“Advance and Transfer” is a nautical term that describes what happens when a ship’s wheel is turned to a new course. Due to its forward momentum, the boat or ship will continue on the previous course until the rudder ultimately causes a change in direction. The larger the ship, the longer this transfer takes. So it is with pedagogy in History.
In his 2006 JAH article “Uncoverage-Toward a Signature Pedagogy for the History Survey”, Dr. Lendol Calder quoted the late Roland Marchand: “Why are historians so incurious about learning?" In speaking with public school history teachers, as well as professors at some local colleges, I’ve yet to meet anyone who is even aware of the Scholarship of Teaching and Learning (SoTL) in History and the work that’s been done over the past 12 years, researching how humans learn and, consequently, how they should be taught. Despite some innovative attempts to depart from the “facts first” emphasis on content, such as the Amherst Project in the 1960s, History continues to be taught as it’s been taught for the last 125 years.
For public school teachers, this is somewhat understandable. As Diane Ravitch pointed out, a large percentage of those teaching History are teaching out-of-field, defined as having neither majored nor minored in History in college. Often, History teacher is spelled C-O-A-C-H. “There appears to be the presumption that teaching history requires no special skills beyond the ability to stay a few pages ahead of the students in the textbook.”(1)
Even if they were inclined to keep up with current scholarship, they are often constrained by the directives of Boards of Education as to what must be taught and, in some cases, even how it is to be taught. This, too, is understandable. Individuals elected to such Boards were themselves taught that way. History pedagogy is mired in 19th century assumptions and 20th century methods. What were some of those 19th century assumptions?
In 1892, Harvard president Charles Williams Eliot headed up the Committee of Ten that standardized the curriculum which, in large measure, is still followed today in the public schools. Starting with the view that there is a body of knowledge that everyone must know to be considered educated, the Committee’s recommendation was that "...every subject which is taught at all in a secondary school should be taught in the same way and to the same extent to every pupil so long as he pursues it, no matter what the probable destination of the pupil may be, or at what point his education is to cease."(2)
The key phrase there was the stricture that every subject be taught the same way. Mathematics, the Sciences, and even English, with its grammatical rules, all rely on facts and lend themselves to rote memorization. Neither the Pythagorean Theorem, nor Newton’s Laws, is based on interpretation. In order to "do" Math, one must know that 2+2=4.
Another set of assumptions led directly to the imposition of compulsory school laws. Contrary to popular thinking, compulsory schooling was not intended for education, in the sense of spreading literacy. In fact, America was perhaps the most literate country in the world before the creation of government schools. In 1812, Pierre DuPont published Education in the United States, a book in which he expressed his amazement at the high rate of literacy he saw here compared to Europe. Forty years before the passage of our first compulsory school laws, DuPont found that fewer than 4 of every 1,000 people in the U.S. could not read and do numbers well.
Compulsory schooling was implemented for the purpose of social and behavioral control. It is not coincidental that the first compulsory school law in Massachusetts came in 1852. The late 1840s saw a huge influx of immigrants to the United States – the Irish, following the Potato Famine that began in 1845.
The cultural elites, especially in New England, viewed these newcomers with fear and suspicion. In 1853, the Boston School Committee stated:
Horace Mann, then Boston’s Commissioner of Education, put it more succinctly, “With the old not much can be done; but with their children, the great remedy is education. The rising generation must be taught as our children are taught. We say must be, because in many cases this can only be accomplished by coercion. Children must be gathered up and forced into schools and those who resist and impede this plan, whether parents or priests, must be held accountable and punished.”(4)
In essence, children would be considered the property of the State, at least in the eyes of the WASP elite. An integral part of their being “taught as our children are taught” was the creation of an American Creed. This led to what Bruce VanSledright described as collective memorialization of an American creation myth, the “freedom quest, nation building narrative” of American exceptionalism. "In a nation that has built itself off the backs of waves of immigrants, the push to use history education to 'Americanize' the hordes of 'outsiders' lobbies incessantly. To sow allegiance to the nation state requires constant maintenance."(5) Then, the immigration laws began to be manipulated to control the flow of those outsiders. Only those judged capable of being properly Americanized were allowed in. Such manipulation continues to the present day.
