Whoopins

"If parents put the fear of the belt in you as a child, I think you’re less likely to end up on probation or parole as an adult."

By Brandon McFarland

Listen to this Commentary!

Youth Radio’s Brandon McFarland has survived some pretty harsh discipline in his childhood. But surprisingly, he’s not complaining. Even though he endured a lot of whoopins from his father, he believes it makes you a better person in the long run. (August 18 on NPR's All Things Considered)

Think of your deepest, darkest fear. Maybe it’s lying in a tub of rats, or getting jumped, or being caught in Jaws territory.

Me, I’m scared of leather.

I was eight years old when I got my first whoopin. I remember waiting outside my dad’s room as he browsed through the massive belt collection hanging on his closet door. I kept wishing I could rewind to whatever I did...and just stop doing it. But it was too late.

My dad grabbed this black leather belt with a gold buckle. “Come in here and close the door.” I was terrified. I wanted to run...but I braced myself and did what I was told.

Ten minutes of me screaming, trying to block the blows to my bare legs while my dad had a firm grip on my arm to keep me still, striking at will. Afterwards, my dad told me, “It hurts me more than it hurts you.” But how could he possibly know the pain of my five alarm butt cheeks? I was mad that night, but I knew it was cause and effect - I couldn’t stay angry at my dad for giving me the punishment I deserved. At the same time, some part of me still couldn’t understand why pops had to go to the extreme like that.

Now when I’m at the mall with my mom, and we see kids going nuts, we say, “That’s a shame. Their parents should do something.” I mean, you ever watch these kids? You could make a movie called “When Toddlers Attack!” They throw fits, kicking and screaming for no reason. It might seem a bit sadistic, but if we see a little black kid running around and yelling, we follow them, and just wait for the mom to snatch them up and spank them. The flip side is those white mothers who try to hold a conversation with their semi-lunatic child – it just seems like a waste of breath and time.

For a lot of black kids, getting whoopins is the norm. My friends and I even used to compare horror stories and compete over who got it the worst, like, “My dad body slammed me!” Or... “Moms made me go outside and pick the switch to beat me with!” It’s a point of pride to have parents that involved.

To us, if your mom didn’t bother to whoop you, it showed she didn’t care. I knew a lot of moms who were too consumed with their own lives to take the time for discipline, and their kids ran the streets. But if parents put the fear of the belt in you as a child, I think you’re less likely to end up on probation or parole as an adult.

I always knew my family loved me. Sure, I never liked getting a whoopin, but it worked. I’ve grown to be a responsible, respectful young man.