Break It Down!, A Rude Awakening, Dumb Dumb Dumb Dumb Dumb!, & Why Paddling Must Stop! Dear readers: Jestin and I hope everyone had an amazing Independence Day Weekend! Break It Down! Last month with the help of Jestin Samson, my internet buddy, we set up a weblog entitled Teachers Who Paddle EXPOSED. The sole purpose of the weblog is to give an alternate opinion to the weblog Teachers who paddle. The name for the weblog is accredited to Jestin. Jestin is the director of a very dynamic group called Safepass—Student A lliance For Education in Peaceful American Schools. He is a college student at California State University, Fullerton. After he graduates, he hopes to attend law school wherever he can get accepted. As he tells me—“Don't think I'm just planning to stay instate, I'm also considering going out of state. For a culture experience some of these schools are in the south. This includes Vanderbilt, North Carolina, Texas, and Alabama (Sorry fake Wendy and fake Jenny).” He adds to his resume: “I'm a public speaker in my spare time. I work for the disability Awareness Foundation. I am also a concerned American citizen who wants this primitive way of handling students to be brought to an end.” And he also informs me— “I'm single and ready to mingle.” A Rude Awakening Last week that group of teachers/fetishist or a combination of the two found our website. I knew they would at due time. They said derogatory things about me. I knew they would. They hate with a passion anyone who holds a different opinion than them on corporal punishment in schools. I guess you hate most of America. All the polls I’ve seen show most Americans oppose corporal punishment in schools. At least sixty percent of the population is against it. It could be seventy percent just depends on how you interpret it. In fact according to an ABC poll conducted in 2005, although a majority of Americans agree with spanking in the home, seventy-two percent of people polled disagree with corporal punishment in schools. The south, where paddling has its main support is still dwarfed by the disapproval of its use. Thirty-five percent of southerners support the practice with the number falling to nineteen percent in the Midwest, and finally falling again to thirteen percent to the west and east respectively. What Teachers Who Paddle said is below.
A “REV.” EXPOSED
Dear Readers: It has come to the attention of this blog that an anti- c.p. zealot, who calls himself “Rev. Wade Ditty”, has entered the wordpress community with a blog of his own. Hey, we at TWP have no problem with the right of free speech. But we also believe in honesty and “truth in labeling”. The “Rev.” does neither.
Honesty: The so-called “Rev. Wade Ditty” wrote to us FIRST and claimed to be a “man of the cloth” who was opposed to corporal punishment. TWP believes in fair debate and had some back and forth with Rev. Ditty. (As our policy, we kept the last name confidential until this post.) But his comments about “pretty teen girls” and “sexy bottoms” made us wonder about this guy. In the “Prom Dress/Oxford” episode, the Rev.’s comments about “paddle swats on prom dresses” which came from Spoofnews.com confirmed to TWP that Ditty was a dud.
A FAKE!
And he calls US “creepy”? Question: What kind of “man of the cloth” obsesses about the rear ends of teenage girls? Rev., we at TWP think YOU are the definition of “CREEPY”!
Truth In Labeling: Mr. Ditty, you have the right to say whatever you wish but stop calling yourself a pastor. All four of us are of the Christian faith and have the up most respect for all those who work in the ministry. Mr. Ditty, stop calling yourself a “Rev.” because, judging by your own written words -You are NO “Rev.”
A friend of ours reworked the spelling of “Wade Ditty” and came up with “Dead Witty”.
Editor’s Extra: Hey Mr. Ditty, we see you’ve been exercising ( and abusing) your freedom of speech with your callous “award” to sweet Michelle. Well, we at TWP have broken with routine and hereby award “Rev. Wade Ditty/Dead Witty the PERVERTED PASTOR AWARD for reasons given above. You REALLY earned it too! With it, you get a travel package to visit all the REAL victims of sexual abuse around the world. Who knows, maybe you might come to an understanding about what REAL abuse really is.
