I see a One Nation politician wants to bring back the cane into the school system.

Most reactions would be: “Well, that is why there is only one of them in parliament, judging on statements like that.”

But when I first read about it, I must say I wasn’t totally against the idea.

That doesn’t mean I am going to start donating to the “Keep Pauline Hansen or any of her disciples in the public eye foundation”, but discipline is certainly worth some thought.

I guess I was very lucky as a kid because most of my teachers were very fair, although I did start primary school poorly by getting into trouble on my first day, even before the bell had rung.

I was at the principal’s office in the first hour, before a book had been opened, all because I may have put a kid’s head through a government-issue wire fence, and maybe I wrapped it around a couple of times just to make sure he got the message.

I must say I got the message loud and clear – at six years of age – what would happen to me if I played up again, and looking back it was probably a pivotal moment in my life.

I ended up great mates with the kid I was fighting with and never ended up in the office again – or only a few times, but I never got the cane.

At high school I did get the cane once but of course I was framed, just like everybody else.

I was running up the stairs to an English class when someone tripped me and I ended up on my back at the feet of a teacher, who happened to be a young female.

I laughed at the predicament I was in, which she mistook for me looking up her dress, and off to the office I went.

I told my story to the deputy principal, who said: “If you expect me to believe that, you are more stupid than you look.”

And he proceeded to give me two cuts, which bloody well hurt at the time, but didn’t mentally scar me forever.

And it did give me the message.

Of course I couldn’t play my guitar ever again, but that was more likely the fact that my guitar teacher tragically passed away. I hope it wasn’t because of my lack of ability.

But on both occasions, at the ages of six and 16, there was a clear line in the sand – or on the second occasion my hand – that let me know what wasn’t acceptable.

I have always been one to throw off at teachers and how many holidays they get, blah blah blah, but I do wonder how rewarding the job is with the lack of discipline, not only in schools but society in general.

Once again, parents have a lot of responsibility to bear – rather than engaging in a blame game about whose fault it is, with the general consensus being anybody but them.

But getting back to me bagging teachers, some of the criticism was definitely fuelled by envy, as I too wanted to be a teacher. But guess what? Not smart enough.

Imagine if I was a teacher – a mature-age one – and next term was my very first crack at moulding the lives of young, impressionable souls.

What would I have been able to pass on to my students? Maybe it would be “Remember to duck or you will end up looking like me”, but it would more likely be “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you tougher”.

Like Malcolm Fraser said, life wasn’t meant to be easy. In fact, a lot times it isn’t even fair, but all you can do is play the cards that you have in front of you.

I would also remind them that a reflection of where our attitudes have sunk to can be seen on most sporting fields on any weekend.

It seems that the referee or umpire is to blame for everything that goes wrong and even at times gets accused of being part of a giant conspiracy.

Of course, thankfully for all involved, I will never be a teacher. But if I could give some advice it would probably be to the parents, not the kids.

I would remind them that the teachers need your support. The majority are doing the best they can, and while the One Nation politician may be on to something, maybe he should be suggesting the cane be used on some of the parents.