My
first grade in school was spent in the last, one room schoolhouse,
still in operation in the state of MO. It was GREAT. I would walk,
or ride my Shetland pony the mile and a half through the woods
to school, and leave him in a barnyard all that day, to ride him
home again. My memories of it are very colorful, vivid and sweet.
There were 2 outhouses, one on each side of the schoolyard; one
for boys and one for girls. A potbellied wood stove in the middle
of the room and a big wooden kitchen table covered in books, served
as our "library". Then there was the woodshed. It served
a dual purpose. It held the stockpile of wood for the stove and
also provided the place where, on occasion, a student was taken
to be out of "earshot" (almost) for the purpose of "intensive
attitude adjustments". I shall never forget one of those
days.
Their
names were Daine and Wayne. They were identical twins. So much
so, that only a couple students could tell them apart. I was not
one that could, neither was the teacher. Both boys were in their
last year at Lone Star School, the eighth grade. They were big,
stout boys that were tough, and used to hard work. Anyway, for
whatever reason, one of the boys hit a kid in the schoolyard.
Problem was, the kid that got belted couldn't tell them apart,
and went crying to the teacher, nursing a very bloody nose. She
immediately called both boys in for questioning. (I shall never
forget it) Wayne swore that Daine did it, and Daine said Wayne
did it. They were confident that they had the teacher stumped.
She never faltered for a second. After giving them time to "come
clean", and seeing it wasn't going to happen, she promptly
took them BOTH to the woodshed. The whole school was "lopsided"
as we all ran to the woodshed side of the schoolhouse, with our
faces stuck to the windows. Though they were the size of grown
men, in no time at all, we could hear them squalling like a mashed
cat. Instant order was again regained. It's amazing how quiet
it gets and how much work you can get done just after something
like that kinda "sets the standard" and all nerve to
challenge that "standard" has departed.
Times
have changed, and that old schoolhouse isn't there anymore. We've
changed as well....possibly more so than the times. Now, instead
of a whipping, (or whooping, where I came from) we have "time
out". Oh yeah. That strikes fear into the heart of the rebellious!
If that doesn't work, we give it a "name" and prescribe
a drug. Thus, telling society, (as well as the child) that "they
can't help being obnoxious"….thus, we must just learn
to put up with their bad manners and lack of respect for authority.
It's not their fault! We now have "call letters" for
these "disorders". ADD....ADHD….(and a new one
I heard the other day, that I especially like)....ADLBD….(attention
deficit, lazy butt disorder)! I realize that sometimes there are
physical problems that a child is dealing with. But for the most
part, what I've personally witnessed is more the results of parents
who are too lazy to spend the time, and consistency it takes,
to discipline their children and get a handle on them at an early
age. They want to "reason" with a 2-year-old and then
suddenly "lay the law down" when the kid is 10 or 12!
It's backwards….and too late.
Anyone
with an IQ above room temperature would know you can't take a
horse 10 or 12 years old that's never been disciplined, saddle
it up, and expect to suddenly bring it under the same strict disciplines
that has taken years of consistent training to get in other horses.
No….what you've got is a bronc! Can they be trained? Yes.
But it can get nasty! Round pens are available everywhere….but
whatever happened to the woodsheds?