One of the remarks they made was about not putting my full name on their creepy weblog. From the very beginning I sent them my name and my email address. I made no bones about it. The only thing is that if my name appears on their log, I want people to know I don’t agree with them. They acted like they were doing me a favor by not putting my full name on their site as though I was afraid. Fake Wendy, fake Renee, fake Jenny and fake Michelle, I’ve already told you I’m not afraid of you, and I’m certainly not afraid of your readers. I dare anybody try to hurt me physically over this issue. They try to evade the issue by calling me fake, a phony. There is nothing fake about what we are attempting to do by exposing this primitive group. They say they are women of faith. They question my faith, my status as pastor for the last twenty five years. I see potential perverted behavior and I point it out. T hey don’t like it. They could use a little less crude language. Also, if you call yourselves, “Women of God,” Let me point you to a passage in the Holy Book in which you have insulted Jesus
At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them, and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me; but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, [Greek causes … to stumble] it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened round his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea, (Matthew 18:1-6 Revised Standard Version)
Obviously, paddling children causes them to have increased aggression (that’s a sin), wanting to get even with the paddler (that’s a sin), chronic depression which can lead to suicidal tendencies (The Bible says to be joyful), and a host of other ills. Also, why would you take what Jesus calls, “The greatest,” in his kingdom and beat them. So, it looks like there is nothing left to do, but to get that millstone and get yourselves ready to get wet.
There are large volumes of clergy who would agree with me in trying to outlaw corporal punishment. The Presbyterian Church (USA), The Evangelical Lutheran Church, The Roman Catholic Church, The American Baptist Church, The United Methodist Church, The United Church of Christ, the Episcopal Church, and the Reformed Church of America, most clergy in these churches would stand with me in opposing corporal punishment in schools. One other thing I can’t let go is the nasty name they called me, “PERVERTED PASTOR.” They said first that I’m not a pastor, now they are saying I’m a perverted one. What is it? Interesting—the only person who could determine if I’m perverted is my wife. August 29th of this year we will celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary. I’m very much in love with her. We were married on a hot summer day in 1980 in Mobile, Alabama. I’m trying to save up some money so I can get her a nice gift for the special occasion. We have four children ranging in age from twenty six to eighteen. My oldest child is severely autistic. My wife of almost thirty years could point out to you all my flaws, but I don’t think she would say being perverted is one of them. If you want to talk about perverted, then you can start by looking at yourselves in the mirror. The creepy paddling stories with the gory descriptions you give can and I personally think have attracted an audience who are not interested in school discipline, such as those with spanking fetishes. Surprisingly, two posts ago, we clearly exposed the website you are connected to previously as a website popular among those with child-spanking fetishist. It’s also a telling that you have to buy paddles at S.M fetish stores. If you want to talk about perverted, then your blog is a good place to start and stop feeding the slippery stuff that fuels your perverted audience. Fake Renee is always defending fake Michelle as being sweet and kind. How am I to know she is sweet and kind? Teachers who paddle hide behind their computers, using fake names. You can be anything you want online. It’s like Brad Paisley says, “I’m much cooler on line.” Just like Teachers Who Paddle, we are going to put up a new post every week. We want to come up with a name for these women. These women call us anti-cp radical zealots. In biblical times a, “Zealot,” was someone who radically opposed the Roman Empire. Today a more proper definition is a, “passionate, militant proponent of something." Jestin and I have thrown out a few names for these women: Hitler’s girls, school terrorists, and playground bullies with a paddle. I have the perfect name pro-cp radical zealots. I want to be on the anti-end of it. When I meet my maker, I want to fully confess I did all I could to keep children from being hit at school by a teacher. The prince of peace opposes corporal punishment in schools. Finally, tell me about dishonest! On our weblog, we allow everyone to speak their mind, even Teachers Who Paddle. On their website, they tailor everything to fit their primitive ideas. Teachers who paddle is known to take things out of context and using dishonest tactics to please the masses and have their primitive views palatable. Dumb Dumb Dumb Dumb Dumb! Last week we gave Teachers Who Paddle awards to celebrate their accomplishments as dishonest spank happy teachers. In connection with The Dumb Award, here’s fake Wendy’s story that clearly shows why corporal punishment must stop. For this post, I won’t say much because I feel the post speaks for itself, but look at the end for my commentary.
Dear Readers:We at TWP are probably goin to catch HELL for this post -but, with Wendy’s blessings, we are going to give a side of Wendy that shocked all of us. Wendy is a quiet type who is as friendly and caring as Michelle, Jenny, and myself. A few commentators have unfairly labeled Wendy as the “mean one”,”hardest paddler”, and “most hot-tempered.” TWP believes that all of this stemmed from our post WENDY’S (?) WORST PADDLING -but these assumptions are way off. Rather, just like the rest of us, Wendy hates using the paddle and as she puts it: “5TH graders are too old to be paddled and need to grow up!” In Wendy’s post, she tried repeatedly to get out of using the paddle but only got lies in return. In that case, the other contributors of TWP would have done no differently than Wendy.
