Briefly weighing in on the Parenting Dilemma:

[Cramulus]

quick factoid from a Psychology of Education class I took:

Kids who were spanked score significantly lower on the SATs than kids who were never spanked.

[LHX]

the practicality of SAT scores is debatable


toss those same kids in a steel cage match and the outcome might be different

[AFK]

school of hard knocks can be educational too. 

[Cramulus]

the practicality of SAT scores is debatable


toss those same kids in a steel cage match and the outcome might be different

But how should I raise my kid if I want him to win the Nobel prize AND wrestle bears? 

[saint aini]

the practicality of SAT scores is debatable


toss those same kids in a steel cage match and the outcome might be different

But how should I raise my kid if I want him to win the Nobel prize AND wrestle bears? 

You encourage him to develop into a physicist, which helps him win the prize and encourages him to host BSU parties.

[Jasper]

quick factoid from a Psychology of Education class I took:

Kids who were spanked score significantly lower on the SATs than kids who were never spanked.

Strange.

Physiognomy identifies fear of failure with the ass.

[Deepthroat Chopra]

the practicality of SAT scores is debatable


toss those same kids in a steel cage match and the outcome might be different

But how should I raise my kid if I want him to win the Nobel prize AND wrestle bears? 

Beat the shit out of them with encyclopaedia?

[Suu]

Also keep in mind that there is a difference between discipline and abuse.

I was disciplined, my mom smacked me if I got snippy to her. She didn't knock my teeth out, she taught me a lesson: smacks hurt, so don't drop F-bombs in front of mom when you're 13 years old.

My dad would pop me on the ass if I did something wrong. Did he beat me until I was black and blue? No. Did I learn a lesson? Yeah, because I don't think he had to do it more than a couple of times in my lifetime, and they were all when I was still in elementary school.

We were also pretty involved kids. I started taking Taekwondo when I was 10 along with my brother and sister. I also did intermural soccer and then in high school I swam competitively, played volleyball, and was in the drama club for a period of time. My sister ran track, etc., and my brother was so ADHD that either he was stupid on medication or could barely sit still in school, so the state of Rhode Island forced him to drop out of high school because they "don't employ professionals to work with such disruptive students" and insist that we send him to a mental institution. (Please to note it's a fad in RI to be locked in one of our fine mental institutions. I want to say that 75% of the state say that they are diagnosed bipolar I)

However, my brother found his niche in the kitchen and became a chef by ways of hard knocks and now makes some serious money in Florida. My parents weren't happy that he dropped out of high school, but he's no dummy and they know that as well.

ADHD =/= insane, disruptive, retarded, etc. Just  to let you know.

I think that parents should do their best to encourage kids to stay off the streets by getting them in sports, clubs, and giving them an occasional needed smack, but don't fucking beat them or whip them.

And don't fucking ignore them either. Sometimes I think that's worse.

[Jasper]

I hated being ignored.  Nothing makes you feel less important than not being noticed.  Attention is probably the most important thing to GIVE (fixed) as a parent.

Just guessing, I'm 20 and childless.

[LMNO]

My dad would pop me on the ass if I did something wrong. Did he beat me until I was black and blue? No. Did I learn a lesson? Yeah, because I don't think he had to do it more than a couple of times in my lifetime, and they were all when I was still in elementary school.

You might consider revising this line.

[AFK]

I hated being ignored.  Nothing makes you feel less important than not being noticed.  Attention is probably the most important thing to GIVE (fixed) as a parent.

Just guessing, I'm 20 and childless.

You are driving the correct motorcycle with child safety seat.  (yes I know there is no such thing)
This is largely why kids act out when they do.  Not necessarily because they aren't getting enough attention, but because they aren't getting it when they want it. 

But moreover, giving attention, meaningful attention, to a child can help reinforce self-worth, in my mind.  Especially when you observe what the child reacts to.  If you go outside to play catch with you child and she is constantly stopping to look at the bugs crawling on the grass, stop playing catch and explore with her.  I think there are many parents who think doing ANYTHING with a child = giving a child attention.  But if it isn't something the child enjoys or relates to, it's a waste.  That's not to say you don't try to introduce new things like a sports activity, artistic expression, etc. 

Anyway, that was a longwinder version  of IAWTC

[Jasper]

No, you make a point.  Attention is different than mentally engaging someone.

[Jenne]

I have two parents who parented WAY differently than I do.  And similarly in several aspects as I am still a product of my ubringing.

My parents did NOT praise.  Did NOT bring into focus strengths.  Instead, they harped and griped, bitched and bullied on weaknesses.  If I had to fault my parents on ANYthing when I was growing up, it's that they always thought the measure of my ego needed balancing out with their spoon-feeding of how imperfect and fucked-up I was (and my younger brothers as well).

