Monday Memories...The Black Desk

Our daughter Suzy is 18 months younger than her older sister. The girls were only a year apart when it came to school as one has her birthday in the summer and the other has a winter birthday.

Suzy was so ready to go to kindergarten. She wanted to have school friends have artwork to put on the refrigerator and sit at a desk.

She loved every minute of it. She especially loved her kindergarten teacher Miss Carlson. Miss Carlson was a new teacher in her twenties and full of enthusiasm. Suzy idolized her immediately and we soon heard many " My teacher says," statements from her.

One morning I got a phone call from Miss Carlson asking me to come to school and pick up Suzy who was crying uncontrollably. Miss Carlson assured me that she had not been hurt or injured but she could not be comforted, and she would explain when I got to school.

I hurried to school and found Suzy still sobbing in the school office. Suzy was a tiny child with huge sad eyes and crocodile tears pouring down her cheeks. She ran into my arms and between sobs said, "I had to sit at the black desk!"

Miss Carlson explained to me that she had left the room for a few minutes and told the children to sit quietly at their desks and work on their handouts. She had left another student in charge to monitor the class.

Suzy sat next to her very best friend Cherie and forgot about the quiet rule.

When Miss Carlson got back to the room, she was told that Suzy had been talking. The punishment was to be isolated from " her best friend Cherie" and to have to sit at the BLACK DESK in the rear of the room.

The punishment, isolation, and humiliation of sitting at the black desk were more than more Suzy could stand. Suzy was crushed that she had fallen out of grace with her beloved teacher and the longer she sat at the black desk the deeper the wound became on her very tender heart. At first, it was silent tears spilling from her eyes, then it was sniffing, and finally uncontrollable sobs.

Miss Carlson had repeatedly told Suzy that it was alright and that she wasn't mad at her. But the damage was already done, and Suzy could not be consoled. Finally, out of desperation she had taken her to the office and called me. We both agreed that Suzy had been traumatized enough for that day, so I took her home.

After a lot of cuddle time, we were able to talk about following the rules. I told her that her teacher still loved her, Cherie was still her best friend, and she would be able to sit at her regular desk in the morning.

Has your child ever been traumatized by a punishment at school?