If you're opposed to corporal punishment in the schools, it's easy to find validation.
You can note the school district's reduction in paddling, cite the legal risks and draw upon expert opinions.
For some of us whose formative years were shaped by the occasional encounter with a paddle or a golden ruler, it's far more difficult to reach that conclusion. We attribute our sense of right and wrong in part to lessons learned from the solemn dean or, in my case, the stern nun.
When School Board member Jennifer Faliero raised the issue last week, she was asking how the district should deal with the small percentage of students (less than half of 1 percent) who are considered extremely disruptive. She wanted paddling to be part of the discussion.
And now it is, at water coolers and churches and grocery stores all around the county.
In my mind, Faliero created an internal tug of war between my anecdotal memories and the sound reasoning of corporal punishment opponents.
When I suggested to some, "Hey, maybe she's got a point," I got that "Do we need to call DCF?" look. Others quietly nodded in approval, believing they too are better off because of a smack on the bottom. As someone who has spanked my own kids, it's difficult to disagree.
But good news, boys. After a lot of research and a little soul searching, I've concluded the paddle needs to be put on the shelf. And, in an attempt to sort out my feelings, I think I discovered what schools really need to do to get better behavior out of kids.
The first step in this process was to think about my memories. As a Catholic school brat, I had a few brushes with physical discipline. Not many, but enough to leave an impression. I weighed those instances, like that time in fifth grade when Sister Sylvia hit me with the ruler, against the criticisms I had found on the Internet.
Did I conclude back then that violence was the best way to solve a conflict, like the critics suggest? No, I concluded that controlling my behavior was the best way to avoid violent situations.
My parents were angry - not at the school, but at me. They told me to stay out of trouble. Period. And I did for the rest of my school years.
So am I just rationalizing? I took that question to Garret Evans, an associate professor in the University of Florida's National Rural Behavioral Health Center who specifically helps schools prevent juvenile violence. He said those moments may have been effective with me, but better methods now exist.
When Evans was in graduate school, he also thought corporal punishment was good because he experienced it growing up. But the more he read and studied, the more he was convinced it was not the best long-term method.
"Reward systems, taking privileges away, having kids sit in time out, having them miss recess, having them make up work because of things like in-school suspensions - those are more effective in the long run," Evans said.
While the paddle may work with some, there are potential negative side effects. Research shows it could create a chasm between the student and the teacher, Evans said. Some studies suggest corporal punishment makes kids more likely to be abusive as adults.
As much as you might want to, you can't argue with science.
To me, Evans' most illuminating point was the suggestion schools should immediately involve parents when there is a serious behavioral problem.
I thought about what it would have been like if my parents were called away from their jobs to sit in a conference and hear about what I was doing wrong. Even now, at age 39, I get queasy.
The disappointment on their faces would have hurt more than any paddle.
I just hope every parent will be disappointed when faced with a behavioral problem.
