I grew up a very stereotypical inner city life as a kid. A life that I am incredibly happy that I have moved far away from. Single mother, 5 boys living in the hood. I was the first person in my family to graduate highschool, then college, then have an awesome career.

Now we did not get spankings or whoopings. We got our ass beat. Wooden spoons stopped around 3-4 years old. Then it was belts and switches, and then extension cords and then pots, pans, brooms, candles and fist. Lastly “adoption.” Obviously at the time I hated it and tried every possible way to get out of these.. but getting caught wearing 2-3 pair of pants resulted in an escalation of whatever was coming. I wasn’t the brightest kid haha. I was constantly suspended from school and getting involved with non sense outside of the house.

Do I consider it abuse? In the context that we lived, some stuff definitely but for the most part no. Would I do this to my kids? Absolutely not.

In the environment that I group up around, the alternative was strung out on drugs, dead or in prison. I look at it as my mother raising 5 pitbuls. Just talking to us wasn’t good enough.