Anyway, by the time I had turned 10 or 11, I was scared of being spanked all the time. In one episode, I did poorly on an assignment while in school because I didn't quite understand what the teacher wanted me to do, and my mother got so angry that she threatened to spank me if I didn't get a good grade. I was crying while my dad got my brother and I ready for bed because I just knew that I wouldn't be able to do it.
Afterwards, mom and dad started phasing spankings out and using groundings instead, which probably had a better effect because of the inconvenience they caused. Still, I was kinda like Liberty Ferall. I tried to be the perfect child and didn't do anything wrong. Went to church and sucked in the fundamentalism and avoided doing anything that my parents disapproved of or which might get me into trouble. It wasn't until about halfway through college that I realized the truth I had believed in was an elaborate lie, a curtain around the real world. Ironically, I went to a private Baptist school. My parents don't really understand what went wrong.
I suppose, using my life only as an anecdote, heavy handed corporeal punishment only serves to create fear. It doesn't actually make the child think about why they're in trouble, or why what they're doing is wrong, and this is very important. At the school I work at, kindergartners behave better if they understand why they're in trouble, not if you just yell at them out of being angry. I do that a lot...
![Sad :(](./images/smilies/icon_sad.gif)