“RAISE UP A CHILD"

Edith V.P. Hudley, Wendy Haight, and Peggy Miller

Chapter 3:  That Little Switch

If you did somethin wrong, you’d get that little switch. And it sting. But now when we was goin to school, the teachers had what they called a rattan. They used to plat [braid] it. They made a switch out of it. Now I didn’t think that rattan would ever wear out, but thank God, I didn’t get to get no whippin with that rattan. ’Cause I was afraid of that rattan.

But, the children was obedient, more obedient. They didn’t come back to the teachers like children do now. I have been to school since my kids been in school. And to hear the childrens talk back to the teachers—I feel so sorry for those teachers I almost went into tears. And the way they [children] would talk—my mother and father wouldn’t allow us. You’d better not disobey that teacher. And they’d get the word when I was goin to school.

The parents and the teachers worked together with the kids. They didn’t [have] parents’ and teachers’ meetings, like, you know, the PTA. I didn’t know anything about that until my kids was in school. But my parents would meet with the teachers to see how the childrens was comin along and if there that was anything they could do. Now if the parent got a note from the teacher about that child—if it was somethin the child had [done] and if they’d do it again—they would write a note [to ask] if it’s all right for the teacher to chastise that child. Then, if that parent say “Yes,” that teacher was gonna chastise that child when they do somethin wrong again. Then the teacher would ask the parents to come and visit the school and sit in and see how your child was doin.

Well, we were brought up reachin out, see. If you seen me doin somethin wrong, you speak to me, “Now you know your mother don’t allow you to do that. I’m gonna report you to your mother. You better stop. I better not see you back with no lip!” Oh, no, no no. That was a no-no. I [as a child] better say, “Yes, Ma’am, I’m not gonna do it anymore.” That was, that was the thing we’d be sayin. So you wouldn’t tell Mother. Because if I act up, and you go tell Mother, when I get there, “Sister so-and-so tell me you did such and such a thing, and she spoke to you and you acted up. Now, what must I do?” And that spankin was gonna come. I better honor you. That was one thing. You had to honor your elders. If you chastise me, I didn’t want to get another one. You can chastise me, give me a spankin. “You know your mother doesn’t allow you to do that!” I’d better not go tell Mother. I’d get another one! So, that’s the way it was. It was the love, I think it was, the community love. All the mothers was lovin to their children. They was bondin together.

One of the old ones in the family could say, “I’m gonna tell your mother on you, ’cause you know your mother don’t allow you to do that.” Better not give you back no lip. Uh uh. That older one tell you that, you better listen. And you’d better not give back no lip. That’s the way they brought us up. Even if you was workin for somebody, in the field or where[ever]—and whoever we was workin for seen you doin somethin wrong—“I’m gonna report you to your mother.” And you won’t say nothin back to them neither. You’re workin for ’em, you bet you better not say nothin back to them neither. “Now, if you want to work for me, you better do just what I say. Now if you can’t do that, you can’t come back.” You better be quiet and do what they say. That’s the way it was. It seemed like everybody was for everybody. Tryin to help each other.

I can remember my dad chastisin one lady’s son. She was a single mother, and this was a funny thing. She was a single mother, and she had three boys and one girl that she was raisin them. She had a grown daughter that was gone by at that particular time. And that oldest boy would take one of those twins, and one of those twins would follow him anywhere. And I remember they was livin in the back of where we was livin, on another road. But our field went to that road. And Papa had watermelons. Oh we raised watermelons, and we had sugar cane, all that. We had a good field. Peas, and all of that. And we had milk cows and everything.

The oldest boy, he didn’t know what to get into. He’d take one of his twin brothers, come over to our house, turn out our calves, the calves gone with the cows, takin the bells off of the calves—we had bells on the calves so if they’d get out we could locate ’em—put it [the bells] in the, in the manure where we done piled it up for garden fertilizer, done buried it in that. And turned the calves out where they got with the cows. I don’t know whether we had dinner—we came home, Papa said, “Lord, have mercy,” he said, “Sweetheart!” She said, “What?” Then she said, “Those devilish boys done been here and turned the calves out.” He says, “And don’t hear no bells.” He said, “And Lord look that!” What happened—accidentally happened—one of the little straps on the bell, you know that go around the neck. Happened that one of these was hangin out of the fertilizer, and that’s the way my daddy knew it was in the fertilizer! [Laughs] And he said, “Sweetheart.” Mama said, “What is it, Mr. Aaron?” He said, “I don’t know nobody that’d do that but J. C. That’s Fanny’s boys did that.” He said, “And I’m goin over to her house right now.”

So, he had to go across—when you went ’cross our field, he’d come out right at her house, and he went over and talked to her and told her. She said, “I imagine they did, Aaron,” she said, “I wouldn’t put nothin by ’em.” She say, “OK, which one of ya’ll do it?” [Laughs] And the youngest boy that was with ’em said, “J. C. did it.” J. C. said, “No, Mutt did it. Mutt did—you know you was with me!” And his [Mutt’s] twin didn’t go. His name was Willis—it was Wilford and Willis. Willis didn’t go. Willis said, “Mama, J. C. and Mutt went. I did stayed here with Teresa.” That was the baby girl, and the only girl, they was three boys. He said, “I stayed here with her. So they was the ones gone, Mama,” he said, “and if anything’s wrong, they the ones did it, not me, Mama.”

So Papa takin them and brought ’em back over to the house and made ’em dig out. [Laughs] Then, he takin ’em back to her house. And she told him, she said, “And bring your switch when you come back, Aaron. And I want you to whip ’em for me,” she said, “because I don’t want somebody to kill my children.” Said, “They do it to somebody else, they may kill ’em.” So Papa got him a little switch, came on back. Lead ’em on back to the house. He didn’t do anything to ’em. He was just waitin for ’em and carry ’em back to the house.

She said, “Now Aaron, I want you to whip those boys until I tell you to stop.” She said, “I’m tired and I don’t want ’em killed. Somebody gonna kill ’em if they don’t stop.” Papa whipped Mutt. When he got through with Mutt, the other one’s gonna break and run, and Papa got him. And Papa whipped J. C., and while he was whippin J. C., she had a brother that lived not too far, and he heard J. C. holler, and J. C. called his name. And he came up there with his gun. And loaded it on my papa and said, “If you hit him another lick, I’ll blow your so-and-so-and-so brains out.” And his [J. C.’s] mother went and told him, said, “You go home. I told him to whip my son because the way they goin, they gonna turn up dead, and you won’t be the one to kill ’em, be somebody else. So, I want Aaron to whip J. C. till I tell him to stop.”

Now, ya’ll gonna laugh. Papa gave him that whippin, that broke that boy. And do you know who my first boyfriend was, was that boy! Growed up, that was the best boy in the community! J. C. loved my dad to death. [Laughs] J. C. loved my dad to death. And we used to sit up and laugh and talk about that. He used to come and see me and he started to callin Papa, “Papa.” He said, “Papa,” he said, “do you remember when you gave me that whippin and my uncle came up there and loaded his gun down on you and said, ‘If you hit him another lick, I’ll blow your so-and-so brains out’?” Papa said, “Yes, and I was ready to blow his out.” He said, “And Mama told him to go home.” He said, “Papa, you know,” he said, “that was the best thing you ever did for me.” He said, “If you hadn’t a did that,” he said, “I may a not be livin today.”