I am 6 years old sitting in church on a Sunday morning at Mt. Zion Pentacostal C.O.G.I.C. (Church of God in Christ, for my Catholic brothers and sisters). As I sat in church, out of tradition and custom in my household, I grew weary of the drawn out church announcements and decide to entertain myself as a 6 year old boy with less than a 15 minute attention span. My father, who was on the church deacon board, sat on the side platform next to the main pulpit while I sat next to my mother in the congregation. So as I proceeded to entertain myself by taking a church fan and using it as a drum stick on the wooden pughs, my mother reaches over, takes the fan from me and slaps me on the hand as she tells me to sit back and be quite. Ten minutes go by and I’m still not entertained to my satisfaction. I find an ink pen in the envelope holder on the back of the pugh and proceed to continue my solo concert. This time not only does my mother take the ink pen and slap me , but my father sees me from the side platform and motions me to go out in the church lobby where I will meet him; I knew what was about to happen. He then took me down to the restroom and proceeded to tell to me that I need learn to sit down and be quite in church essentially just because I knew better. He then turned me around and “whooped” me on my behind.
Now, as child I could never reason in my mind