The Ominous Truth of Nursery Rhymes

As a prominent part of nannying for my nephews I get to sing lullabies to them before such sleep activities like naptime and bedtime. They love nursery rhymes and often enjoy singing along. Their personal favorites include Toora Loora and the ABCD's song. But there are others, particularly the older nursery rhymes, that I am starting to get into again. And I am rediscovering the lyrics as I sing them. And I am horrified.

Take, for example, "You Are My Sunshine." It is hard to not have heard this song while growing up. I'm pretty sure it is in the mom's handbook of how to raise children, that clearly every mother has. (Or so I hope.)

But anyway, "You are My Sunshine" starts off innocuous enough.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away."

Pretty, poignant, a perfect lullaby for kids of all ages. But the second, lesser-known chorus takes on a different tone.

"The other night dear, as I lay sleeping

I dreamt I held you in my arms
When I awoke dear, I was mistaken

So I hung my head and I cried."

Because nothing says I love you at bedtime than dependency issues and isolation. And then, after this part, the song jumps back to the happier "you are my sunshine" verse. Is it just me, or do these sound like two entirely different songs?

I seriously try to push Toora Loorah when the nephews ask for "You Are My Sunshine". Because you don't achieve long and peaceful naps after you tell the kids you're trying to put to sleep that their nanny is going to wake up crying from unrealized dreams and loneliness. And just 'cause you're using a happy voice and a soothing melody doesn't take away the message of the song. The eerie, despondent message of the song.

The second song that really irks me is "Rock-A-Bye Baby." It, too, is overly violent, and involves themes of baby abandonment.

"Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top

And when the wind blows the cradle will rock

And when the bough breaks the cradle will fall

And down will come baby, cradle and all."

This nursery rhyme revolves around two major themes: abandoning a baby on a precarious perch in a tree, and then the predictable baby violence that follows from the aforementioned precarious perch in the tree. Who's bright idea was it to put the cradle up in the tree? The same person that decided it was good idea that the baby should go in it, evidently. The line about the bough breaking and the baby falling is also a bit of a brush off. In my experience, falling out of trees has been unpleasant and rather bloody. But there's nothing like setting up toddlers for a lifetime of abandonment and a feeling of impending doom. Because if you start off with putting a baby in a tree, you know that things are not going to end well.

Even if the whole situation is hypothetical and the person never intended to follow through, why did they feel it was a good idea to write a song about it in the first place? Isn't that a bit more horrifying? And then they decided that it was a good idea to sing that song to a baby. And other people agreed! For how else would the song have stood the test of time and been passed down from generation to generation. If the song was written in the current day, you can bet the house that there would be more than a few serious investigations conducted. More than a few.

Sadly, there are more sinister nursery rhymes like this. There's "Hush Little Baby," which pushes the idea that material objects are valueless and can be easily replaced and then forgotten with new gifts.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word.
Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird
And if that mockingbird won't sing,
Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring
And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass
And if that looking glass gets broke,
Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat
And if that billy goat won't pull,
Papa's gonna buy you a cart and bull
And if that cart and bull turn over,
Papa's gonna buy you a dog named Rover
And if that dog named Rover won't bark
Papa's gonna buy you a horse and cart
And if that horse and cart fall down,
You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town."

Guess who's not going to be the sweetest little baby in town? Oh right, the kid you keep buying stuff impulsively for. If the kid is going to grow up with any semblance of a value system, then the song should be about helping the mocking bird learn how to sing and teaching Rover to bark.


The whole I-will-replace anything-for-you- mentality seems selfless, but then there's the line about the kid being the "sweetest little baby in town." This juxtaposition rings rather false for me. If you keep buying a kid more and more gifts because the gifts either don't work or are cheap (how many diamond rings do you own that have turned to brass? I thought so) you need to question where you are purchasing these items from. Maybe it's not the gifts themselves; maybe it's you.

Aside from these three, I'm sure there are much, much more. Maybe these nursery rhymes were born out of the harsher times when it was fully possible that the baby would need to sleep in a tree or that your horse and carriage would fall over and break. Maybe the songs aim to raise the baby with the awareness that, sometimes, life sucks and you're going to get a billy goat instead of the flimsy looking glass that broke. (Lame gift. What does a baby do with a billy goat? What does anyone do with a Billy goat?) But I still choose the "Bob the Builder" song over these nursery rhymes anyday. And, luckily, the nephews do too.