The 90’s were a different time, where parents and/or your guardian (in my case) would put the fear of God in you just by the mention of a whupping. Let me tell you this getting a whupping from my uncle was nothing pretty. No one in the house wanted that. Fortunately for me, I was a good kid with good grades who always followed the rules. So I didn’t have to worry about getting a whupping. However, here is a story where the possibility of getting a deserved whupping made me exercise my emotional intelligence for the first time.
Story Time…
If you didn’t already know this, I grew up for most of my ‘teenage mutant ninja turtle’ life in Lauderhill, Florida where I lived with my uncle and some of his neices/nephews. For the most of that time, I would always avoid any whuppings because I colored within the lines of the apartment rules. All the other kids in the house knew this and eagerly anticipated the day that they would witness me in a postion they often put themselves in.
My uncle is an entrepreneur that travels back and forth to Montego Bay, Jamaica very often to tend to his multiple businesses on the Island. His number 1 rule was not to play any sports with bouncing balls in the house because it would inevitably break something pricey.
Everyone knew my favorite sport to watch in the house was tennis. This is a sport I am absolutely obsessed with. Andre Agassi was my favorite tennis player at the the time and during the early to mid 90’s, he would provide some of the most entertaining matches with his rival, Pete Sampras. They had some incredible matches of which Sampras got the best of him with his monstrosity of a serve but their part in my brush with belt came from the post excitement of watching their match on a Sunday evening.
Well it was the 1995 US Open Grand Slam Finals, and Agassi had been playing some of his best tennis that year. I was 13 at that time and owned a few tennis balls from hanging out at the courts by the park. In the drama of any tennis match, I would have one in my hand doing tricks. Bouncing the balls off my bicep into the palm of my hand, throwing it of the pop corn ceiling and catching it and also lighty bouncing the tennis ball off the glass sliding doors to the patio. It was nothing crazy. It was my thing, so no one thought to much of it because it was a tennis ball and we played with a tennis ball multiple times with our uncle home and he didn’t mind. However, this time he was away and was scheduled to come back the next day.
To make an aleady longer story short, the match was drama filled and invigorating throughout. Agassi lost in 4 entertaining sets and the match ignited the passion within me. So I kept telling the other kids that, even though Agassi lost against Sampras, he would come back stronger the next time. Then I mentioned, “But did you see that rally in the last set. It was epic.” Then I would toss the ball up like a serve and catch it and do so more tricks. One of those times, one of the other kids who also had one of my tennis balls was trying to do the bicep trick and lost the ball under the couch. So the next time I threw my tennis ball up he smacked it out of the air and it bounced off the glass sliding door. Before it hit the glass coffee table, I reached over the table to catch it, lost my balance, and fell into the table breaking it instantly with the metal frame that it rested on.
Immediately I felt a tidal wave fear crash into my entire being. All I could hear was the assertiveness of uncle’s voice echoing in my ear. “NO PLAYING BASKETBALL, TENNIS, Fútbol (soccer), or FOOTBALL IN THE APT WHEN I’M NOT HERE!” And simultaneously I saw the ‘Oh shit’ faces on the other kids change to a devious smile and then a ‘you are finally going to get yours’ laugh of satisfaction because they knew what breaking the coffee table meant. Rishone was finally going to get a whupping.
As I cleaned up my mess, that is all I could think about and the other kids made sure that I would never forget what was coming. About an hour after cleaning up the table, my uncle called from Jamaica to do a normal evening check in and give us the flight information for the next day.
Inside I was panicking because it was somewhat of a moderatey quick call and the oldest in the house took the call with the room door closed. I thought he would tell him immediately but there were other important things that kept him from telling him. You bet the other kids were listening at the door to hear if there were any reactions they could use to tease me or the rest of the night. However, he didn’t tell him at that point, and he knew that it would be even worst for my uncle to walk in and find out the table had been broken, and no one told him about it prior to him getting home.
The kids were relentlessly teasing me that evening, and though I was scared of the consequences ahead, I made it seem like It wasn’t a big deal even though we all knew it was.
I barely slept that night. I was consumed by the fear of getting that whupping for breaking a direct rule that resulted in exactly what it the rule was put in place to prevent. However, after thinking about it and working through all the scenarios in my head, I came up with a solution. As soon as my uncle walked in the apartment, I would greet him and then tell him that I have something to tell him.