(So, do you agree with paddling preteens or not, there is no middle ground. Thank you for demonstrating why paddling is ineffective, it causes children to be sneeky about their behavior in order not to get hit and hurt. This reminds me of a story that Dr. Irwin Hyman said in a movie. “If you hit Johny, your brother, I’m going to beat you, I’m going to whoop you. So, the message is not to hit Johny.” Think about it, what’s stopping this boy from hitting Johny? Is it the fact that the parent is bigger and stronger and he will show the child how it’s done because he is bigger an stronger. Or is it the fact that the parent wants the child to fear the pain when the parent finds out because the parent will be, “The pain giver.” . Obviously, if this child wants to hit Johny he can’t get caught. If he can get away of getting hit and hurt himself, then he can misbehave without anyone noticing. This is called external control. Unfortunately, it doesn’t internalize the discipline why hitting is not okay, ssame thing about lying. When did your husband spanked you last for lying about buying something?)
WENDY’S MISTAKE
(Should have been called Wendy’s life destroying experience.)
The first part of this saga is second hand info since I (Renee) was not present. It started at a morning recess for the 5th graders in which Wendy and Max, our other 5th grade (and only male) teacher, were monitoring while sitting on the steps that lead into the classroom wing of our school. A student, Shad – who is a loner and keeps to himself -was doing some art work on a paved walkway at the far end of the playground area. He had the school’s permission because colored chalk was being used that washes away when it rains. Every teacher, including Wendy, knew about this “approved art” -so it was never an issue. But some other “art” on the brick wall only a stone’s throw behind Shad WAS an issue -A VERY BIG ISSUE!
I was told later that one of a few of our black students came up to Wendy and Max complaining, “Shad put something ‘bad’ on the side of the building!” The student admitted that he did not “see” Shad do it but asked Wendy and Max to look -which they did.
What Wendy and Max saw -around the corner from where Shad was working on his sidewalk art -was something none of us ever expected to see: A black grafetti hand-written proclamation stating “KKK 4EVER!” Both Wendy and Max were horrified and asked Shad about it. Shad denied any responsibility but Max checked the black chalk and compared it to the markings -they matched as to color and Max later told me the markings looked “chalky” to him.
That’s when Wendy “blew her stack” and hustled Shad inside after telling Max, “Shad is MY student and I will handle this!”
(So let me get this straight, Wendy blows her stack over hearsay and although the student denies the charges, Wendy wanted to show she was judge jury and executioner, like some tough guy. Our courts don’t even treat prisoners this way. Have you ever heard, “Innocent until proven guilty?” This could have stopped right there because Wendy had no evidence to incriminate him with, so she could have given him the benefit of the doubt, but she clearly shows how much she wants to, “Pop that bubble.” Also, what happened to, “The last resort?”)
Since Jenny was in the middle of a science demo and Michelle’s class was at the library at the other end of the building, I was the one who was called on to be a possible “witness.” (This was only a week or so after the paddling referred to in WENDY’S WORST(?) PADDLING). I could tell she was steamed and she already had her “TAKE ALONG” paddle tucked under her right arm. After telling me what happened, I was aghast and felt this was SERIOUS! But despite our repeated questioning, Shad would not admit to it.
(You could have stopped there too, but here you go, playing tough guy.)
Finally, Wendy gave an ultimatum: “Confess to us and just get a paddling or take your chances with Mr. Smith, the principal -And risk certain suspension and likely placement in the alternate school for the rest of the year!”
Shad continued to protest his innocence but must have feared being the youngest student in a school set up for older students who repeatedly start fights in school. Wendy was ready to just haul Shad to the office when he finally ‘fessed up saying,”O.k., I did it…Please don’t take me to the office!”
(That was a nice trick, that’s how police interrogate suspects and we all know most of those confessions get thrown out of court. I guess Wendy can be considered a spank happy teacher. It makes me wonder if she has a fetish or not, but here you go folks, what happens between a quarter of a million times and one and a half million times in a United States school with the aid of your tax dollars.)
“Alright then, Shad…We will handle this apart from Mr. Smith…But this paddling is one you will not forget!” Wendy proclaimed. “The VERY IDEA of putting a racist message on the outside wall of YOUR school…” Wendy muttered as we entered the conference room where paddlings are given behind closed doors.
(What a great message, violence is sometimes acceptable. It sometimes makes me wonder if they knew how to speak English.)