Added to this perceived need to “Americanize” the millions of immigrants who came to the United States in the 19th century was the cataclysm of World War I. As Sipress and Voelker pointed out, “The Great War helped trigger a wave of anxiety regarding the basic education necessary to sustain democracy in a world that had recently proven so menacing to peace and stability.”(6) This led to what has become something of a shibboleth, that the study of History is “essential for good citizenship in a democracy.”
This revealed wisdom seems to be uniquely American, however. Both Great Britain and Germany are democracies. Yet, in a search of the reasons cited for studying history at the University of London and Humboldt University of Berlin, one does not find this citizenship essentiality. But, ceding for a moment that there is such an essentiality, it begs a number of questions.
How does force feeding students a litany of dates, facts, and names contribute to good citizenship? What is a good citizen? Who gets to decide?
In 1783, immediately following the Revolutionary War, George Washington wrote Sentiments on a Peace Establishment, setting forth his views on what peacetime military force would be needed to provide for the common defense. In this document, he said, “It may be laid down, as a primary position, and the basis of our system, that every Citizen who enjoys the protection of a free Government, owes not only a proportion of his property, but even of his personal services to the defense of it.”
To George Washington, military service was essential for good citizenship. Thomas Jefferson, on the other hand, believed that such would lead to a large standing army. And, he believed that the “yeoman farmer”, ready to serve when called upon, was more in keeping with a free society. Here we have diametrically opposing views on what constitutes good citizenship.
When the United States entered World War I, the Army developed classification tests to determine assignments to various military occupations. “Army Alpha” tested those who were fluent in English, while "Army Beta" was given to those who still spoke a foreign language. It was found that over 50% of American males tested could not read above a 4th grade level. Most lived on farms and had never traveled more than 10 miles from home.
In World War II, military technology had advanced much farther than in the previous war. Unlike wars in the past, men could not be taken from their villages, given a weapon, and shoved into the ranks to create an effective army. With the rapid advances in technology, World War II would demand men with complex skills to operate and repair the weapons of war. The method in which millions of men began their classification by the Army was taking the Army General Classification Test (AGCT).
Despite an intervening 20 years of supposed progress in education, immediately prior to Pearl Harbor over 347,000 men who registered for Selective Service merely made marks on their registration cards due to their inability to sign their names. The problem of illiteracy was such a big issue that the Army struggled with finding a policy that would allow it to meet its manpower requirements while still maintaining a high level of efficiency needed to fight and win the war. Despite all the "progressive" education of government schools, literacy in America went DOWN.
In both World Wars, thousands of American men could barely read. But, they served their country in its hour of need. They certainly didn't need to "study" History to be good citizens. In large measure, the GI Bill was enacted after World War II because of the low level of education that had existed at the start of the war. It was realized that the advance of technology, particularly the technology of modern war, would require a higher level in the future.
One argument always put forth as a measure of good citizenship is voting. Voting is a matter of conscience. But, it must be remembered that thousands of African American men either volunteered or were conscripted to fight in both world wars. They considered themselves good citizens. Yet, they were denied the right to vote through such devices as the poll tax and literacy tests. It took the passage of the Voting Rights Act in 1965, 20 years after the war, to correct this injustice.
Today, there are approximately 25,000 non-citizens serving in the American armed forces, with another 8,000 or so entering each year. The services have a special program to help these men and women become citizens by the end of their first enlistment. If they do not, they are not allowed to remain. What do these non-citizens learn? They learn the information necessary to pass the citizenship test given by the Federal government. Are they to be considered “bad” citizens because they didn’t take the History survey course that’s part of the general education curriculum?
Most of the resistance to change comes from academia itself, a combination of hubris, laziness, and a desire for job security. Elected officials, who exercise a great deal of control over education, act on the advice of those considered “experts” in their field, as if a PhD granted 40 years ago confers the wisdom of the ages. I personally know professors who haven’t changed their lectures in at least 15 years. Even the proposed adoption of a different History textbook brings opposition.
