Janet was 43. She'd been a widow for more than two years, and for all of that time she realized how hopelessly incapable she was of controlling the misbehavior of her only child, her daughter Melanie. Janet's late husband had tried to discipline the girl, by grounding her and cutting off her allowance, but he'd had little success. And then Janet, on her own, had had no success at all.
Melanie had had brushes with the law throughout her teens over such things as shoplifting and marijuana possession, but she continued to hang out with other delinquent kids and got into trouble on a regular basis. Somehow she'd managed to avoid having a criminal record, despite showing no remorse (except briefly, in courtrooms) over her actions. She'd managed to graduate from high school, but only with the help of some generous grading by teachers who were eager to help her get on with her life somewhere else.
Melanie was now attending a private boarding college for young women. She was not there by choice.
Janet had heard about the college from a Social Worker who had been assigned by the court to help Janet deal with her daughter more effectively. The college had a reputation for its high level of discipline, which had been proven to be beneficial in 'straightening out' problem youngsters. The college even required the girls to wear uniforms - white blouses and kilted skirts in a tartan plaid - exactly as if they were still in a school for children, a requirement which had the desired humbling and humiliating effect on its students. Melanie could hardly believe it when a seamstress came to their house to take her measurements for the uniforms.
Sending Melanie to the college took a substantial bite out of the annuities which Janet's late husband had left to provide financially for his wife and daughter, but Janet felt that if it helped get Melanie's life back on track it was worth the cost.
At the end of each semester Janet received a report from the college on Melanie's performance, both academically and otherwise, both in and out of the classroom. As the months went by, Janet saw an almost unbelievable improvement in every aspect of her daughter's performance. She actually wondered if the school was being totally honest in their reports, but when Melanie was home for two weeks at Christmas she could see the amazing difference for herself.
For one thing, Melanie had become, for the first time, a polite and well-mannered young woman.
Janet could remember when Melanie showed no desire to be at home at all, except for meals and sleep when she couldn't get those elsewhere, but now she seemed genuinely happy to spend her days and evenings at home and in her mother's company. She was helpful around the house, without being ordered to be. She was affectionate, too, to a degree that Janet had once thought her daughter would never be. The warm hugs and gentle cheek kisses that Melanie showered freely on her mother almost brought tears of joy to Janet's eyes.
Janet couldn't help but wonder what there was about Melanie's college life which was having such a profound and positive impact on the girl's attitude and behavior. She hoped that Melanie would be able to tell her something about it, so she asked her daughter to tell her what her life at the college was like.
* * * * *
Melanie's first day at the college was, she thought bitterly, the worst day of her life. She and the other firstyear girls had been herded by unsympathetic upperclass girls through the tedious and stressful processes of registration, dormitory room assignments, issues of uniforms, and so on. There were lists of chores and duties the girls had to perfom, and pages and pages of rules to be read and memorized. Each senior girl carried a short rod, not unlike a bandleader's baton, and used it to whip the backsides of firstyear girls who didn't keep up the demanding pace or who showed the slightest hesitation in following instructions. Melanie had felt the sting of the rods just twice that day, but they had the desired effect and Melanie found herself trying hard to avoid further punishment. It was like Boot Camp in the military, she thought, without the fun of getting a firearm of your own.
That evening, the firstyear girls gathered in the college's gymnasium to be welcomed formally by the school's Headmistress, who spoke only briefly but who left no doubt in their minds that there was now no room for mischief or slacking in their totally controlled lives. By bedtime on that first day Melanie was exhausted and, perhaps for the first time in her life, more than a little frightened by what her mother had gotten her into.
The girls quickly settled into the college's daily routine, which was simple but allowed for no deviations. There were chores to be done in the morning, school classes through the day, quiet study time in the evening, and lights out at bedtime at ten o'clock sharp. Melanie changed her metaphor for the college from that of an army boot camp to that of a medium-security prison.
* * * * *
Melanie quickly learned how the school functioned. She learned that failure to abide by the stict rules, however minor and harmless the transgression, was never tolerated and always resulted in punishment to the offender. Most of the punishments were administered by the faculty, the class Mistresses, but some were handed out by senior girls if they were the ones offended by a girl's actions. The punishments varied in severity, but some were very severe indeed.
The faculty had their own uniform of sorts, although they had some freedom in the choice of colours in their clothing. They all wore sheer blouses, snug skirts to just below the knee, pantyhose or stockings, and modest height heels. They wore sweaters or blazers on cool or windy days, but those were removed in the classroom. Mistresses were always addressed only as 'Mistress', but their first names were used when referring to them outside of their earshot, as in Mistress Joan or Mistress Margaret.
Melanie witnessed the administration of punishment by one of the Mistresses on her very first full day of classes, when the girl who sat at the desk immediately in front of Melanie had allowed her mind to wander. The class Mistress, Mistress Caroline, caught sight of the girl looking out the window instead of at the blackboard where Mistress Caroline had been writing the highlights of today's lesson. Mistress Caroline glanced at her seating chart and found the girl's name.
