Research has now linked spankings in childhood to mental health issues in adulthood.
So that explains it. My friend sent me this link about a research study published by the American Pediatrics Association that examined 34,000 adults and the longterm effects of spanking and other forms of physical punishment. Apparently, it’s not good.
According to the results, as much as 7 percent of adult mental illness may be attributable to childhood physical punishment. Spanking “ups the risk of major depression by 41 percent, alcohol and drug abuse by 59 percent, and mania by 93 percent, among other findings.”
“Harsh physical punishment was associated with increased odds of mood disorders, anxiety disorders, alcohol and drug abuse/dependence, and several personality disorders.”
Note the use of the adjective “harsh,” which is defined as more than just a smack on the bottom. Harsh would be defined as pushing, grabbing, shoving, slapping, hitting.
I was spanked as a child. Many of my generation were, thanks to the belief that sparing the rod spoiled the child. Based on that theory, we were a humble lot. My mother was prone to trigger-hair temper flareups, which often lead to me being chased around the house with a large spoon or being raged at. I never recall her spanking me, but those dressing downs were enough.
My father, the official enforcer, was much more calculated in doling out his corporal punishment. He had a long-handled, shoe polishing brush with stiff horsehair bristles. Its home was the linen closet in the pink bathroom, next to various hues of thick-packed polish. “The Brush” could strike fear by mere mention of its moniker. When it was deemed that one of us misbehaved, which was pretty much all the time, he would calmly ask another sibling to fetch “The Brush.” That was the scariest part. Oftentimes, punishment was meted out at bedtime, we would be in bed. He would ask the offender to roll over on his or her tummy, and if we didn’t, he had the largest hands in the world, and would easily slip them around our ankles, and flip us swiftly over and, with staccato swats, rap us three or four times. And then kiss us good night.
It was not out of anger, but duty. Oddly, I almost took pity on him.
Years later, I don’t suffer from depression, but I can tell you, I have a hard time polishing my shoes.
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I was spanked as a child, at home and at the late Lakewood Elementary School. I am no worse for it, and can’t believe that the majority of people in that little poll did think it was wrong. A little whack on the tush, usually. Mr. Haney, the principal at Lakewood, had a big mallet with holes in it, which made it hurt worse. Admittedly, that Mr. Haney had to do it more than once in my time there is an indication that the spankings had limited efficacy. But they did make an impression, in more than one way.
I have suffered from depression as an adult, but it’s not from spanking. It’s from the gauntlet I’ve had to run in life, including having both of my parents die when I was a kid.
Oddly, I was just talking about this with my Mom.
I remember being spanked 3 times between age 4-6 by my Dad, and never since. First time, I broke the promise to my parents not to run on the street, thought I’d not be caught but conveniently busted by my father. Second time, I asked someone a few years senior to finish my homework so we could play together. Third time, I made someone climb up a young willow to get some fresh leaves for me. Each time, it was a hard spank on the butt, just once, but hard enough to make an impression.
Today, I do not have depression or alcohol abuse. I have never had them. Witnessing so many teenagers growing up “special” I am actually thankful to my Dad. That three spanks saved many more I could have gotten into. At that young age, kids must learn what is right or wrong, and where the boundary is. They can’t be left with the hope of pushing for the eventual victory. I don’t believe in harsh punishment as in beating, but a memorable spank to get the message across is a good thing.
I was spanked by my father starting before or about the age of 2 yrs old. He “reminisces” about what a “stubborn & willful toddler” I was for pulling the knobs off his precious stereo, time and time again, even after he would “slap my little hands, each time I did it”.
I remember being 8 yrs old, basically the only girl in the neighbor with 11 boys to play with. I was late coming down the block for supper, so he drove down the street, jumped out of the car, put me over his knee, bared my butt, and slapped me several times in front of a neighbor boy!!!!
I hate my father for many reasons, but his physical & mental abuse of me is my biggest reason for struggling with anger & depression on & off for 20 yrs +. I’m against corporal punishment for any child. Time-outs and revoking privileges should be enough. If not, get professional help.
I was spanked as a child, and at 45, I have never been an alcoholic, am not depressed, and suffer no mania of any sort. I am glad my parents (mostly my mother) spanked me to teach me right from wrong. It also taught me respect, which is lacking in the youth of today.
Personally, I feel time-outs and revoking privileges are not strong enough punishments. I am not saying beat your child, but a good swat after they have been told what they did wrong and why they are being punished will remind them the next time they think about misbehaving.