While just the three of us were in the room, a three month pregnant Wendy took charge and insisted on doing the honors because she considered Shad “her” student. If anyone thinks a pissed off pregnant teacher cannot swing the timber -think again! She gave five of the hardest swats I’ve ever witnessed -and I had to keep her from swinging at a wider angle than 90 degrees! I’ve heard that 5th graders do not tend to cry when paddled but this was definitely an exception. But even through his tears, Shad then stated, as he walked back to the classroom,”I did not do it!”
(This reminds me of a true life story that happened when I was in elementary school during my time. This time, paddling was much more common. We had two Davids in our class. One of which was going to be paddled. The teacher took one of the Davids outside where the Principal was waiting. During this time that David was pleading they got the wrong David and right after the paddling, it turned out they got the wrong David. The principal told him, “Next time you get into trouble, I won’t paddle you and we’ll be even. It makes me wonder if the score was even or not. Let’s see if there is a repeat here.)
Wendy and I considered that pathological but let it go because the punishment was done and over with. The discipline report simply stated “playground misconduct” and we left a note on the janitor’s closet door about the wall markings.
Strangely, he was nowhere to be seen! That really was strange since he had a reputation for being a wanna-be teacher whom everyone loved and respected. Ol’ Clyde, as we all call him, is a black Korean War veteran who retired the year I was hired but came back because, “If I just sit at home, I’ll die of boredom!” Well, Clyde was more than just a school “fixture” -He was the school before the old building we now use was even built! But he was “out on errands” as Wendy and I found out later when lunchtime began.
Popping in the teacher’s lounge where all of us lady teachers were watching our favorite daytime drama while eating lunch (Poor Max is always out-voted -but hey -Life is unfair and someone has to watch the cafeteria with Mr. Smith!) Scratching his head as he looked at our note, Clyde asked,” What did you give me this note for, Renee?…I already knew about the markings early this morning when I unlocked the school doors…I saw them when I walked around back…”
That meant two things: First, Shad didn’t do it because he rode the bus and never had the opportunity apart from recess! Second, Mr. Smith never mentioned the markings at our early morning staff meeting. Suddenly I lost my appetite and Wendy looked like she had a bad case of food poisoning.
“Uh, Clyde…Where were you this morning?” I asked.
“At the hardware store…Trying to find something that will remove the black ink markings without ruining the exterior brick’s color…And I found ‘it’ and…NO MORE ‘KKK’ AROUND HERE!” Clyde declared in triumph.
I only wish Wendy hadn’t been there because I seriously thought she might have a breakdown right then and there…and lose her baby!
Patting her knee as I sat next to her, I calmly said to a trembling young lady,”Easy now, Wendy…Calm down and take a deep breath…Don’t fall apart on me…and remember… YOUR baby!”
(No one else knew or understood what this situation was really about.)
Wendy then got up and made a beeline for the door to the cafeteria but I managed to intercept her and steered her to the conference room down the hall. Wendy already had tears streaming down her face but agreed murmuring,” I have to see…”
“I know…I’ll bring Shad and have a substitute called to spot for you this afternoon…Because you are in no condition to teach right now.” I then had a wobbly Wendy sit down while I went back to find Shad in the cafeteria.
I half dragged a quiet and sullen Shad back to meet Wendy, explaining what happened and imploring, “It was a mistake, Shad…and Wendy -knowing her as well as I do -will spend the rest of her life if necessary trying to make it up to you…Just keep in mind…She is also carrying a baby inside …and in her present condition…”
“It’s o.k., I understand…I don’t hate HER -just what she did!” Shad replied, to my relief.
When Shad stepped inside, what happened next was such a departure for Wendy that I will never forget it as long as I live!
Wendy literally dropped to the floor on her knees and wrapped her arms around Shad’s waist and sobbed, “I’m sooo sorry, Shad…Please…forgive…me!”
I then worried that if she did not pull herself together , we might have a miscarriage right then.
Patting Wendy on the back, I encouraged her to take deep breaths and calm down. Then I helped Wendy up so she could sit back down in the chair.
A wide-eyed Shad then spoke,”Wendy, I hated what you did but now that you said ‘I am sorry,’ I forgive you!” and then embraced Wendy who could only cry softly as she repeated, “I was wrong…I am so sorry…”
As lunchtime ended, I was so thankful that in our small 200 +/- school, nearly all the grade levels had lunch within a 55 minute period. Who knows what might of happened if Wendy had found out while my class and I were back in our room? I sent Shad back to his classroom with the librarian who spotted until the substitute teacher arrived. As to Wendy, she was o.k. but I encouraged her to take the last couple of days that week off -which she did. Before getting in the car when James picked her up, Wendy asked me to trash that paddle saying, “Renee, I don’t ever want to see that thing ever again!” Of course, I obliged and removed the paddle from her room.
