Looking back from today’s perspective, an obvious question arises.
Why didn’t children simply say no?
If a headmistress told a pupil to bend over for the slipper or hold out a hand for the cane, what would have happened if that child simply refused?
The answer is more complicated than it might first appear.
One contributor argued that in earlier generations, refusing what was considered a deserved punishment would have been regarded by many pupils as cowardly. Corporal punishment was accepted by a large proportion of parents, particularly during a period when it was commonly used in schools and physical punishment was also widespread at home.
But by the 1980s, attitudes were beginning to change.
At a school where corporal punishment had already become unusual, children might not have regarded refusal in quite the same way. The unquestioned authority once enjoyed by teachers and headmistresses was gradually beginning to weaken.
There are certainly recollections of pupils resisting punishment.
A child who knew in advance that a caning was coming could refuse to attend school. That presented another problem, however. Unless alternative educational arrangements were made, prolonged absence could place parents in difficulties, and the punishment might simply be waiting when the pupil eventually returned.
Most punishments were not announced days beforehand anyway.
A child misbehaved, was sent to a senior female teacher or the headmistress, and was dealt with there and then. There was often very little time to consider the alternatives.
Technically, a pupil could run away.
In reality, schools were responsible for children during school hours, and female staff would be expected to prevent a pupil from simply disappearing from the premises.
Physical resistance was another matter entirely.
An older teenager might theoretically have been capable of physically resisting a female teacher, but doing so could transform a relatively minor disciplinary matter into something far more serious. Refusing to accept a punishment was one thing; physically fighting a teacher was quite another.
For a frightened eleven-year-old girl, however, such possibilities could be largely theoretical.
The girl slippered for chewing gum in 1985 explained this particularly well.
She didn’t weigh up the alternatives.
She didn’t stand in the headmistress’s office considering whether she should accept, negotiate or resist.
She was frightened.
She respected — and feared — the authority of the headmistress.
When the headmistress told her what was going to happen, she obeyed.
“It didn’t come into question to refuse to bend over,” she later recalled.
That simple observation probably explains more about traditional school discipline than pages of rules and regulations ever could.
The authority of the headmistress was not merely written into school regulations.
It existed in the child’s mind.
For generations of pupils, being summoned to the headmistress’s office was frightening before anything had even happened. The closed office door, the formal surroundings and the knowledge that the headmistress had the power to punish could be intimidating enough on their own.
The same could apply in the classroom. A female teacher did not necessarily have to threaten or physically force a child to comply. Her position of authority, combined with the expectations of the school and the attitudes of the period, could be enough.
Children had generally been taught that teachers were adults to be obeyed. Challenging them could bring further trouble at school and, in many families, additional punishment when the child arrived home.
That is why the modern question — “Why didn’t they just refuse?” — cannot easily be answered using today’s expectations.
For many children at the time, refusal simply did not feel like a realistic option.
Sometimes the fear of punishment was as powerful as the punishment itself.
