This BLOG centers primarily around my opinions and personal experiences . . . all of which are TRUE and un-embellished – so, when I saw the incident of the Black Female Student being dragged out of the classroom by the White Police Officer, it got me thinking . . .
Some 60-Years ago, while in either grade one or grade two, I went to school in a two story old fashioned brick and mortar building, that was heated by a boiler in the basement and radiators in the class rooms, the halls, and the auditorium.
The image and story of this Black Girl being physically DRAGGED and handcuffed from class, made me think way back, and in a strange way, brought out some nostalgic and very pleasant memories – but they weren’t all pleasant then . . . STRANGE UH?
I could see the hardwood flooring, stairs, and railings. I could smell the steam heat off the radiators. And I could literally hear the words of our teachers, whose first names were never to be spoken.
To us . . . Our teachers were either – Mr, Mrs, Miss, Sir, and on the rare of occasions Mam, since Mam wasn’t a term often used in Canada.
When our teachers or any ADULT entered the room, we all stood, and didn’t sit until we were told to. And we never spoke in class, and always stood when asked to speak.
For lunch, we would eat what our mothers prepared for us, very often Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches. But we also ate chopped-egg, hard-boiled egg, chicken, and whatever else that was left over from supper.
And during lunch, in the schoolyard, we would play really hard, playing DODGE BALL to bean each other, or RED ROVER, trying hard to tackle the person who was called to come over. And we played lots of TAG.
And occasionally, there were pushing matches and fistfights. BOYS WOULD BE BOYS.
And in the Canadian Winter, when the temperatures fell well below freezing, very often made worse with driving wind-blown snow and sleet, we bundled-up, went outside, and did the same stuff.
One day, a friend of mine (Patrick Gary), and I were WALKING FAST in the auditorium during recess, where there was a NO RUNNING RULE anywhere inside the school. Both of us were hauled in front of the Principal for RUNNING, which was debatable, since, as far as we were concerned we were not running. But that was irrelevant.
My friend, who was used to getting in trouble, took it like a MAN. Me on the other hand, I cried like a baby, laid on the floor and wouldn’t give the Principal my hand, not because I was afraid of the pain . . . BUT BECAUSE I WAS TERRIFIED OF WHAT MY MOTHER WOULD DO AND SAY.
So . . . the somewhat elderly Lady Principle (Mrs Taibrith), with the very gray hair, in her wooden office with the warm and comforting steam coming from her radiator took pity on me, and instead of giving me several hard blows, she literally touched the STRAP to my hand just once.
From her office, I met my friend Patrick Garry who was waiting for me, who took several hard whacks, whose hands were red, but smirked nonetheless; from where we walked back to class. So, I COW-BOYED-UP some, wiped my eyes so I wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of the class who knew of my CORPORAL punishment, and took to my desk, from where I couldn’t help myself, and put my arms on the desk-top, buried my face into my arms, and sobbed uncontrollably.
THE ONLY GOOD SIDE TO THIS . . . was that I inspired Gary to cry too, so at least I wasn’t alone in being a sissy.
WHEN I GOT HOME . . . I cried some more, in the telling of this to my mother:
1 – My Mother read me the RIOT ACT, telling me that I deserved what I got, because the rules were the rules, and FAST WALKING was no less than giving my finger to the teachers.
2 – My Mother than went to the school, and had a meeting with the Teacher and the Principal, where she said in no uncertain terms, that if I were to act-up again, they were to call her, and she would provide whatever discipline that would be appropriate.
AND THEN MY MOTHER CONCLUDED WITH . . . if any adult in this school was ever to lay a hand on either of her children; my Mother would personally beat the hell out of the person responsible. AND SHE MEANT IT.
1 – Teachers have lost control of respect from their students.
2 – Students don’t necessarily say Mr, Sir, Miss, Mrs, or Mam when addressing a teacher.
3 – Forget about students standing when an adult walks into the room.
4 – Forget about Parents who raise their kids RIGHT and RESPECTFUL.
5 – Students know their RIGHTS, just like thugs know their RIGHTS on the streets, and are without fear or shame.
1 – Give the cop a medal. INSTEAD HE WAS FIRED.
2 – Arrest and fine the girl with all the disrespect and serious ATTITUDE.
3 – EXPEL HER FROM SCHOOL PERMANENTLY – and make it known, that there will be ZERO tolerance using whatever tactics, physical or otherwise, that are needed to win-back the classroom, which is where the VALUES OF SOCIETY ARE CREATED AND NURTURED.
I loved my MOTHER before she read me the RIOT ACT. And LOVED her far more after she went to bat-for me against the Teacher and Principal.
My Mother and Father taught my sisters and myself all about VALUES and CONSEQUENCES, which is something that is sorely lacking in today’s world, where the media (radio, music, movies, the internet, sports) teaches a VILE MESSAGE.
So . . . if parents won’t teach VALUES and RESPECT, especially single parent families, particularly in the BLACK Community with the HIGHEST Teenage Pregnancy Rate in America, don’t CRAP on the teachers and police when options are virtually non-existent.
SO AS IT STANDS NOW – THE COP HAS BEEN FIRED . . . so who in their right mind will be willing to deliver discipline, when a student acts out, and needs to be taken out?
PS – If you really want to see what our TEACHERS and COPS are up against, it’s not magic. Simply go to YouTube, and type GIRLS STREET FIGHTING, and be prepared to understand what our Teachers and Police have to deal with?
Best Regards . . . Howard Galganov