There is also a very strong ideological component to maintaining the status quo ante. As James W. Loewen stated, “History can be a weapon.”(7) By sticking to a “facts first” approach, those so inclined are willing and able to ensure a particular set of “facts”, and the interpretation of those facts, are taught. In the Afterward of his A People’s History of the United States, the late Howard Zinn said, “What struck me as I began to study history was how nationalist fervor--inculcated from childhood on by pledges of allegiance, national anthems, flags waving and rhetoric blowing--permeated the educational systems of all countries, including our own.”(8)
However, in his zeal to ameliorate this nationalist fervor, Zinn committed what David Hackett Fischer termed the “converse fallacy of difference”(9), rendering a special judgment upon a group for a quality which is not special to it. Two entire generations of American students have been indoctrinated to view Western Civilization in general, and America in particular, as the focus of evil in the world. But, at least Zinn was open and above board in stating that he wrote from a particular ideological perspective. Unfortunately, most textbook writers are not so honest.
The resistance to change stems mainly from a failure to consider the perspective of the students, following the Behaviorist theory of learning that dominated the 20th century. This cast the teacher or professor as the font of all knowledge, with the mind of the student the empty vessel into which that knowledge would be “poured.” Although this epistemological view has been replaced by Cognitive and Constructivist theories, the pedagogical course of the “ship” of History continues to Advance, resisting a Transfer to a new heading.
Although probably not consciously intended, the concept of “Backward Design”(10), developed by Grant Wiggins and Jay McTighe, follows the management method developed by W. Edwards Deming. In essence, Deming advocated working backward from the customer, studying each process within a company, and making whatever changes are necessary to ensure the customer’s expectations are met. Who are education’s “customers?”
In all cases, the students are the customers. At the secondary school level, the expectations to be met are those of the parents and other citizens who pay the taxes that fund the public schools. All too often, however, the attitude of teachers and administrators is not to meet those expectations, but to tell the customers what their expectations should be. At the college level, it’s clear that the students are the customers. They are the one’s paying tuition.
However, society at large can also be viewed as a customer. Businesses must use the “product” being produced by the educational system. Little thought has been given to what knowledge and skills are needed in the 21st century. YouSeeU is a global leader in soft skill development for higher education and corporate training. In 2015, YouSeeU published a white paper entitled Curbing Global Automation: Why Our Future Rests in Soft Skills. These are the skills that cannot be replicated by machines:
Social Skills – The ability to get along with others
Communication Skills – Oral, written, non-verbal & and listening skills
Higher Order Thinking Skills – Problem solving, critical thinking & decision making
Self-Control – Ability to control impulses & focus attention
Positive Self-Concept – Self-confidence, self-efficacy & self-awareness
The discipline of history particularly lends itself to developing the higher order thinking skills because that’s what historians DO. However, the most significant change must be in what students think ABOUT. Expecting 21st century students to “think critically” about the Salem witch trials is putting a square peg in a round hole. Rather than having non-History majors remember who the Robber Barons were, it would be more appropriate to have them think about why they came to be called Robber Barons in the first place. Did they possess no redeeming qualities at all? What contributions to society did muckrakers like Ida Tarbull make, other than fanning the flames of envy?
As Fischer also pointed out 48 years ago, “there are no facts which everyone needs to know – not even facts of the first historiographical magnitude. What real difference can knowledge of the fact of the fall of Babylon or Byzantium make in the daily life of anyone except a professional historian?”(11)
To keep students engaged, they must see the relevance of the material to their lives and their aspirations for the future. Professors who continue to decide a priori what they believe students should know, either based on their own particular interests because they believe their CV grants them the right to do so, or simply because “that’s the way we’ve always done it”, are doing a grave disservice to both the students and to the larger society.
