A 1950's An English Working Class Mum and discipline

My mum Jeanie was one in a million she was born in 1919 the eldest of ten children, and you could tell right away she was used to being obeyed. In many ways Jeanie was no different from many of the mothers of that time but is some areas she had some novel ideas.

One of the areas where her approached differed from most was in the area of children biting. My brother David and I were brought up in the Meadows a working class area in the city of Nottingham famous for Robin Hood and Nottingham Forest (The name of the best football team in the world at least according to my brother back then). Biting was not a big problem back then but whenever it did occur it was frowned upon and dealt with right away. I can still remember two incidents where mum took matters into her own hands both incidents were treated differently but both of her approaches produced the same results, in that both children never took a bite out of anyone again.

The first incident concerns my brother and his best friend, they would be around seven at the time, and both boys were playing together nicely in our back yard. Mum and I were inside the house when we heard a loud yell and my brother came running into the house crying. I can’t remember quite how it happened but somehow his friend had bitten my brother right on the end of his nose.

It was a funny place for someone to bite but there for all to see was a perfect ring of teeth marks on my brother's nose. Of all the bite marks I have seen, and I have seen quite a few this is the only set of teeth marks on a nose that I have seen.

My brother was sobbing and telling mum all about what had happened whilst his friend in the mean time had run off home.

Mum wiped up my brother’s tears and comforted him until he stopped crying then I was dispatched to find his friend and bring him back with me to face mum and the consequences of his actions.

I quickly found his friend and took him back to our house where mum was waiting to see him. Mum sent me inside to get my dad’s tool box, and at this point the reason for this was unclear to all of us except my mum.

Mum rummaged through the toolbox and triumphantly pulled out a large pair of pliers; she looked my brother's friend right in the eyes and said to him “Do you see theses pliers?” “Yes" he replied “Well if I ever see or hear that you have bitten anyone again I am going to pull out every one of your teeth with them, do you understand me?” “Yes” my brother's friend replied. “Good I am glad we understand one another now off you go.”

It was not long before my brother’s friend's mum was knocking at our door demanding to know why her had come home sobbing saying that my mum was going to take out all his teeth with pliers. My mum showed my brother's friend's mum the lovely set of teeth marks on her son’s nose and told her how they got there.

My brother's friend by this time was hiding behind his mum looking shamefaced as his mum was given the gory details. After his mum had heard what happened she took her son by the arm and said that if in the future she found out that he bitten someone she would personally take him to see my mum and hold him while she took his teeth out with the pliers. .

How different things are today it would be social services and the police that would turn up to sort things out there would be case conferences psychological reports and both children would be taken into care and the adults locked up meanwhile the child would still have a biting problem to deal with.

The second incident concerns me, I was around seven years old and I was playing in the street when I got into a bit of a fight with a boy who was around the same age as me. During the tussle of slapping and hair pulling that goes on in these things I grabbed the boy’s arm and bit him. The boy ran off and told his mum who standing on her doorstep talking to a neighbour at the time. I ran back to near my house but I wasn’t quick enough, the boy’s mum, an Amazon of a woman, got hold of me by the shoulders and started shouting at me and banging my shoulders against the wall which was behind me.

All the noise and commotion soon brought my mum to our front door where she soon took in what was happening. My mum was only a slight woman barely over eight stone but the boy’s mum was a really tall well built woman and very imposing looking.

The boy’s mum dwarfed my mum but my mum was not a woman that was easily intimidated. My mum stood her ground and demanded that the boy's mum let go of me. I was relieved mum was here now and I was safe, well that’s what I thought, but little did I know that soon I would be wishing that the boy’s mum had sorted me out.

My mum listened to what the boy’s mum had to say then she called the boy over and looked at his arm where the evidence of what I had done was plain for all to see.

“Right” said my mum, “You get over here right now” reluctantly I edged towards my mum who grabbed me by the arm then she said to the boy “you get over here too. “

The boy looked no more willing than I did to get close to my mum but like me he obeyed her and he came over to where I was being held by my mum.

What happened next took us all by surprise mum held my arm tight with both her hands and said to the boy “Right I want you to bite her as hard as she bit you.”

The poor boy did not look at all pleased by this turn of events but the justice being meted out seemed to meet with the approval of his mum who at this point was urging to do as my mum has told him to.

The boy bit me and it wasn’t too bad he didn’t bite that hard, so I was thinking that it was all over and it hadn't been too bad, but it was far from being over.

My mum inspected my arm and said that the boy had not bitten hard enough as the marks he made could barely be seen while the marks I had made on his arm could be seen even yards away.

The poor boy was told to repeat the bite but this time he was to bite as hard as he could, again my arm was held firmly so that I couldn’t pull it away.

The poor boy by now wishing the same as me that it was all over and done with, bit down on my arm this time will all his might.

He bit me so hard in fact that a part of one of his front teeth was left behind in my arm when he drew his mouth away. Even today 60 years on you can see the faint scar that his bite left behind in my arm.

I don’t think my mum expected him to bite so hard nor for there to be any blood but everyone retired feeling that justice had been served.

Like my brother's friend I never bit anyone again, through this experience I learn to have empathy for the boy I bit and I learned that my actions do have consequences which I will have to pay.

Both of these approaches had the desired affects in that neither I nor John ever bit anyone one else a far as I know.  Neither of us had any long term problems resulting from this again this is as far as I know, mum had done her best and in this case with children born in the forties her best was effective and was good enough.

Times have changed and the way we deal with the problem of children biting others is different, and I believe that my mum’s methods used on today’s children would not yield such positive results.

If you enjoyed this hub I have put links to some of my other hubs that deal with similar material below.

All these Hubs have the common theme of coming from a Working Class perspective which differs quite a lot from that of the Middle Class and which has virtually nothing in common with the Upper Class perspective.

There is one period in modern times when all three classes had experiences in common and that was during the second world war.

I hope that enjoyed your foray into Working Class England if you did please leave a comment perhaps some feed back or if I didn't cover what you were looking for let me know and perhaps I can do another hub about that,

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• Working Class life in the 1940’s and 1950´s Britain ~ Train Travel
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• A Victorian Woman of Substance
• Stay at Home Mom or Working Mom? The choice of a Working Class Mum
• Stay at Home Mom or Working Mom? Was it Worth it?
• Stay at Home Mom or Working Mom? How my kids felt about the choice I made
• A 1950's Working Class Mum and Discipline
• Working Class Girl in Singapore in the late 1960's
• Bonfire Night in a Working Class area in the 1950’s