What happened to Jack?
There are many “good old days” that I do not miss. Like sitting in a class in primary (elementary and middle) and secondary school (9th & 10th grade). I can count the classes I enjoyed with one hand – 9th & 10th grade English, Math and Physics. Only because the teachers seemed to care and knew how to mix some fun into the process. I have never particularly cared for a daily repetitive routine that feels like a rut, be it school or a job. I was christened “junglee” on the first day of pre-school (nursery) by the teacher in response to my ferocious protests to being carried into a class by force by a concerned mother and aunt. As a side note, the English word jungle comes from the Hindi word jangal which has a Sanskrit origin. A junglee would be an anglicized Hindi version of belonging to the jungle as in Tarzan, or more like his ape friend. It is strange, but I still remember that day- my mother holding my arms, my aunt holding my feet, and the teacher jostling for any body part that would keep me from flailing and swaying.
Soon after, I put my hand up in class and asked my teacher-
“What happened to Jack?”
The teacher, already wary, now confused.
“What?” (There were no polite “Excuse me”s then)
“What happened to Jack after he broke his crown?” I inquired “Did they take him to the hospital? Did the ambulance come?”
“I don’t know” said the teacher, “it doesn’t say here. Don’t ask any questions!”
So I suffered through the London Bridge falling down, Humpty Dumpty falling apart, the ring around the roses turning into ash, wondering why all these nursery rhymes were oh, so tragic. But I did not dare ask another question. Years later I would teach people about the importance of positive affirmation. I would wonder out loud if early negative programming like these rhymes had anything to do with the epidemic of low self-esteem in the world.