Endnotes:
In his 2006 JAH article “Uncoverage-Toward a Signature Pedagogy for the History Survey”, Dr. Lendol Calder quoted the late Roland Marchand: “Why are historians so incurious about learning?" In speaking with public school history teachers, as well as professors at some local colleges, I’ve yet to meet anyone who is even aware of the Scholarship of Teaching and Learning (SoTL) in History and the work that’s been done over the past 12 years, researching how humans learn and, consequently, how they should be taught. Despite some innovative attempts to depart from the “facts first” emphasis on content, such as the Amherst Project in the 1960s, History continues to be taught as it’s been taught for the last 125 years.
For public school teachers, this is somewhat understandable. As Diane Ravitch pointed out, a large percentage of those teaching History are teaching out-of-field, defined as having neither majored nor minored in History in college. Often, History teacher is spelled C-O-A-C-H. “There appears to be the presumption that teaching history requires no special skills beyond the ability to stay a few pages ahead of the students in the textbook.”(1)
Even if they were inclined to keep up with current scholarship, they are often constrained by the directives of Boards of Education as to what must be taught and, in some cases, even how it is to be taught. This, too, is understandable. Individuals elected to such Boards were themselves taught that way. History pedagogy is mired in 19th century assumptions and 20th century methods. What were some of those 19th century assumptions?
In 1892, Harvard president Charles Williams Eliot headed up the Committee of Ten that standardized the curriculum which, in large measure, is still followed today in the public schools. Starting with the view that there is a body of knowledge that everyone must know to be considered educated, the Committee’s recommendation was that "...every subject which is taught at all in a secondary school should be taught in the same way and to the same extent to every pupil so long as he pursues it, no matter what the probable destination of the pupil may be, or at what point his education is to cease."(2)
The key phrase there was the stricture that every subject be taught the same way. Mathematics, the Sciences, and even English, with its grammatical rules, all rely on facts and lend themselves to rote memorization. Neither the Pythagorean Theorem, nor Newton’s Laws, is based on interpretation. In order to "do" Math, one must know that 2+2=4.
Another set of assumptions led directly to the imposition of compulsory school laws. Contrary to popular thinking, compulsory schooling was not intended for education, in the sense of spreading literacy. In fact, America was perhaps the most literate country in the world before the creation of government schools. In 1812, Pierre DuPont published Education in the United States, a book in which he expressed his amazement at the high rate of literacy he saw here compared to Europe. Forty years before the passage of our first compulsory school laws, DuPont found that fewer than 4 of every 1,000 people in the U.S. could not read and do numbers well.
Compulsory schooling was implemented for the purpose of social and behavioral control. It is not coincidental that the first compulsory school law in Massachusetts came in 1852. The late 1840s saw a huge influx of immigrants to the United States – the Irish, following the Potato Famine that began in 1845.
The cultural elites, especially in New England, viewed these newcomers with fear and suspicion. In 1853, the Boston School Committee stated:
“The parent is not the absolute owner of the child.
The child is a member of the community, has certain
rights, and is bound to perform certain duties, and so
far as these relate to the public, Government has the
same right of control over the child that it has over the
parent…Those children should be brought within the
jurisdiction of the Public Schools, from whom, through
their vagrant habits, our property is most in danger,
and who, of all others, most need the protecting power
of the State.”(3)
Horace Mann, then Boston’s Commissioner of Education, put it more succinctly, “With the old not much can be done; but with their children, the great remedy is education. The rising generation must be taught as our children are taught. We say must be, because in many cases this can only be accomplished by coercion. Children must be gathered up and forced into schools and those who resist and impede this plan, whether parents or priests, must be held accountable and punished.”(4)
In essence, children would be considered the property of the State, at least in the eyes of the WASP elite. An integral part of their being “taught as our children are taught” was the creation of an American Creed. This led to what Bruce VanSledright described as collective memorialization of an American creation myth, the “freedom quest, nation building narrative” of American exceptionalism. "In a nation that has built itself off the backs of waves of immigrants, the push to use history education to 'Americanize' the hordes of 'outsiders' lobbies incessantly. To sow allegiance to the nation state requires constant maintenance."(5) Then, the immigration laws began to be manipulated to control the flow of those outsiders. Only those judged capable of being properly Americanized were allowed in. Such manipulation continues to the present day.
