For the Hand That Rocks the Cradle, Is the Hand That Rules the World

For a very long time I believed the sentiments of that poem, and still do to a certain extent.  It is true that “the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world,” it’s just that mothers aren’t doing the rocking any longer. 


We have relinquished that responsibility and privilege, and have willing turned it over to those that have led us to believe that they “know best.”  This occurred gradually at first, and to be sure, it did meet with some resistance, but our eagerness to partake of the “modern world” somehow convinced us that our motherly instincts were misguided and misplaced.  We willingly gave birth to our children in hospitals, had them immunized, sent them to preschool, then public school, and throughout their lives, we turned them over to television (which is horrifically sad all by itself).   

At the same time, at every stage of our children’s lives, any number of institutions and individuals – hospitals, schools, police departments, physicians, teachers, etc. – can easily start legal actions that can force the removal of any one of our children from our homes and place them into the hands of the state.  

No one seems to question this, however, we are taught to believe that children are only removed from their mothers, when the mothers don’t take care of them in the manner to which the state deems fit.  In other words, “only the bad mothers lose their kids.” 

What we all seem to forget however, is that in order for those entities to police the “bad mothers,” ALL mothers must be watched, monitored and judged.  Sadly, we are also willingly to submit to this scrutiny as well because we are also taught that, “if we have done nothing wrong, we have nothing to hide.”

For over 20 years I have been a child advocate,  During that time it has become apparent to me that schools are in the business of indoctrination – turning our children into ‘good little citizen-consumers’ – and not in the business of education.  To this day, I’m astonished at the pride we feel when our children bring home a report card filled with “A’s”, or how pridefully we advertise our children’s honor roll status on bumper stickers on the back of our mini-vans. How odd that successful indoctrination is a badge of honor and a source of blind pride in this country.  And I am no better.  I put my children through the system as well.   

What makes this all the more astonishing, is the people that have this power over us, actually BELIEVE that they are doing good works, and completely fail to realize that they, themselves have been successfully indoctrinated, and are in fact pawns of the damaging system they promote.  Indeed, they demand that their value be esteemed and their authority recognize.  After all, they do know better than you, and they do have your children’s best interest at heart…don’t they?    

We are a fickle and confused people, and we have allowed and perpetuated a sad, sad system.  But, let’s all try to remember Wallace’s poem and take back our power – it may not be too late.  Let the hand that rocks the cradle be the hand of “mother” once again and not left to the iron fist of the state.   

The Hand That Rocks the Cradle

Blessings on the hand of women!

Angels guard its strength and grace,

In the palace, cottage, hovel,

Oh, no matter where the place;

Would that never storms assailed it,

Rainbows ever gently curled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy’s the tender fountain,

Power may with beauty flow,

Mother’s first to guide the streamlets,

From them souls unresting grow—

Grow on for the good or evil,

Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission

Here upon or natal sod!

Keep, oh, keep the young heart open

Always to the breath of God!

All true trophies of the ages

Are from mother-love impearled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!

Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,

And the sacred song is mingled

With the worship in the sky-

Mingles where no tempest darkens,

Rainbows evermore are hurled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

                        William Ross Wallace