I (wish I didn’t) Remember Mama: Introduction

A little girl would be beaten with a belt whenever she was kept after school. It was 1956 and she was in second grade. She spent many an afternoon doing punishment lessons for her failure to do her homework properly—infractions such as not employing the correct method of folding the paper. The child was punished so often that she became paranoid, and every night before she started her homework she would check on the porch adjoining the dining room to see if Mrs. Wright was spying on her.

Her punishments were not administered as soon as she returned home from school because she had to wait until her father got home from work. She was not punished as soon as Dad got home because supper would soon be ready, and her mother would often say, “Spank her after dinner…I don’t want my appetite ruined.”

And so, the little girl would go through the meal dreading what was to follow. Do you think her appetite was spoiled?

Reflecting back on this drama, I remember that my parents often complained that Mrs. Wright was not certified or qualified to teach (it was a private school) and yet…

 I also wonder how Mrs. Wright arrived at her appraisal of my paper-folding. The paper was to be folded in half lengthwise, which it was. What would make the miserable woman suspect or accuse otherwise?

Another thing I remember from second grade is that I wouldn’t eat. My father, in  his wisdom, would take me to the library and find books about children who wouldn’t eat, all of which had a moral and hearty meal at the end. It never occurred to me until today—55 years later—that I had developed an eating disorder of sorts. If I didn’t eat, I wouldn’t get beat. At least that’s what my seven-year-old self must have been thinking.

I was a skinny kid, but a few years later I was a chubby kid. Then I was skinny, then fat, then thin, then…oh well, you get the picture. As long as I can remember, eating has been an issue for me.

After half a century, I’m left with a question. Did my dysfunctional relationship with food begin with, “Spank her after dinner…I don’t want my appetite ruined”?