The Single Father's Blog

Real Talk…From A Real Dad…On Real Life


A Fort Wayne, IN woman went to some extreme measures to punish her 14-year-old son recently.

Dynesha Lax says that she tried all she could to stop her son from committing crimes and decided to try an alternative method of punishment.

After going to court for crimes that he committed, the boy was given a slap on the wrist in the form of community service. Dynesha told her son that he had to stand outside wearing a sign that detailed all of his wrongdoings.

The teenager stood on a neighborhood corner with the sign that read “I lie, I steal, I sell drugs, I don’t follow the law.”

Lax explained that the court system placed her son on probation and made her responsible for over $300 in fees but no one offered a solution to what was going on with him.

Some drivers who saw the teen outside with the sign didn’t think what Lax did to her son was illegal so they called the police and reported her. When police arrived they decided that what the mother was doing was completely legal because the child was in no danger.

When asked about the punishment Dynesha said “I’m hoping that having him out here is going to make it sink in. It wasn’t for it to be a joke or anything funny. He just had to stand out here two hours and suddenly it blew up. Then again they’ve got their way of parenting and I’ve got mine. My object is to save my son.

Sometimes folks need to mind their own damn business!  If this mother chose to discipline her child by having him stand outside that is her choice. The same people that called the police on her will be the same ones calling the police if he broke into their home and stole some of their property. I’m glad the police made the right call and allowed to discipline her child the way she saw fit.

What do you think?

Was this punishment too severe?



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  1. Def not too severe, jus gave me an idea for my 14 yr old. The courts could care less, jus one less ni**a they got to put up with, sad to say but its true. The hell with what society or the community thinks cuz u right soon as he would have did some off the wall ish, they would have been calling the cops then blaming her lack of parenting..thts y I will CONTINUE to put belt to ass until mines is 18 lol!

  2. I totally Agree with this mothers choice of punishment. It is her responsibility to raise and per her words “save” that young man. I am a firm believer – if you do what you have always done .. you will get what you have always gotten- As a result what she (and the courts) have done prior has created a child that believes its ok to lie, steal and break the law! So extreme actions sometimes cause and call for extreme reactions. Her son needs to see that he does have consequences and @ least he is holding a homemade sign in hopes to prevent him from holding a government one ie..PRISON

  3. Eric Harris on said:

    Growing up with a single mother and two little brothers, I was too busy playing all the roles of “the man of the house” to realize that I was doing just that. I was never upset with my father. Even though, I often heard my mother, on the phone telling her friends how much of a dead beat he was. It was like, I heard all of the bad things she said about my father, but all I could think about was those cool cars he drove. I remember closing my eyes and imagining me behind the wheel, doing burnouts for miles while my friends watched me and cheered on. He had every hot-rod you could name. The Monte Carlo SS, The Buick Grand National, The Pontiac GTO, The Dodge Challenger, even The Pontiac Trans Am (Smokey and the Bandit Edition). In the early 80’s, if you owned any one of these cars you were considered royalty. My dad had them all, at the same time. It was 1980 and I was 5 years old. I was used to seeing my dad maybe once a month. We lived in a very small town and he often was a no show after several promises to come and pick me up for the weekend. I would get all packed up and wait for hours for him to show up. Hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. He lived only a half mile away. I could have thrown a rock from my house to his. But he still never showed.

    Day dreaming about those cars that he owned allowed me to escape the harsh realities of poverty that I lived in. Many nights, while my mother was at work, our dinner consisted of flour and water mixed together, and baked to make bread. Other times my little brothers and I just went to bed hungry. I didn’t blame my dad for our situation. It couldn’t have been his fault because he was the coolest dad in the world. 

    One day my aunts came to pick me up early in the morning and we drove for about 3 hours. We came to a big gate with razor wire and men with guns all around. We went in and sat at a table. After about 15 minutes, my dad walked out dressed in a tan suit. I was happy to see him again. I was too young to know what was going on. But we hugged, talked, took a few photos together and left. I wanted him to leave with us but he couldn’t. He said he had to finish going to school and he would be done soon. He said he would come and pick me up as soon as he came home. 

    I was about 13 years old when I found out that my dad was in prison and not school when we went to visit him. 5 years had gone by and I was old enough to ask questions and get answers. I asked one of my older cousins why my dad had gone to prison? He began to tell me how my father was painting the inside of a house for an elderly white lady. He started to rummage through her belongings and ended up stealing 200 rare gold coins that she had hidden in one of her room drawers. 200 rare gold coins worth $2,000 each. When the cops caught him they only recovered 100 of the coins. After my cousin told me about the coins, I started to calculate how much money he may have had. I then thought about all those hungry nights I had to go through, and the many times I had to wear the same clothes to school over and over again. I also thought about all of those cool cars he had. And that day, I promised myself that I would always be a better father than he was. That day, I began to look at him for what he really was. A dead beat. 

    He never came to any of my football games, never met any of my teachers, never asked about my grades or my behavior. I learned a valuable lesson from my dad. And that was to never become anything like he was. I learned what not to do. I made it a point to be present for the birth of each and every one of my children. I was proud to sign my name on those birth certificates and made sure that they all had my last name. While far from perfect, I still remain a dedicated father to my four children. I have full custody of three of my children. D’asia Harris 14, Erionna Harris 12, and Eric Harris Jr. 11. My daughter Tierykah Harris is 6. I love them so much that it hurts. I’d do anything just to see them smile. We have a special bond and I know that they love me just as much. They’re such great kids and they all have terrific grades in school and they’re always on their best behavior. 

    Being a father to me means so much more than just having kids. It’s a full time job that never ever ends. I do my best to teach them the value of self-respect and integrity. I don’t want them to grow up going through the things I had to go through growing up. And even though I am guilty of spoiling them a bit much, I make them earn that privilege. However, don’t think for one minute that I am soft on them. I push them so that they can be ready for all the challenges of life. And when they fall, I’m right there to pick them up and encourage them to keep pressing on. 

    My father and I still do not get along to this very day. He is a 52 year old man still trying to live out his teenage years. He’s never been married and still fixing up his vehicles with big chrome rims and loud music. And while I’m here raising my kids all alone, cooking, cleaning, and all of that fun stuff, I’m encouraged every time I look at my birth certificate and see a blank space where it says “Father’s Name”. That encourages me a lot. However, I can’t help but to think about how my packed bags used to sit by the front door waiting for him to show up like he said he would. Then hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. My father being a dead beat motivated me to do just the opposite. So instead of being a weekend dad or a no-show dad, I just decided to keep my children with me. I love them little nigglets !!!!!! 

  4. i agree

  5. Awsome!

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