Miss Polly

 EYFS are learning about People who help us and are on their second week of emergency services. Last week we had a great time making nee naw sounds and making a soundscape of a fire rescue. This week I thought we would look at the medical side of things. My planning brain immediately leaped to Miss Polly.

  

Nursery rhymes have a purpose in that they teach children the values of society but they do date and don’t necessarily get re-written. There’s currently a small war going on in the music teacher world over the fact that 10 little monkeys jumping on the bed has been mentioned on the model music curriculum. This is because it’s original version was ten little n******s, then when I was growing up was changed to Indians and was all about doing away with the pesky coloured people. As children we didn’t know what we were singing but I do remember a rather uncomfortable Brownie gang show where the song was acted out and the audience went silent. I’m in favour of adapting the song rather than forgetting it and I think it’s good to remind people that there have been some awful things done in the name of song. I quite like the monkey version because parents of all races refer to their naughty children as little monkeys and there is a lesson. Don’t jump on the bed because you’ll bump your head and the doctor will have to be called, who will then wag their finger at you.

Now that higher education funding for arts subjects has been cut by 50% we are going to have to get used to adapting old songs because there won’t be anyone, except the very rich (who probably still keep slaves) to write new ones.

I wasn’t going to write about that. I was only going to talk about how pathetic Miss Polly is as a rhyme for children now.

Miss Polly had a dolly who was sick, sick, sick.

Now, we all know this is terribly gendered. It’s not just Miss Polly who is responsible for the children’s health now. Master Freddy’s teddy could be quite ill too.

So she called for the doctor to come quick, quick,quick.

That’s amazing. You mean she didn’t get in a 45 minute telephone queue to be told by a snotty receptionist that there were no appointments left?

The doctor came with his bag and his hat.

A house call? My goodness. They only come out if you are actually dying and even then, in my experience they never wear a hat. They just look rather sad at their sudden lack of power.

And he knocked on the door with a rat-a-tat tat

Was the bell broken? What about that fancy door camera thing you have set to alert your iPhone whenever someone steps on your drive. Didn’t Alexa tell you that he was here? Also, most GPs are women aren’t they?

He looked at the dolly and he shook his head.

That’s about right. Doctors do shake their heads a lot. The last time I saw my GP she actually wagged her finger at me!

He said, “Miss Molly, put her straight to bed”

There nothing that shows how much health care has changed than that. No one puts a sick child to bed. Give them drugs, keep going, don’t miss a moment of school or get her back to nursery so that you can work.

He wrote on a paper for a pill, pill, pill.

That might still be true if it’s not something you can buy for yourself but much more likely to tell you to alternate Calpol and Neurofen with a lecture about how antibiotics don’t work for viruses.

I’ll be back in the morning with my Bill, Bill, Bill.

Luckily, in this country this doesn’t happen, yet but when it does I’m sure he’ll take contactlesss

Teaching music is a political nightmare. I wonder if it would be okay to sing Dem Bones instead?