Understand, as Jenny, Michelle, and I dropped by Wendy’s home afterschool, Wendy told us, “I’m not turning into a P.T.A.V.E. fanatic but…I just don’t want to use the paddle anymore…at least for now…And in two more months, I’ll start my maternity leave when Christmas Break starts!” We all “High-fived” Wendy on that and left our young marrieds to themselves. (If you could only see the future baby’s room -decked out in Auburn Blue and Orange wallpaper, bed sheets, and carpet -Wanna bet where that child is going to college?)
When Wendy came back at the start of the new week, there was one other change: Despite his protests, Shad was reassigned to Max’s classroom because we all felt it was in the best interest of Wendy and Shad. For Wendy because of the probability that she would be too permissive on classroom discipline with Shad. For Shad because we all understood that the “feelings” he might have for Wendy would be a problem for both -but especially for Shad’s education.
But those two saw each other at recess time. I’ve been told that the sight of Wendy sitting down near Shad to “model for art” was a sight to behold. With a growing midsection, the idea of Wendy trying to ackwardly sit and get up off the walkway would have been heart-warming and hilarious at the same time. I only wished that someone had taken a picture of Shad’s portrayal of Wendy -It was GOOD -but a rainstorm messed it up.
As to the paddling, Wendy told me that Shad said, “My butt was sore but no serious damage!” It will always “Hurt” Wendy inside but she is just glad Shad has no hard feelings towards her-Hey, those two will probably be friends for life!
Alls well that ends well!
(Teachers Who Paddle, I have to say it was a wonderful act you put on. I probably think Wendy is sorry, but saying, “All is well that ends well,” is just so far from the truth. You probably cause so much psychological damage that it’s just mind boggling. I’ve met people who are in their seventy’s and eighty’s who still remember a paddling from their elementary years. In fact after a speech Paula Flowe had, she told me she made a eighty year old man break into tears because it reminded him about a paddling he got in the 1st grade. He never got over it. In Mississippi, I met someone who dropped out of high school, why? He couldn’t take the pain of being paddling on an almost daily basis. “I can’t take it no more,” were his words to me. As for being a PTAVE fanatic, I would rather you become one because you wouldn’t be abusing your students under the vial of discipline. It makes me think and makes my stomach turn that you are out their somewhere swinging away. Here’s what was posted the very next week that I found a little flattering.)
MEMO TO “Kevin”: Thank you for the kind words. You are SO SWEET! Wendy was forwarded your comments and she was very appreciative. She understands that her mistake was an honest one and we all at TWP feel badly about it. As such, we all now will only use the paddle for a serious misdeed that we actually SEE/HEAR because no one can take a paddling back!
(Finally, we can agree on something, no one can take a paddling back. The psychological damage is done and I wonder how he will turn out 20, 30, 50 years from now. This story clearly shows why paddling must stop now! Congress woman McCarthy is working a bill through congress to call for the ban of this practice in schools once and for all. Please show your support by letting your representatives know that this abusive way of handling students must be brought to an end.
How to find your Rep:
Contact information for your Representative can be found at: http://www.congress.org/. On the right side of the page, put your zip code in the section where it says “Find Your Lawmakers.”
WHAT TO SAY:
Dear (Your representative’s last name):
Please support H.R. 5628 , a bill to ban school corporal punishment.
Here are some reasons why:
(1) Twenty states still allow corporal punishment in schools and over 223,000 school children are hit each year,
(2) Corporal punishment can lead to student injuries and law suits against school boards,
(3) Over fifty national organizations including the National Education Association, the American Medical Association and the American Bar Association oppose school corporal punishment.
WILL YOU SUPPORT THE BILL?
WILL YOU CO-SPONSOR THE BILL?
Thank you for your support.
Sincerely,
(Your name)
(Your address)
(Your phone number)
Why Paddling must stop! Is Paddling A Form Of Sexual Assault?
I received a letter from a young lady who told me about her paddling experience. I know Teachers Who Paddle have resentment for those who liken paddling with sexual abuse. I suggest Teachers who paddle read this story and see if you have the same attitude afterwords.
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
I would like to relate a most disturbing incident that I experienced when I was a senior in high school in Florida in May of 1984. I had been a runner-up in several local beauty pageants and always considered myself attractive. However, I never felt so ugly and sullied than after this experience, which only now do I find the courage to share.
