PERRY: Spanking is just another wrong instance of adult hands on kids’ butts

I was a rotten child of the ‘60s. I was spanked. I should have been jailed.

It was a stupid time in America that we still haven’t gotten past. I was the kid who was constantly blackmailed by a little brother who endlessly said, “I’m gonna tell Mom,” and he had endless good reasons to do it.

I had a cathedral full of lighted candles in our cardboard fort.

I fancied myself a budding Jackson Pollock by throwing rotten tomatoes against the garage wall in a seizure of artistic frenzy. The stains are still there.

I gave the family Schnauzer a mohawk.

I made soap in the basement.

I took apart a TV set, a waffle iron and my dad’s lawnmower, engine and all.

I made my own gunpowder in the family room, and ignited it.

I made my own fireworks and punched a hole through our neighbor’s garage door in an awesome display of suburban rocketry.

The spankings started early, about the time I could walk and talk back. And they never, ever did a damn bit of good. Oh, I would swear that I would never again mix crackers, milk and ketchup and pretend to puke it all over the living room floor when we had a babysitter. Of course those promises came under duress as my dad’s 48-inch, thick, leather belt came racing out of his pant belt loops, usually to be flailed in threats rather than bracing my sorry ass. Paddlings were generally delivered with a fly swatter or an exasperated hand.

One day it was all tears and cursing about what a horrible kid I was. The next day I was thinking up some new way to ditch school and ride my bike along the tracks halfway to Wyoming as a keen adventure.

My parents pretty much abandoned spankings as I grew older and chose, instead, to hang out in recliners in a coma of disbelief that one child could get into so much trouble, every day.

In an amazing twist of fate, my own daughter was the kid my parents always dreamed of having. Oh, she was far from perfect. She was kind of lazy, overly cautious and had a smart mouth. It was so out of character one day when she colored on her bedroom floor with a crayon that all I could do was laugh. I never once considered spanking her, because it doesn’t do a damn bit of good.

As to parents, that’s another story. That’s the story of Kansas. This week, state lawmakers there are fine-tuning a corporal punishment bill. In Kansas, you can whack a kid on the butt with your hand up to 10 times, even if it leaves bruises and red marks. In Kansas, a lot of people believe that you can’t reason with a rotten kid, you have to inflict pain and humiliation on them to get them to behave. How’s that work with you? How effective would it be in keeping you from coming to work 5 to 10 minutes late, two or three days a week if you had to put your hands on your boss’ desk, bent over, so he could whack your ass 10 good times while everyone else in the office watched? Think you’d ever be late again? Think you’d work there?

How is it that, as adults, we forget that children are more sensitive to pain and humiliation, not less sensitive. What crazy thing happens to adults to think that spanking a kid does anything but allow frustrated parents and school employees to vent their aggravation? Endless studies, and studies of endless studies, show that spanking doesn’t prevent bad behavior, other than while the kid is getting hit, and it absolutely makes the kid resentful and often more aggressive, for the rest of the child’s life. Harsh spankings teach kids to lie to avoid getting hit. And yes, it’s hitting. It’s exactly what we work so hard as adults to teach children not to do with each other. “Don’t hit.” And then we sometimes hit them while we’re saying it.

Among the more bizarre and irrational culturally entrenched human behaviors, spanking is one that is so easy to prove does no good and does plenty of harm.

Here’s a chance to show the world that Kansas isn’t as crazy as we all think it is. Locally, make sure your school refuses to inflict physical pain on children, and check yourself, too. It’s easy. Just tell everyone to keep their hands off your kid’s butt at all times and in all situations. Problem solved.

Reach editor Dave Perry at 303-750-7555 or dperry@aurorasentinel.com