| Subject: The Day of the Mass Paddling |
Author:
JD Winchester
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Date Posted: 21:13:54 11/07/24 Thu
So here I was, 11 years old and in the 6th Grade. The start of a new school year with all new plans, promises and expectations of a new school year, new friends to make and – of course – the single most important reason for an 11 year old boy to be alive…11 year old GIRLS (some of the “older ladies” were 12).
Yes, this wonderful, amazingly cute creature called a “girl” seemed to be becoming more interesting and more attractive with each passing year… Just the cutest little faces, their doe-like eyes, long eyelashes, pretty smiles and cute little noses…and something else was going on here…they were no longer built so much like boys anymore, they were beginning to change in that regard as well. Don’t be fooled by the “innocence of youth”; even at the tender age of eleven myself, I vividly recall checking out the cute little rounded butts of these 11 and 12 year old girls. I remember following cheerleader Janet as our class walked in line to the school cafeteria, my eyes glued to the seat of her white pleated skirt, watching how the skirt bounced around the contours of her shapely, pert little girl fanny as she walked, first coming back and out and then gently wrapping back down and around the bump that was her butt, with each step she took. I was mesmerized. Don’t blame me…this was just Mother Nature at work, her way of assuring the continued procreation of the human species…I was merely a pawn in her Game of LIFE.
But I digress.
We had a new teacher this year – as always – but when I say new, I think she may have been fresh out of college. I am not certain, but I believe we were Miss Mellinger’s first class ever. She was definitely a “Miss” and not a “Mrs.;” I kind of knew her or at least knew OF her…she was dating and engaged to the older son of friends of my parents; she knew who I was.
Miss Mellinger was a delight of a teacher. Very intelligent, very kind, very accommodating and friendly toward all of us students. I really admired her, wanted to do well to please her…I think we all did. Miss Mellinger seemed to represent the “new age” teacher; she was different from most of the older lady teachers we were accustomed to up until that time; for one thing, she didn’t really believe in paddling. Like all teachers, she HAD a paddle, but I think it was a requirement, not something she requested.
Before the day of the mass paddling, I only recall seeing Miss Mellinger paddle on one occasion. A rather chubby boy in our class (a rarity in those days) had pulled a prank during lunch one day in the cafeteria, loosening the lids of several saltshakers so that the entire contents of the shaker would pour onto student’s food when they attempted to add a little salt. Michael was caught, captured, tried, and convicted of his mischievous prank, and sentenced to a paddling in front of the class, shortly after we all returned from lunch.
I kind of felt sorry for Michael; I could appreciate a good prank myself and it was too bad he was having to pay such a hefty price for a little fun…but yet, here he was. Miss Mellinger had Michael face the class and confess to us what he was getting paddled for, as she stood by his side, paddle in hand. He was visibly shaken, having never been paddled before…his voice was shaky, he seemed on the verge of tears just telling us of his misadventure, and then when he finished, he pleaded with Miss Mellinger to let him off; his exact words were, “Please don’t paddle me Miss Mellinger! You know I have a tender heart!” A big smile instantly appeared on Miss Mellinger’s face as if she really wanted to, but was suppressing a laugh as she replied, “It’s not your heart you need be worried about, Michael!” Laughter erupted from the rest of the class, but we were quickly admonished to knock it off, lest we wished to join Michael at the front of the classroom. Without further ado, Miss Mellinger ordered Michael to bend over and put his hands on his knees. He did so and she applied three pretty solid swats to the seat of his jeans. He yelped with each one of them, but he really didn’t “lose it” and break down crying. But it was that incident, that confirmed for us that Miss Mellinger DID have the capacity to paddle a student, because before, we didn’t think she had it in her. Still, she did not resort to paddling as a matter of routine after paddling Michael. In fact, I honestly cannot remember if she ever paddled any other student after that, until that fateful day of “The Mass Paddling.”
