To add further weight to his counsel, he reminded me that the boy had a glass eye. He did not forbid me to carry out the punishment, though it was clear that this was not his way of dealing with such matters. During this period of contemplation, word of this boy’s impending paddling reached his father, my principal. I usually allowed the wayward student to ponder his punishment for a few minutes, before I carried it out. What made it even more interesting was the conversation I had with the lad’s father, just before corporal punishment was meted out in the hallway. I honestly don’t remember the offense, but it took place on my watch, probably on the playground or around the buses at the close of school. ![]() He was a fifth grade student, and perhaps more significantly, he was the son of the school principal. “Baldwin” wasn’t even one of my students. ![]() I was a sixth grade teacher in those days, and I was known for using a paddle when needed. ![]() The “crack” was the sound of my paddle, which I had tucked away in my closet except for a few occasions like this one. Shortly thereafter, I heard one student yell to another, “They got Baldwin!” Actually, it wasn’t “they,” who got Baldwin it was me. A very audible “crack” echoed down the school hallway.
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