The Battle Over the Paddle

One day in the spring of 2016, Kemyriah Patie, a first-grader at Fair Elementary School in Louisville, Mississippi, was accused of saying something inappropriate to another student.

Three teachers administered the punishment. Two held Kemyriah down while she squirmed and screamed, and a third used a wooden paddle to strike her repeatedly on the backside and legs. Her mother, Shawanda Patie, found out about it that day after school.

“I was in an outrage,” Patie says. When she saw black-and-blue bruises all over the backs of her daughter’s legs, she took her to the emergency room.

“My baby couldn’t walk right for a week and a half,” she says. “My child was a straight-A student, and they made her fear school.”

Corporal punishment in schools remains legal in 22 states (see map). While its use is declining, it happens more than many people realize: According to the Department of Education, about 110,000 students were physically punished—usually paddled—in school during the 2013-14 school year, the latest for which data is available.  

But the practice is still hotly debated, and critics have sought to end it.

One day in the spring of 2016, Kemyriah Patie, a first-grader at Fair Elementary School in Louisville, Mississippi, was accused of saying something inappropriate to another student.

Three teachers administered Kemyriah’s punishment. Two held her down while she squirmed and screamed. A third used a wooden paddle to strike her backside and legs repeatedly. Her mother, Shawanda Patie, found out about it that day after school.

“I was in an outrage,” Patie says. When she saw black-and-blue bruises all over the backs of her daughter’s legs, she took her to the emergency room.

“My baby couldn’t walk right for a week and a half,” she says. “My child was a straight-A student, and they made her fear school.” 

Corporal punishment in schools remains legal in 22 states (see map). While its use is declining, it happens more than many people realize. About 110,000 students were physically punished in school during the 2013-14 school year, the latest for which data is available. And they were usually paddled, according to the Department of Education.

But the practice is still hotly debated, and critics have sought to end it.

In 1977, the Supreme Court upheld corporal punishment in schools, ruling in Ingraham v. Wright that it did not constitute “cruel and unusual punishment” under the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution. Despite that ruling, the following two decades saw a sharp decline in the use of corporal punishment: Between 1974 and 1994, 25 states banned its use in schools. In 2015, then-Secretary of Education John King wrote to all state governors and school system chiefs, advising them to end corporal punishment.

In the states that still permit paddling as a form of school discipline, which are mostly in the South, many individual school districts have banned its use.

More than 100 countries prohibit corporal punishment in schools, including Canada and almost all nations in Europe.

In 2016, six states—Arkansas, Colorado, Indiana, Louisiana, Maine, and Texas—considered laws banning corporal punishment in schools, but none of those bills passed. Last year, Oklahoma and Louisiana banned corporal punishment for disabled students, and Tennessee is considering doing the same. Lawmakers in Arizona are now considering a bill that would ban all corporal punishment in schools.

Many parents and school officials in the South continue to support the practice. Kimberly Zacher, of Dexter, Georgia, wasn’t bothered a bit when her 13-year-old daughter, Kaley, was paddled a few years ago in school for repeatedly failing to do her homework.

In 1977, the Supreme Court upheld corporal punishment in schools, ruling in Ingraham v. Wright that it did not constitute “cruel and unusual punishment” under the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution. Things changed despite that ruling. In fact, the following two decades saw a sharp decline in the use of corporal punishment. Between 1974 and 1994, 25 states banned its use in schools. In 2015, then-Secretary of Education John King wrote to all state governors and school system chiefs. He advised them to end corporal punishment.

Most of the states that still allow paddling as a form of school discipline are in the South. Many individual school districts in these states have banned its use.

More than 100 countries prohibit corporal punishment in schools. Canada and almost all nations in Europe are among them.

In 2016, six states—Arkansas, Colorado, Indiana, Louisiana, Maine, and Texas—considered laws banning corporal punishment in schools. But none of those bills passed. Last year, Oklahoma and Louisiana banned corporal punishment for students with disabilities. Tennessee is considering doing the same. And lawmakers in Arizona are now considering a bill that would ban all corporal punishment in schools.

