Way Back

When I was at school we had a strange disciplinary system.

It worked on an allocation of what they called praises and warnings.

If you were well behaved, you would occasionally be awarded with a praise. Which meant having your name written on the black/white board under the heading "praised".

And if you were misbehaved (in the teacher's eyes) you would get a warning. If you managed to gain 3 warnings you would be removed from the class. And if you racked up enough warnings you would eventually be excluded.

I think that the whole system was created to deter bad behaviour.

But in reality it had the opposite effect.

Nobody wanted to recieve a praise and have their name exhibited for all to see their goody two-shoes achievment.

A warning on the other hand would represent a refusal to comply. You did'nt have to do much to get a warning.

Insult someone
Cause a ruckus
Refuse to comply with whatever it is you were supposed to do.

So to get a warning, was to get a badge of honour to represent your rebelliousness.

In later life this is still entrenched in my mind.

On the rare occasion that I do recieve some sort of praise. I cherish it, but it does'nt feel quite right.

And on the days when I am inevitably warned of my wrong doing through words like...

"I dont think you should be doing that"

Or

"You've messed up again"

I can't help but feel the slight warmth of rebellion's hand as she pats my back.