Social studies. Social science. History. Cowboys and Indians. Story time. One and the same to so many of us who attended public elementary schools.The searing reality finds the modern public primary school and its millions of young, impressionable pupils terribly out of touch with the truths of our nation’s history. The study of America’s past is utterly lost on these youngsters (and their teachers, more and more frequently without proper credentials), and that is a sad and dangerous fact.
This weekend, for some reason, I found myself reflecting on what I remembered from elementary school history lessons - if they can be called lessons. I remember the collective groan when the teacher would announce that before snack time we would have to waste a half hour or so on “social studies.” And I remember how worn our text books were, torn at the binding and spotted on its dull pages with light brown stains that seemed to glue pairs of pages together. With a word from the teacher, the class would reluctantly flip to the pages we were instructed to read, and we would “popcorn” around the room until its entirety was read aloud. The subject matter was hardly varied: Francis Drake, the California missions and Junipero Sera, the pioneers, and a bit about some tea being dumped by some Indians into a lake from the Mayflower (or something like that).
Honestly, I can’t say I learned anything in those boring sessions. Thankfully, I’ve come to relearn most of the history I supposedly learned in my elementary years, and I know now that the tea folks were just dressed up as Indians - or Native Americans, or was it American Indians? My teachers never knew which term was correct, so I grew up using all of them and none of them; it may be silly, and probably offensive, but it’s highly instructive: Political correctness, and historical facts in general, were not communicated to us as youngsters.
First, I’ll explain why I find this very dangerous. I know that I am exceptional in my fascination with history. Of everyone I know, probably fewer than 5% would say that they enjoyed studying history in school. In fact, I’ve been told by so many people that just about every other academic subject was more interesting to them - and I suppose I counted myself among them until high school. But while some children eventually see the light and come to love and respect history, as I have, I don’t think that it’s much of a jump to say that the vast majority of children retain their hatred even after intellectual maturity. This is at the heart of the hazard. What Edmund Burke said on the subject has become somewhat of a cliche: “Those who don’t know history are destined to repeat it.” But I have no doubt that it remains as true as ever. As a nation of history-hating children who inherit the reins of our Republic as history-ignorant adults, we have put our future in grave peril. I could write extensively on this subject, and I would write that I believe we are seeing the effects of this even now - but let it suffice here to say that when as citizens we do not recognize the vitality of the lessons learned by our fathers and grandfathers in the past, I believe, we make their same mistakes and repeat their same follies. This is certainly no equation for progress. Worse, it is probably a recipe for eventual regression.
Second, I would like to briefly summarize some of the larger flaws (lies?) I have retrospectively noticed occurring in the history I learned as a boy (organized roughly in order of severity, from most severe to less so).
Flaw 1: American history is composed of one story and one only; our textbooks’ simple narrative was made up of irrefutable facts that one would find no reason to question.
Flaw 2: The United States of America and its people have never done anything wrong.
Flaw 3 (a corollary to Flaw 2): The United States of American and its people have never engaged in any activities at all similar to those of our enemies, i.e. imperial crusades, suspensions of habeas corpus, establishments of concentration camps.
Flaw 4: The Native Americans were overjoyed to meet the “Pilgrims” when they stepped off the Mayflower in the “New World.”
Flaw 5: Westward expansion was just “manifest destiny.”
Flaw 6: History is best studied in terms of war and conflict; nothing extraordinary occurs in peacetime.
Flaw 7: Our American democracy works swimmingly, and each American has an equal voice in directing the course of our nation.
There are obvious problems inherent in each of these, of course. And there are probably a thousand more that I can’t think of at the moment. Nonetheless, I think it’s illustrative of a grand breakdown in our public school system’s dedication to truth. It’s why, I should add, Americans are increasingly wary of monolithic public schooling and are turning ever more to private schools and home schools. I was reading last night a book on the reading habits of the Founders (Books and the Founding Fathers, by George H. Nash, if you want to read it yourself). There were no public schools when Thomas Jefferson and John Adams were growing up. They had to rely on private tutors and their own desires for success and intellect to attain the necessary classical knowledge that would secure for them upward social, political, and economic mobility. Even college in eighteenth-century America was heavily individualistic, with students (who were, on average, four to five years younger when they entered college) more often reading books on their own than sitting in classrooms with teachers. It was a different world, to say the very least, and the modes of learning reflected that world.
But just because this was three hundred years ago does not mean that it cannot hold some amount of relevance today. The learned of our Founding were men (and women) who had taken the initiative to explore the world around them, who were not forced to sit in a dusty classroom for six hours a day being forced to read faulty, oversimplified, and outright untruthful text books written by committees of scholars with political agendas. Certainly American children of our era are not nearly as disciplined as little Tommy Jefferson probably was, but discipline comes with responsibility, which is something we are not burdened with until very late in our intellectual development, late in high school or in college.
Is an overhaul needed? Very much so. But it is not simply an overhaul of public schools and textbooks and teachers that’s necessary, but a complete shift in how we see and treat our children. If Jefferson had been pampered and belittled and constantly occupied with useless fun and games as a child, I would hate to consider how terrible the Declaration would have come out.