Many parents and school officials in the South continue to support the practice. Kimberly Zacher, of Dexter, Georgia, is among its supporters. She wasn’t bothered a bit when her 13-year-old daughter, Kaley, was paddled a few years ago in school. Her offense? She repeatedly failed to do her homework. 

“We want her to know that if she does wrong, there’s a consequence for those actions,” Zacher says. “If you take corporal punishment out of the schools, what are you left with? There’s not a lot a teacher or a principal can do to a child to make them understand that when you do things wrong, there are consequences.”

But that argument rings hollow to many who study the effects of corporal punishment on children.

“The evidence is overwhelming,” says Victor Vieth of the Gundersen Center for Effective Discipline in Wisconsin. “We have 50 years of research saying corporal punishment is risky and associated with negative outcomes later in life. And we know there are alternative forms of discipline.”

Elizabeth Gershoff, a developmental psychologist at the University of Texas at Austin, recently analyzed national Department of Education data on corporal punishment in schools. She found that boys are more likely than girls and black students are much more likely than white students to be paddled. Students with disabilities—physical, behavioral, and learning challenges—are much more likely to be paddled than students without disabilities.

“The extent of the disparities by gender, race, and particularly disability status were quite surprising and very troubling,” says Gershoff. Often, she adds, kids are getting paddled for behaviors that are related to their disabilities.

The typical paddle, Gershoff says, is about 24 inches long, 4 inches wide, and a half-inch thick.

“If an adult hit another adult with an object of that size, it would be considered assault with a weapon,” she says.

“We want her to know that if she does wrong, there’s a consequence for those actions,” Zacher says. “If you take corporal punishment out of the schools, what are you left with? There’s not a lot a teacher or a principal can do to a child to make them understand that when you do things wrong, there are consequences.”

But that argument rings hollow to many who study the effects of corporal punishment on children.

“The evidence is overwhelming,” says Victor Vieth of the Gundersen Center for Effective Discipline in Wisconsin. “We have 50 years of research saying corporal punishment is risky and associated with negative outcomes later in life. And we know there are alternative forms of discipline.”

Elizabeth Gershoff, a developmental psychologist at the University of Texas at Austin, recently analyzed national Department of Education data on corporal punishment in schools. She found that boys are more likely than girls and black students are much more likely than white students to be paddled. Students with disabilities are much more likely to be paddled than students without disabilities. That includes those with physical, behavioral, and learning challenges.

“The extent of the disparities by gender, race, and particularly disability status were quite surprising and very troubling,” says Gershoff. Often, she adds, kids are getting paddled for behaviors that are related to their disabilities.

The typical paddle, Gershoff says, is about 24 inches long, 4 inches wide, and a half-inch thick.

“If an adult hit another adult with an object of that size, it would be considered assault with a weapon,” she says.

That’s not how it’s viewed at Robbinsville High School, a small rural school in Robbinsville, North Carolina, which is the only high school in the state that still uses corporal punishment. At Robbinsville, students can choose a paddling instead of an in-school suspension so they don’t miss class. The principal, David Matheson, always calls parents to get their permission first.

Matheson says he’s seen the research that says corporal punishment can be harmful, but he still thinks it’s an effective disciplinary tool.

“I think if more schools did it, we’d have a whole lot better society,” Matheson told National Public Radio. “I do, I believe that.”

That’s not how it’s viewed at Robbinsville High School, a small rural school in Robbinsville, North Carolina. It’s the only high school in the state that still uses corporal punishment. At Robbinsville, students can choose a paddling instead of an in-school suspension. That way they don’t miss class. The principal, David Matheson, always calls parents to get their permission first.

Matheson says he’s seen the research that says corporal punishment can be harmful, but he still thinks it’s an effective disciplinary tool.

“I think if more schools did it, we’d have a whole lot better society,” Matheson told National Public Radio. “I do, I believe that.”