Again the other kids were ready to witness me get this Olympic first place ‘ass whupping and to be honest I was prepared for it. However, I also knew that my uncle valued honesty, accountability, and directness. Therefore as the tension built to it’s highest and my uncle finally turned the key to get in the apartment, he opened the door and dragged his carry-on on luggage in and closed the front door to the apartment. He then walked passed the kitchen where the kids ran and hugged him with smiles as wide as the 6 lane Florida Turnpike highway. All teeth with a muschievious smile in my direction. I waited till he got to the hallway that connected the dining room, living room and the bedrooms. I greeted him there before he headed to his bedroom, and then followed behind him. The other kids stared at me like they had won the US Open that night and was acting out my fall into the table quietly as my uncle turned his attention away from the living room on his way to his room.
As he entered his room, I felt the tension from the other kids faces and eyes. So I entered the room and closed the door behind me. As he sat on the end of the bed and started removing his black dress shoes from his feet, I calm explained what happened like this. “I am not going even try to make up any excuses. I broke an important rule yesterday that resulted in me breaking the glass center table. Yes, I was playing with my tennis ball in the apartment and though the details of what happened aren’t important, what matters is that I broke the table because of it. I know that means I’m going to get a whuppin, and I absolutely deserve it. However, I know there is an alternate punishment for my actions that I know the other kids would be fine with and you would also appreciate. I know none of them like to do the dishes after dinner and though I normally make dinner, I will also volunteer to do the dishes so you don’t have to bear the headache of choosing anyone for the next 2 weeks. Most importantly, I am prepared to get my whuppings – so it is up to you at this point.
He paused for a about 3 minutes looking me dead in the face with his freshly dyed mustache and slightly squinted eyes. Yes, at the end of that 3 minutes, I was 33 years old. Meaning it was the longest 3 minutes of my life. However, it slowly changed to a face of admiration. Something I had never experienced before from him when a whuppin was at steak. He told me that he would think about it and asked me to go back to the living room so he could decompress from his flight.
When I walked out of the room without any yelling or the sound of a belt aerodynamically whistling through the air before connecting with a hand or a back end part, everyone was amazed. They looked at me like I was a miracle and in some ways I felt like one. I had done something none of them had ever done before. I broke a rule and escaped the rath of the dreadful whupping. For the rest of the night they sat there quietly and amazed at what I had accomplished.
Now why did I accomplish this? Looking back at that moment, I accomplished this because I showed emotional intelligence. This was the first time I was put in a position to use something that my uncle had been trying to teach all of us. I had witnessed all the other kids getting a whupping not for what they did but not understand the lesson he was desperately trying to teach them. So because I knew this from observing their whuppins, I approached it differently. Instead of waiting for him to find out from one of the other kids or worst on his own, I made sure he heard it from my mouth first with no blaming or inclusion of anyone but myself.
So I identifed my part in it all, compartmentalized my fear of the punishment and was able to develop a clear solution that benefited everyone. I also empathized with how my uncle would feel about me breaking the rule, took full responsibility for my actions and accepted the punishment but not before suggesting a practical solution.
My journey with emotional intelligence started way before that, but that was the first time I was able to exercise it. Everyone is on their own journey with emotional intelligence, and it takes a life time to become master all the components. However, that scenario forced me to think differently through my emotions. It taught me than even through fear, frustration, guilt, embarassment, and ridicule you can collect your thoughts, take responsibility for your part in what ever happened, communicate effectively, and move forward with a solution that everyone can appreciate.
That is what emotional Intelligence is – Identifying your emotions, and managing the emotions of those around you but also being able to communicate effectively to find solutions instead of focusing on the problem. Maybe you are in a situation right now where your emotions are pushing you to react rather than respond. Take some time to thoroughly think things through and find a solution that not only works for you but benefits everyone. Life is so much better when you respond thoughtfully rather than impulsively reacting. I certainly could have reacted like the other kids and let fear cloud my thoughts but I was able to think and respond intelligently. Now washing dishes for 3 weeks was not enjoyable at all but it was certainly worth the recognition of the first kid in the house to not get a whupping even though it was deserved. Till this day, I remember those faces after coming out of that room. That was a US Grand Slam Victory that sparked a new way of approaching my emotions.