So I left her alone. I left the school. Actually I was thrown out because they discovered I didn't live in the district. My mother thought I needed a good straightening out so she put me in a Catholic high school. Little did she know what was coming.
True, the priests were much more into discipline then the public school. One time I committed some infraction and was sent to the deans office. A very spartan affair, it contained one desk, one chair and one rug. The defendant centred himself on the rug while the dean enumerated his offence(s).
In my case, he came around his desk and sat on it facing me. "Mr. Allen, it has come to my attention that you interfered in your teachers presentation this morning." It eas explained that it was rude and inconsiderate to disrupt class. He had stood up and was pacing in front of me as he spoke. On his fourth or fifth pass he stopped and punched me in the stomach to punctuate his sentence.
I was lucky. The worst punishment was to be forced to play soccer with the priests after school.
As is well known, those who live under oppression develop greater skills of deception and covert movements. My friends and I developed methods too manipulate the priests into releasing us for the day. From there a trip to Tijuana or the beach or Hollywood followed.
Friday and Saturday Nights were reserved for our more outlandish games. I'm pretty sure we invented 'Street Surfing' in the back of a pickup. Parties were common. Playing hide and seek with the police was a favorite game.
So keep in mind for your children, don't go too heavy on them, or you'll never really know what they're doing.