Many weeks later when we came into the classroom that morning, Miss Mellinger had written assignments on the chalkboard. Scanning what she had written, it was evident there were enough assignments to keep us busy all day, and perhaps then some. After everyone was settled into his or her seat, she spoke for the first time. I should mention this was a very large, overpopulated class, upwards of 45 students. At any rate, Miss Mellinger spoke very softly, using as few words as possible to explain to us that she had a severe case of laryngitis and would not be talking for the remainder of the day, so we were to quietly sit at our desk and work on the assignments as she had posted them on the board. She put us on notice that she was not going to be able to “call us down” all day for misbehavior, such as talking without permission, and so for today she would not do that…instead, she would quietly write our name down on a notepad if we were out-of-line, and near the end of the day if our name was on her notepad, we would be paddled.
I obviously cannot speak for any other student in that classroom, but I would hazard to guess that we were pretty much of the same mindset, “Nah…not Miss Mellinger…it’s just a threat to make us behave, no way is she serious about paddling anyone.” But still, there was that degree of uncertainty…just enough doubt to keep you pretty much on the straight-and-narrow. All throughout the day, not a word did Miss Mellinger speak, but she could be seen looking in the direction of someone whispering and then writing on her notepad. Was it a ruse? Was she REALLY going to follow through? At one point, Janet (same girl) who sat right next to me asked me something in a whisper, and I just HAD to answer her…when I did Miss Mellinger looked directly at me. I thought she wrote on her pad immediately afterward, so then my heart was up in my throat.
At about an hour before last bell to go home, Miss Mellinger spoke again for the first time. She arose from her desk, removed her paddle from her desk drawer, picked up her notepad and said, “If I call your name, come to the front of the class and begin to form a line.” Again, I think we were all beginning to think, “OMG! Is she for REAL, or is she really just pushing this whole threat to the final degree?!” STILL not totally convinced, but it was really beginning to look like Miss Mellinger was completely serious.
Reading from the notepad, Miss Mellinger called name after name…it seemed to go on forever, like it was never going to end; my heart was beating out of my chest and I had given up on trying to breathe when she first started to read from the list. FINALLY, praise be to GOD it was over…she finally read a final name and set the notepad back down on her desk…but not before about 30 students had vacated their desk and were lined up across the front of the classroom, and then down an adjacent wall because the line was so long. There were more empty chairs than filled ones, only about 15 of us were left sitting. It seemed to be about a 50/50 mixture of boys and girls, perhaps if there was a majority it was girls, because it seems the poor lasses have more difficulty not talking than boys do.
Miss Mellinger quickly exchanged the notepad in her hand for her paddle. She walked to the front of the line and told the student there to face the class, bend over with hands on knees for 3 licks, and then to return quietly to their desk…and each in turn was to do the same. And so it began… Approximately 30 young fannies bent over and stuck out for chastisement from Miss Mellinger’s wooden school paddle…some 90 swats delivered right then and there.
It was interesting how different students reacted differently to being paddled. Some were very stoic, seemed to be no worse for the wear; others were mortified, cried profusely…and it didn’t seem to matter too much if it was a boy or a girl; some girls cried, some didn’t. Some boys cried, some didn’t.
One girl, way back in line, was apparently traumatized over the whole thing. She was kind of a goody-two-shoes little princess and this was just NOT acceptable to her. She was crying her eyes out while standing in line, well before her turn. Finally overcome with the magnitude of trauma she was facing, she left her place in line and walked directly up to Miss Mellinger to tearfully plead and beg her case, insisting she had not talked. Miss Mellinger had no sympathy for her, sternly suggested she return to her place in line, else she would get it worse. She returned. When it became her turn, she was bawling like a baby before she even bent over. With each lick, this poor girl screamed like a banshee, you’d have thought Miss Mellinger was skinning her alive. The girl really made a spectacle of herself, unfortunately.
Just as the last student was returning to her desk and Miss Mellinger was putting her paddle away, one of the nosy, busybody older lady teachers next door came over to investigate what all the commotion was about, apparently after hearing nearly 100 paddle licks. Miss Mellinger assured her everything was fine; I think she resented this old biddy putting her nose where it didn’t belong…it wasn’t the first time Miss Mellinger had to deal with some of these old lady teachers treating HER like she wasn’t an equal, but that’s another story for another time.
Amazingly everyone survived and no real harm was done. Everyone went home on time, safe and sound…though I image there were more than a few red burning butts wiggling and waggling out the classroom door and sitting on the bus seats for the ride home!
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