ShareThis“Foolishness is bound in the hearts of children; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from them.”
-Proverbs. 22:15-
REPORT CARD DAY!
“Line up, single file, clothes off, report cards open, move your a**es!” It was Report Card day November 1959. Our small family of four (Mom, my two brothers, and I) lived in the heart of the Englewood neighborhood on Chicago’s south side. Englewood then was a microcosm of all that’s bad in black America now. ‘Momma Rose’ our elderly landlady, owned our three storey brick walk up on 65th and Normal. My family stayed on the 3rd floor with a window that overlooked the alley where eight teen girls were gang raped one hot prom night a year earlier. Mr. ‘S’ and his family lived below us. He had the largest pornographic book collection I’ve ever seen! Our landlady lived on the 1st floor and a young woman who almost bled to death from a do-it-yourself abortion lived in the basement.
My mother was a short woman. She wore short her hair flaming red and didn’t take BS from any man, woman, or child. Mom was all business. That cold blistery report card day was her version of the Last Judgment. At the end of each term she’d line us up single file, buck naked. She’d sit cross-legged on the toilet seat (lid down) like a proud Egyptian queen. Holding a wet electric extension cord in one hand she’d examine our report cards with her other hand. Each ‘F’ grade was met with a sharp stinging swat or two from the wet cord that would bite into our exposed skins like a hot knife through warm butter. As I remember she said this was her version of the Mexican Hat Dance and dance we did!
In the post World War II era the term child abuse was largely unknown. When it came to our education Mom’s motto was “If you don’t learn nothin’ in that school I’ll kill ya!” Heaven help us if we dared turn up failing grades. When angered, she was fond of saying “Leave you heart to GOD and your a** to me!” I should know. I was a regular recipient of her special treatment that always came at the receiving end of a long switch, razor strap, or wet extension cord. A born rebel, I was always in trouble at school or in the neighborhood. My body used to glisten from dark greenish red welts I’d receive from whatever instrument of pain she employed when mad at me.
When we got older we moved to the ‘Projects’ (Robert R. Taylor). Once there, my younger brother stole a Snickers candy bar from a local supermarket. The store manager caught him in the act detained him until the police arrived. An officer brought him home. Mom went ballistic! She snatched him from the officer, threw him on the ground, grabbed a belt, and whipped him good! The poor man, in his 60’s, is still traumatized from Mom’s beating. Since then I don’t think he’s even received as much as a serious traffic citation.
When it comes to parental discipline black-Creole women prefer to ‘chestize’ (chastise harshly) their children to save them from the racist, insensitive and overburdened American criminal justice system. ‘Mother Dorothy’ raised all three (a fourth son died in infancy) of us on her own. Our step-dad was in and out of prison and our two other biological fathers were busy making babies with other women.
Democracy wasn’t an option in our family. Times were tough, the environment toxic, and racism rampant. Mom did what she had to do to get the job done. As a result of her harsh parenting we’re now well paid professionals, politically active, and practicing Catholic-Christians. Our adult children hold university degrees, make great money, and attend Mass. Our grandchildren are on school Honor Rolls. Mom was a master at what she did. If we had more like her, serious crime in America would soon fade into obscurity.
What’s considered child abuse today were standard disciplinary practices a generation ago for many American families regardless of race and ethnicity. The methods used ‘back in the day’ if employed now would land a lot of parents in jail, anger management classes, family therapy, or verbally attacked on liberal talk shows. Asian-American parents raise scholars. African-American parents raise warriors.
TIGER MOM
Dr. Amy Chua-Rubenfeld (‘Tiger Mom’) the controversial Yale University law professor/author’s child rearing methods strike many Americans as abusive. Yelling, threatening to trash their toys, and name-calling is a bit harsh. Oddly enough Professor Chua’s methods aren’t unique. The priest who presided at my first marriage is German. At a social gathering he said when he was an infant his mother would bundle him up, position him outside in cold weather and leave him there for a few minutes to ‘toughen him up.’
Back home I saw a road sign in Quezon City advising parents that when they beat their children to make sure that the beatings were deserved. That sign cautioned parents against crossing the line from discipline to abuse. Chua’s method of parenting isn’t that big of a deal in other cultures. It worked in our home.
FIL-AM PARENTING
From my observations Filipino-American children are well behaved at home and in public. Unlike many whites and black homes where kids run amok under the guise of ‘individual freedom,’ Filipinos believe that young children should be just that-children, though their playful worlds end at school age. As with the Chua family, academic excellence and good behavior are expected from Filipino-American children.
Most Asian youngsters are loved and they study well. Their parents take a tough love stance in preparing them to weather life’s future storms. As a retired teacher, I never had any Fil-Am parents storm my classroom to ‘punch me out’ though on occasions I’ve had a few black parents ‘swing’ at me at teacher-parent conferences.
LET THERE BE LOVE
Most parents love their children and want the best for them. Corporal punishment is a legitimate form of discipline. Child abuse results when parents exceed the bonds of proper physical punishment. In this writer’s opinion strict parenting is a definite plus in today’s permissive society. Which ever methods parents choose must be tempered by love, the primary ‘ingredient’ in all relationships or else its all for naught. Reader that’s it’s. In our next edition we’ll examine Lenten spirituality; till then GOD bless you.
(vamaxwell@yahoo.com)