When I was a kid, punishment was either a clip around the ear, a ‘go to your room’ or a ‘go and dig the garden over’. It all depended on what I’d done as to what I got.
None of the punishments really hurt physically but some were very painful on a psychological level. For instance, the clip around the ear always came from my dad and, although he had heavy hands, he invariably pulled back so that he didn’t damage my head or brain. But he damaged my heart.
Big people who imagine that they are more important than little people just on the basis of their size will damage the hearts of those little people. They will cause them suffering. They will kill their spirit.
Mine didn’t die, but it was set back a little.
And as for digging the garden? Well I enjoyed that. There’s a lot to be said for creating order out of chaos and weeds by the strength of your own hands.
And going to my room was a cakewalk. That’s where my books were. That’s where I’m really wanted to be. So being sent to my room was really the opposite of punishment. And once the sobbing had stopped then I made the most of it.
And I still am.