Dealing with our culture of licks
Much has been said about the young lady who received a serious cut tail from her mother for exposing herself on Facebook. There has been a lot of criticisms and as many commendations. Some believe it is good parenting, others see it as abuse.
The mother has been condemned by a lot of us for what she did but it begs the question, how much discipline is too much and where does discipline stop and abuse set in?
I did not agree with the obscenities used and the quantity of lashes administered.
I admired the child, though, because every time she was summoned to come here she kept coming back for more. She reminded me of the good old days when we were the recipients of licks.
There was a marked difference,however, because I remember my siblings and I running like hell from my mother who couldn’t run as fast as us, so she would wait until darkness set in when we were tired of hiding and had to come inside to sleep. If she tried to continue with the licks it was a case of us diving straight under the bed. (Food was the last thing on our minds). But generally by this time with all her problems she didn’t bother with us.
But seriously we have to understand that it is the culture of certain sectors of our society to deal with situations like these in this manner because we were taught to deal with it in that way.
Behaviour is learned, and trust me, you can’t get rid of it as easy as a lot of people think.
Many people are trying to get away from this culture of licks but this is what our forebears knew and this is what was passed on to us. Licks, licks, licks—no questions asked.
Many people are saying that a little licks will not kill. It is left up to the recipient to state how he/she feels about licks. Everybody reacts differently to situations.
The woman did what she felt was best at the time. The very same people who are criticising her now will be the same people who would condemn her if the child chose a life of crime because when something happens we all ask, where is the parent?
Jerome T Armstrong