would discharge tough love to me.
My school teacher would normally use colored checks, along with additional comments to coordinate with our behavior for the day. Green was superior, yellow was satisfactory, orange was poor, and red was atrocious.
“If you don’t come home with a green check, you’re going to get a whooping when you get out of class!”
When I was released from school, I knew that my life was coming to an end because of the orange check I received. I started to bethink on all of the stuff I had done previously, as I walked to the car in front of the school. As I began to buckle my seatbelt inside the car, Father asked to see my folder (where the discipline checks are kept).
“Hmm...Orange check, Couldn’t pay attention in class today.”
“Kendall, how come you couldn’t pay attention today?”
I guess what they say about the eyes being windows to the soul is true. When he looked at me I could see flames being commenced inside his pupils. The look I gave him back was like a deer in front of headlights at night. Speechless, I couldn’t think of anything to say for my mischievous behavior. After every whooping I always received a speech or lesson. Many of the times it was about what I did wrong, and why I shouldn’t do it for future occasions.
Discipline came to me very early from my father, for that all his life he had been a “red check.” With no adult supervision, he started drinking and smoking at the age of 10. Realizing from his past decisions, he always tells me that if he would have had someone to tell him what was right from wrong then maybe he wouldn’t have went down that pa...