I KNOW WHAT WAS GOOD FOR ME

Many years ago, in the world of 1950 Brooklyn, as I emerged from my world of babyhood and entered my cognitive world of childhood, I recall some of the conversations I had with my mother, who always had advice for me.

“If you know what’s good for you…

            you will listen to me

            you will eat your dinner

            you will clean up that mess

            you will clean your room

            you will do your homework.”

There were other admonishments and she could cajole me with the mighty pine (her wooden spoon) and often use that method for appeasing her patience by swiping it across my head for such things as:

           

            misbehaving in church

            misbehaving in school

            using some unacceptable words in English

            using some unacceptable words in Italian

            torturing my younger sisters

            retaliating against my older (much older) sister

Since 2006, March to be exact, I have been writing about mom and her discipline, her ability to tame my wildness, putting down rebellion and defiance with a common denominator: a well placed use of the pine.

There was never room for negotiations, never a time to plead a case and successfully win it, never a moment where the child won.

Recently on the Internet and in real life, I see kids walking over their parents, misbehaving and acting defiant, refusing to even be quiet. In my day corporal punishment was the norm, sometimes you even got it from an aunt or uncle if it was bad enough. Today-the kids would probably hire a lawyer, then after suing the parents, would get the court to make the parents pay for the cost!

I for one am grateful the methods employed by mom and dad used. They worked hand in hand with the expectations of the school (parochial), family traditions and pride, and taught me that I had to be doing things in the best way only, or face the consequences.

As I got a little older, I started to see the daily lessons sink in, no longer fearing the pine, but the wooden face of disappointment I might leave on their faces if I screwed up, cried or pouted, lost my way or failed.