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I remember my dad telling a story about my grandpa (his dad) holding on to his shirt collar with one hand and repeatedly hitting him in the face with the other. My dad was probably 13 or 14. It was bad enough that he returned a punch and knocked his dad down. He felt guilty about that for decades afterwards. He probably still does. I don't know how someone feels guilty for the one time they defended themselves against a father who brutally beat all of his children on a regular basis.
That's a sad story. I know lots of sad stories. I've lived some of them. Long ago, I made it a life goal to write happier ones. When I discipline my kids, which I sometimes have to do, I try to use it as a learning opportunity. Just ask my oldest how many times she's had to do community service because she made poor choices.
The moral lesson I hope she's learned from those experiences is that you should contribute positive things to the world instead of negative things but if/when you fail, you're obligated to rectify that to the best of your ability.
It's my job to teach my kids how to be good people and I won't be able to do that if they fear me.
I'm not sure how I feel about community service as a punishment. At the surface I think it's a good idea, someone did something stupid so they have to go help out somewhere when they'd probably rather be doing something else, and it's definitely a better alternative to beating your kids. I just feel like ultimately the people there should want to be there helping out, and forcing them to create a kind of divide between them and the people they're supposed to be helping.
As a reckless teenager I had to do some court ordered community service and got to pick where I went, so I picked the shelter my mom and I were staying at thinking it'd be a breeze. On my first day there I heard some of the most vulgure things about the people staying there, I got the rundown on who everyone ordered to be there wished wasn't alive, and how everyone generally didnt want to be there helping these people and would rather be anywhere else. I kept my head down while we were there so no one really recognized me, I honestly don't think they saw us as people worth remembering anyway. I switched to a food bank after a few days because I couldn't take it. It was a little better because most of the people working there were actual volunteers.
Not knocking your parenting method at all, I'm sure (I hope) your oldest isn't spitting in a big pot of soup out of spite for being forced to be there.
Also kudos to you for not trying to scare your kids into submission. Everyone that I've seen try to use fear as a parenting tool has in my eyes failed and it shows through their kids, who you really can't blame. I'm currently trying to get a neighborhood kid to stop coming around because his parents come over and scream too much, so the kid acts out, but I can't figure out how to do that without making him feel like he's just a bad kid who we don't want around, it seems like he'd be a good kid with a little love in his life. He's just a kid and the bad shit he does is entirely the parents fault.