Exquisite Arts Magazine Vol 1 - July/ August 2016 | Page 14

HERE I STAND
Ute Carson | United States

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Maria was a shy 8th grader. When called upon to read aloud her throat turned dry, her stomach queasy. Going to the
blackboard in front of the whole class terrified her. She was a good speller but when asked to write on the board, her
hand would shake and the letters would tumble all over themselves. Maria was happiest bent over her blue-lined
notebook, earnestly composing stories about rabbits and horses and the antics of her puppets.
Maria’s small body was topped with a head of full brown hair which her mother harnessed into two thick braids, and
when time allowed, then coiled them around her head. The braids were a temptation for many of Maria’s classmates and
when someone ran by her, a quick yank was inevitable. Maria’s dreamy dark eyes filled with tears when the tugging was
too harsh. “Please don’t do that,” she would plead.
Classroom seating was arranged so that the tallest pupils sat in back. Tiny Maria ended up in the very front row. Short,
chubby Heinz sat right behind her. He was smart and as an only child of wealthy parents, spoiled. He believed he could
get away with any prank and nobody seemed able to curb his nonstop talking.
Physical punishment was permitted in German schools in the 1950s, though not all teachers used it. Mr. Bankwitz a
history and gym teacher, was the exception. When a girl misbehaved, Mr. Bankwitz had her stand at her desk with
outstretched fingertips which he smacked with a slender reed. The boys he took to the hallway and gave them a stinging
lash or two across the bottom with a leather strap.
Maria grew up in a loving family. Her parents had repeatedly petitioned against corporal punishment in the school. “It’s
simply wrong,” her mother exclaimed. Maria had never been spanked, and she winced every time she saw the swollen
fingers of her girlfriends. When a boy received a whipping, the sound of the strap made her recoil. She leaned very close
to her notebook, her nose touching the pages and covered her ears. She disliked having her hair pulled but knew that if
she reported it, she would have to witness the perpetrator’s punishment. Being bullied was bad but the whippings were
worse.
Heinz got a laugh out of the class every time he pulled Maria’s braids. When she let out a plaintive “Ouch” he beamed
triumphantly and turned to his approving audience. But he tormented Maria only before the start of class or after the
closing bell had rung.
Mr. Bankwitz was a canny observer who often arrived early on the school grounds and then lingered in the hallway.
Several times he had watched Heinz from afar. One day when Maria’s hair was fluttering loose like a horse’s mane,
Heinz had more fun than ever wrapping a few strands around his fingers and squealing, “Snagged you!”
When Mr. Bankwitz entered the classroom everyone scrambled to their seats. Slowly, he put his briefcase on his desk,

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