet their fate. I'm not sure how I swung it, but I made my way into the gym for a few minutes. The athletes were lined up to see the coach. I saw one teenager give a coach his report card. The coach was holding the paddle in his hand. He said something and the teenager turned around and bent over, placing his hands on his knees. The coach stepped up next to him and aimed the paddle at his bottom. He pulled the paddle back and..
POP
The sound echoed in the tall caverns of the gym.
POP
The teenager rocked forward, but stayed right where he was.
POP
The teenager jumped up and grabbed his seat. He danced around a little and then picked up his report card and walked off.
I was mesmerized. I had very strange feelings that I did not understand. I finally brought myself back to reality and left the gym. I was afraid that someone would notice me staring.