Flogging not the answer

It's Christmas - that time of the year when many of us would rather not be reminded of the unpleasant things happening around us. We just want to cloak our children in the goodness of the season and protect them from all the evil lurking on the streets, in school, and, unfortunately, sometimes in the home.

There was a time when parents had little need to be concerned about their children, as their security was as structured and predictable as a mathematical formula. Today, children are a prime target of the wave of wickedness that has swept across Jamaica.

I dare anyone say I am overreacting, when official figures are showing that between January 1 and November 24 this year, there have been 697 reported cases ofcarnal abuse and sexual intercourse with minors. Not to mention the murders. I dare you!

But I won't go there now. Instead, I'll briefly state my position on the matter of flogging children to learn - this classic classroom abuse! Then I'll allow you into your favourite magazine for parents.

Some parents say they have no problem with a teacher flogging their children who are not performing well in school. Someone even said, when the debate was hot last month, "Show me the child who this has hurt." I don't have to go far. I present to you, Phyllis Thomas. Me.

I had a serious problem with maths. I just couldn't get it, and it wasn't for lack of trying. In primary school, the cane didn't work. Every time I looked at the numbers, I saw the cane. And even when my brother, a whiz at maths, was given the strap and authority to beat it into me (which he tried to do dutifully, and with pleasure), it didn't work.

To this day 1+1=11. The mental block seems immovable, because I am still intimidated by maths.

There has to be another approach.I received another lesson at Whitfield Primary School in west Kingston. Although it had nothing to do with figures, it was a lesson learnt without classroom abuse. I was asked by a teacher to take something to the principal's office. I entered the office and said, "Good morning, sir," but he said to me, "Go back to the door and come in again."

I did. "Good morning, sir." Again, he sent me back.

I went back, patted my hair to ensure every strand was in place, adjusted my uniform, just in case that was the problem, and held my head high. Something was still wrong.

He got up from his desk, walked to the door, then approached his desk, his shoes dragging on the floor like a pair of old slippers - scrip, scrip, scrip. "Now," he said, "go back to the door and approach my desk!" I understood.

There are creative strategies we can employ to get our children to learn instead of trying to beat it into them. There's nothing positive about that.

OK, then, you now have my permission. Turn the pages and enjoy.