So while I was well aware of my own particular gifts and strengths (they were stated as matter of fact not necessarily as things to hone and find skills in), I was continuously urged to modify my behavior to improve and lessen the negatives of being ME.  Verbal shit-kicking, friends and foes, is just as painful in a LOT of ways as being ignored and having the crap beat out of you.

I was rather lucky that my parents CARED what I did...they just had no way of doing this caring productively.  Religion and its practice took the place of actual ENGAGEMENT in my life.  My parents just put me on remote control for the most part while I was in school.  Which worked well for me since I was really too self-disciplined to ever fuck up anything real and basically just did what I was asked/supposed to for the most part.

The rub came with my brothers who almost flunked out of high school, each of them, and neither of them have a college degree to this day.  So when Dad when to prison, each of them had been on the family dole in their own way, and now they are eating shit trying to make a living.  For all my parents cared, they still didn't give my brothers very good survival skills or expect them to live beyond their parents' means to any fucking degree whatsofuckingever.

BE that as it may, I'm raising two boys in a VERY mixed cultural setting.  Fucking Afghan meets America.  But in a lot of ways, my husband and I AGREE on more than we disagree on when it comes to my boys.  We don't HIT them, though we do grab them and hold them or squeeze 'em a bit tight to get their attention.  I do yell rather a lot...but I think that's me in general.  I am LOUD.

As for the attention my kids get, I give them A LOT of space...I like a lot of space myself.  And I notice when I am with them, I want to micromanage them...so it's better when they play, they have their own games and play them.  But I know their friends, I'm in their classrooms, very heavily involved in their school lives.  My kids aren't ignored per se, but I'm not in their assholes, I just know what the fuck is going on.

It's a tenuous balance at best, and I doubt I'm much of an expert at all.  If anything, my kids are AN EXTENTION OF WHO I AM.  They are like my arm, my foot, my finger.  I know them, they are not only of my body, but they are the closest thing to me there is without being ME myself.  I sort of own them, but they are things that grow and progress beyond my own scope and control.  It's cool, scary and wonderful all at the same time.

The love I have for them...it's like loving your own intestines or lungs.  It's so a part of you, that you don't question the need or want of it.  It's just THERE.

There's no other way to describe my children for me.  I need them, I love them and I nourish them as best as I can.  But they are still their own entities that cause wonder, entertainment, inspiration and consternation.

[kalthir]

Not to ignore the inherent danger in the phrase, but..."greater good".

[East Coast Hustle]

im sayin tho - if you had to do it then you have to do it

tho i still cant think of any situations where it would be necessary

Pepper started wigging out hard at the tail end of a really heavy acid trip. He's 6'4 and weighed about 190 at the time, and he started trying to wrestle people to the ground and bite them. not a good scene. I was tripping balls too, but I still had some presence of mind left. People were threatening to call 911, and since I was the one who sold everyone the acid, I REALLY didn't want the cops involved, at least not while I was still there and still holding. One of the girls who lived at the house we were in tried to get Pepper to calm down, and he bit her thumb. He was trying to bite THROUGH her thumb, and she was screaming her fucking head off. Shit was about to reach the point from which no good things can concievably happen. I grabbed Pepper's head and began to pry his jaws open, freeing the foolish girl's thumb. Pepper never skipped a beat, he just decided to replace her thumb with mine. Reflex twitched at the last nanosecond and his front teeth delivered a painful glancing blow to my thumbnail as I yanked my digit out of harm's way. People in the background conferring in fearful whispers, sure to call the aforementioned authorities any time now. I stood straight up and grabbed Pepper's chin with my left hand. Turned his face toward mine and sized up direction and distance. Right Cross. Hard. Harder than I've ever hit anyone before or since. Broke one of his front teeth in half on my ring. He sways for a second, like a boxer in a bad hollywood slo-mo shot. Doesn't fall. Shakes his head and looks at me, eyes clearing.

"Dude..."

"Dude. Get your shit together and keep it there. You're about to get us busted."

"Sorry, dude. I hit my head when we had to climb down the rocks to get out of the way of that train and got stuck in some fucked up loop."

"You cool?"

"I'm cool. I'm over it."

"A'ight then."

****

About a year later, I came back from my first summer working in Maine to find my old partner living under a bench in the backyard of a church, shooting speed and working small-time hustles to feed his habit.

I beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Worked him over until he was too hurt to sleep outside. Told him I'd either take him to the hospital or his parents' house. Dropped him on the front step of their suburban mini-mansion, honked the horn, and took off.

Now he's taken over the family business, has a wife and a house in a nice neighborhood in the city. Alpha status restored.

That, to me, seems like an acceptable case of beating the shit out of a loved one. But it's gotta be a pretty exceptional situation, not just an attempt at behavior modification.