Time Out

At the risk of sounding like a race monger -- the term time out is a white thing. Timeout during the discipline process in middle to lower class black households, at least to me meant where the parent takes a time out from beating your ass. I recall one of the top ten beatings I got as a pre-teen. Report card day fall 1982. Coming home on the school bus, me and my best friend were comparing grades.. and it was like the countdown to Armageddon. He was like dude you might as well just give your Atari to me cause I don't think you going to be using it for a while. I was in denial; complete denial. I figured that ma would be pleased with my two Fs and one D because I played football during the fall. I think the grades were like this -- Math F, Science F, English D, Social Studies B, Physical Education/Health B, and Orchestra A. I was kinda pleased with myself.... Lord, what was I smoking, drinking, sniffing, or inhaling. When I got to the house, I got in at about 2:50 and turned on the TV. The first phone call comes from my Aunt who is wanting to know about my report card. I give her the news and she has a different view than me. "Do you know your mom is going to kill you?" Again, denial kicks in. I offer that football took up most of my time. 3:45, mom walks in all proud. You got your report card? (Note: this was obviously an icebreaker because she taught in the school system where I went to school of course she knew I got my report card) Yeah I got it, I think I did pretty good considering I played football this semester. I hand her the envelope and I see the contortions in my mom's face. She had on a Cheryl Teigs blouse and a long black skirt. What in the world is this? What are you doing with two Fs and a D? -- My response, I don't know how they got there myself. I tried real hard in those classes but I just don't think the teachers like me. The teachers I was accusing social bias included Mrs. Mekenna (math) Mrs. Allen (science) and Mrs. Blank (English) all of whom were white and I am sure were in some of the same classes Moses. I'm going to your principle cause this just doesn't seem right. From my mother's perspective, how could her son who scored in the superior/borderline very superior category of the IQ test make grades like these. One thing to remember, sons in the eyes of their mothers can do no wrong at least up to age 12. So while my mom is driving her camaro to my Jr high school, my aunt shows up to assess the situation. I don't believe it she says. Neither can I-- deniability is a good thing up to a point. At about 4:30 the phone rings. Its my vice principal calling with my mom also on the phone. Tick tick tick. I just hear the clock ticking on the bomb cause my world is about to get blown completely up. I remember the VP saying something about me misleading my mother, and I remember my mother saying we would discuss this matter further when she returned home. Mind you the vice principal was also white so it was safe to conclude that my mom was speaking in the tongue of the educator and concerned parent. Sub titles would be so appropriate at this moment because the sub script would read something like this--"send your soul to heaven because your black ass is mine!" At 4:47 the invisible timer hit 00:00 because that's when mom descended. She came through the door, took off her pumps, put on some dingy white and blue nikes in her long skirt and blouse. Went to the nearest tree which had the freshest green branches rolled back in the house and said, "I'm not beating on any new clothes I just bought! Take off them jeans!" I have never seen a woman move so fast in a long skirt.. Where I ran, it was like she teleported. After the switches broke and I still had yet to cry, she got my belt. She was a little out of breath so she took a time out. My aunt, who was there to observe the whole thing was no advocate at all, she was more like the referee in a wrestling match. After mom got her breath back it was like round two. She broke out the heavy artillery, the shoe. Still no tears.. My aunt was like boy you better start crying for you give your mother a heart attack. I'm going to give her a heart attack? I'm the one catching this monstrous ass whipping and you are concerned about her cardiovascular health? I'd say she was doing pretty damn good. But strangely when my aunt threw the guilt trip on me, I finally decided that I needed to at least fake crying cause I didn't want my mom to have a heart attack.
After I hollered like the world was coming to an end of course we all know the classic lines that follow--stop all that crying for I give you something to cry about. Of course I lost my atari privileges, my other aunt came and repo-ed my violin and threatened to repo my hamster. But that was only the beginning. My business got put on to the damn family pipeline and North South East and West.... Of course the irony now is that I'm completing a PhD and I have a son to throw all the same stuff back on me.....But at least he has time out.