I had been late three times to school and was sent to the referral center, where I had to explain myself to a male administrative assistant. The teacher who sent me told me that I would be given a choice of three “swats” or three days suspension. On my way to the center I started to feel sick to my stomach, and my knees were starting to get weak. If I took the three days suspension, I would miss out on all of my school work and get zeros for those days in all of my subjects. This would affect my chances of attending college the next year. On the other hand, the idea of bending over and letting them paddle me was a terrible thought. I knew from other students that they make you spread your legs and lie flat on a desk for the paddling. Then they rear back and whack you really hard. Other girls told me that they left the room crying. My mind was racing and my anxiety was building. To make matters worse it had been very warm and I was wearing a mini-skirt that day. Picturing myself in that obscene position with a male administrator and a witness leering at me was a very frightening thought. I became nauseated and went to the school rest room, where I vomited.
After composing myself I proceeded to the referral center, where the male administrator greeted me and very matter-of-factly led me into his office. He looked over my record and the three documented latenesses. Then my worst fears were realized as he asked me whether I wanted three days suspension or three “swats” with a paddle. I thought I would be sick again. I knew I had no choice but to take the paddling. My heart started pounding in my ears, and my knees were shaking as I told him that I would take the “swats”. He indifferently stepped out of his office and called another male administrator to act as a witness. I was really starting to get panicky. The “witness” took a position behind me as the administrator returned to his desk. He opened his drawer and pulled out a paddle. It was about six inches wide, one and a half feet long and about half inch thick. It had several holes drilled in it and I could see the word “OUCH” written on the face. I guess that was some kind of a joke, which only served to make the whole thing that much more disturbing. He proceeded to move a few thing from his desk and spoke to the “witness” as if I weren’t there. He said he would be “giving her three swats for being late”. At this point I was holding onto the desk for support since I was becoming weak with fear. I remember praying, “Oh God, don’t make me bend over for these guys!” I felt so vulnerable in that mini-skirt. Before I knew it the words I dreaded were being said: “I want you to bend over and lie flat on the desk, feet wide apart”. In trembling voice on the verge of tears I mustered the courage to ask to keep my legs together since I was in a skirt. He responded that this was standard school procedure and I should have thought of that before. I then asked if I could have a female administrator administer the paddling, but he told me that there were none available today (how convenient!). So, reluctantly I bent over the desk trying to maintain as much modesty as possible. I can still hear his next command: “feet wider apart”. I obeyed as I wanted this to be over with as soon as possible. At this time I started to cry. He half-jokingly said, “I haven’t even paddled you yet.” I turned to see both of them staring at my upturned buttocks but was told to look at the picture on the wall in front of me. I felt the paddle touch my buttocks with a rubbing motion before he drew back to swing. I heard the paddle whistle slightly as he swung. The “swat” landed and seemed to fill the room with a loud POP. I felt the most incredible pain I had ever experienced and felt myself lifted to my toes from the impact. I tried not to move or cry out to give them any additional satisfaction. I felt totally exposed since I was sure my backside was visible. He drew back for the second swat and hit me again almost immediately. Again, I was lifted to my toes and driven toward the desk. I couldn’t take the pain, so I turned around and asked him to wait a minute. He told me to “get back into position right now.” I was openly crying and said I would rather have the suspension. He told me that the school didn’t “mix and match” punishments and that I would get a fourth “swat” if I did not bend over. I couldn’t believe how childish I was made to feel. Here I was, a 17-year-old women crying like a baby while this strange man spanked me and another man was enjoying it. I bent back over and opened my legs so I would not have to be told. The last swat was the worst yet and I saw stars through my tears. I got up and shifted my weight from side to side to defuse the pain. I did not want to give them the satisfaction of rubbing myself in front of them. He then told me not to be late anymore and asked me to sign the paddle. I refused and he said I could go. I passed the “witness” on my way out, and he looked as if he were blushing. I looked down in embarrassment and shame.
The bruises lasted three weeks, and I had to be careful not to let anyone see them. I was terribly embarrassed and humiliated, and I resolved to keep this experience to myself. I am now married with a child, and I have still never told anyone about this. I only know that this experience was the closest thing to a rape as I can imagine, and I pray that the time will soon come when no one will have to suffer this form of punishment-masked sadism again.
[Name withheld]
Peace, Wade and Jestin
TeachersWhoPaddle EXPOSED 