#13 - Giving A Whooping
Published March 26th, 2008 in SRBPL
Our grandparents got em’, our parents got em’, we got em’, and most likely our children will get them too. Judging from the title you probably already know what I’m talking about. Yep, that’s right. A good ole’ whooping. A whooping so good it’ll leave not only your booty raw, but your hands too from trying to cover up your ass. Now no Black parent really enjoys giving a whooping, but a whooping sure does a lot more than timeout. This is why giving a whooping is the preferred choice of discipline by African-American parents.
There are many tools available to successfully administer a lesson-teaching whooping. Obviously the most famous is a belt, but anything can be used from an extension cord to a wooden spoon or even a switch. If you’ve seen the TV movie The Jacksons: An American Dream, you’ll remember the scene where the boys are messing up during rehearsal and Joe Jackson instructs one of the boys to “go get the switch”. Retrieving the switch/belt is almost as awful as the whooping itself due to the suspense. This can be one of the longest, most excruciating walks of your childhood.
To more effectively enforce the rules, remember to reiterate them to child through clenched teeth between blows. From this moment on, the child will anchor those words along with the memory of the whooping which prevents them from misbehaving in the future.
A whooping not only sets the child straight, but it ensures that the child will not make that same mistake twice, because the consequences will be worse. Everyone remembers their first whooping, it’s a life-changing experience. Time-out just doesn’t hack it, after a whooping has been administered, most children are sent to their rooms, so really it’s a two-for-one deal.
A public whooping is not a rare event in the Black community. In such cases, the weapon of choice is usually the palm of your hand. Although public whoopings are regular, if the whooping is severe enough and you are seen by a fellow church member, be prepared to overhear something on the grapevine about an abusive father or mother who takes out their anger on their children, even though this may not be the case.
Remember going to get the belt from your parents room, and taking a detour to stuff your pants with as many clothes as possible to soften the blows, only to get caught and receive a worse whooping because of your deception?
Have you ever been sent to get the belt and came back and saying you couldn’t find the belt and got in more trouble?
How about getting in trouble, and thinking you aren’t getting a whooping, and finally going to sleep, only to get called out of bed to get an unexpected bedtime whooping?
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27 Comments to “#13 - Giving A Whooping”
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OMG I remember all that!! Shit I’m not even gonna lie, I got my last whoopin when I was 15 and I still remember that even though its well over 5 years!
I don’t remember stuffing my pants but I remember being called and having to close the door so I can get whooped. It was worse if I cried, because everytime I cried I got another whooping lol. Ugh..horrible memories.
haha! I am guilty! I did say I couldn’t find the belt.
Lmaooooo…..That Jacksons scene was the perfect example to use. I reminisce about my old ass whoopings with my friends from time to time, our stories are priceless.
I used to get a choice between a whooping and getting punished. I always chose the whooping thinking it would be over quicker. Unfortunately, most times I ended up getting punished the next day for something else. Good post!
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This is soooo true and funny as hell. I worked in a sporting goods store and all the little white kids would climb on the treadmills and play with the golf clubs and the parents didn’t do anything, but the Black parents would say “do you want me to give you a whoopin?” and the kids didn’t do a thing after that. There is nothing wrong with a good whoopin, timeouts can be effective but when it’s time the kid needs a smack.
After the age of 8, I just giggle when my mom spanked me. So she stopped, and moved on to throwing things.
My wacom tablet mouse never recovered…
I remember this kid getting a whipping from his mom in front my whole middle school class…needless to say she was hating.
ill give you a spankin’
loll
just kidding! but really, nice post. i lol’ed and yeah my hands got hurt worse than my butt.. ugh.. blocking doesnt work either cus then my mom would aim for the back.
HAHAAA good times. my grandma used to go upside my ass all day with that belt.
i used to run into the steeet and call for help. but i was dumb. theyd remember that shit the next day and get me while i wasnt looking. LMAO
*sigh* good post good post
Thanks for using my “beating children” suggestion.
We got whoopings African style, with a stick. The walk to go get the stick was like a death march. I remember praying for some natural disaster to happen so thay my parents would be distracted from the whooping at hand
LOLLL@ getting beat with a stick..
that must have been exciting.
a stick and a switch are alike
switches break sometimes when you use them too much?
Very true auntyherohag, thats when you instruct the child to get a fresh switch.
I remember I tried to hide all of the belts in my house. Then I had to pick switches. I remember the day of 3 whoopins because my switches didn’t meet the standards for quality control.
Damn did you know my mama? LOL.
Have you ever been sent to get the belt and came back and saying you couldn’t find the belt and got in more trouble?
I would get the smallest belt i could find, then get the WTF look
LMAO, my whoopings came as a surprise if I was really bad. My mom would wait until it was bath time to get us while we were wet and nakes. You can’t recover from that. I remember going outside to pick my switch as well. Of course I would go and pick the small switch but my mother would go out their and pick a branch of the damn tree.
excuse the typo (naked
lmaoooooo fresh out the water whoopins. that suckss
OMG! This is so funny! I am crying laughing! I can recall getting my last good whoopin at a very young age around 8 years old. After that, I became the angel child because I wasn’t trying to go get anymore switches/belts/brooms/sticks, my tail was through with that! I learned with the quickness. So, my forte became laughing at my siblings when they had to take the death walk. My brother even ran around and around a bush in the yard from my mother when she was whippin him once. He was known as the fastest kid in the neighborhood too. That was a funny scene that day! He started laughing too, but you know what was up once he came back in the house…got his lil “Carl Lewis” running booty whooped off! After that, she held him down to give him a whoopin! I was a laughing hyena behind his whoopins. I even got popped a couple of times for laughing too!
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That belt haunts me still
Never got whoopings - suburban child that I was - I got spankings. And no switch or belt. We were sophisticated so I got spanked with the paddle from a paddle ball.
My mother didn’t do many beatings in public, she prefered to ignore me and spank me later. By the time my nephew came along when I was 11, she’d graduated to one of those wooden stirrers they give you when you buy paint. I drew a face on it for him and called it Mr. Spanky. God I’m an asshole lmao
Dad never spanked; always mother.
She was really very clever when it came to finding good spanking tools…
Someone made reference to “African style whooping”, well I’m a true African and I know what the means. We had a stick kept in the closet of my parents room that we had to get. The we had to lie down on the floor, hands underneath our bodies, and accept the whooping. All the other kids gathered around, for humiliation and preventive purposes. My brother broke the stick once, and then it was a belt, or we had to go out in the garden and get a new stick. I remember wandering around hoping they’d forget… Oh, and a bad one was the African flip flop, which is sturdier than a regular one - my mother looooved the flip flop.
Ahhh, good times.
I couldn’t understand some parts of this article iving A Whooping | anythingBlack, but I guess I just need to check some more resources regarding this, because it sounds interesting.
Man, I remember getting whooped with a switch, belt, phone cord (by my grandma for not staying still while she did my hair), even a fly swatter. My mom told me of the ONE time I tried to call myself throw a tantrum in the grocery store when I was 3 or so over some candy. The end result was my ass getting up off the floor. Now if parents did that nowadays to their kids and spare the store patrons of hearing their brats shouting like a damn fool (mostly white people’s kids), then maybe things will be better off!