Added to this perceived need to “Americanize” the millions of immigrants who came to the United States in the 19th century was the cataclysm of World War I. As Sipress and Voelker pointed out, “The Great War helped trigger a wave of anxiety regarding the basic education necessary to sustain democracy in a world that had recently proven so menacing to peace and stability.”(6) This led to what has become something of a shibboleth, that the study of History is “essential for good citizenship in a democracy.”
This revealed wisdom seems to be uniquely American, however. Both Great Britain and Germany are democracies. Yet, in a search of the reasons cited for studying history at the University of London and Humboldt University of Berlin, one does not find this citizenship essentiality. But, ceding for a moment that there is such an essentiality, it begs a number of questions.
How does force feeding students a litany of dates, facts, and names contribute to good citizenship? What is a good citizen? Who gets to decide?
In 1783, immediately following the Revolutionary War, George Washington wrote Sentiments on a Peace Establishment, setting forth his views on what peacetime military force would be needed to provide for the common defense. In this document, he said, “It may be laid down, as a primary position, and the basis of our system, that every Citizen who enjoys the protection of a free Government, owes not only a proportion of his property, but even of his personal services to the defense of it.”
To George Washington, military service was essential for good citizenship. Thomas Jefferson, on the other hand, believed that such would lead to a large standing army. And, he believed that the “yeoman farmer”, ready to serve when called upon, was more in keeping with a free society. Here we have diametrically opposing views on what constitutes good citizenship.
When the United States entered World War I, the Army developed classification tests to determine assignments to various military occupations. “Army Alpha” tested those who were fluent in English, while "Army Beta" was given to those who still spoke a foreign language. It was found that over 50% of American males tested could not read above a 4th grade level. Most lived on farms and had never traveled more than 10 miles from home.
In World War II, military technology had advanced much farther than in the previous war. Unlike wars in the past, men could not be taken from their villages, given a weapon, and shoved into the ranks to create an effective army. With the rapid advances in technology, World War II would demand men with complex skills to operate and repair the weapons of war. The method in which millions of men began their classification by the Army was taking the Army General Classification Test (AGCT).
Despite an intervening 20 years of supposed progress in education, immediately prior to Pearl Harbor over 347,000 men who registered for Selective Service merely made marks on their registration cards due to their inability to sign their names. The problem of illiteracy was such a big issue that the Army struggled with finding a policy that would allow it to meet its manpower requirements while still maintaining a high level of efficiency needed to fight and win the war. Despite all the "progressive" education of government schools, literacy in America went DOWN.
In both World Wars, thousands of American men could barely read. But, they served their country in its hour of need. They certainly didn't need to "study" History to be good citizens. In large measure, the GI Bill was enacted after World War II because of the low level of education that had existed at the start of the war. It was realized that the advance of technology, particularly the technology of modern war, would require a higher level in the future.
One argument always put forth as a measure of good citizenship is voting. Voting is a matter of conscience. But, it must be remembered that thousands of African American men either volunteered or were conscripted to fight in both world wars. They considered themselves good citizens. Yet, they were denied the right to vote through such devices as the poll tax and literacy tests. It took the passage of the Voting Rights Act in 1965, 20 years after the war, to correct this injustice.
Today, there are approximately 25,000 non-citizens serving in the American armed forces, with another 8,000 or so entering each year. The services have a special program to help these men and women become citizens by the end of their first enlistment. If they do not, they are not allowed to remain. What do these non-citizens learn? They learn the information necessary to pass the citizenship test given by the Federal government. Are they to be considered “bad” citizens because they didn’t take the History survey course that’s part of the general education curriculum?
Most of the resistance to change comes from academia itself, a combination of hubris, laziness, and a desire for job security. Elected officials, who exercise a great deal of control over education, act on the advice of those considered “experts” in their field, as if a PhD granted 40 years ago confers the wisdom of the ages. I personally know professors who haven’t changed their lectures in at least 15 years. Even the proposed adoption of a different History textbook brings opposition.
There is also a very strong ideological component to maintaining the status quo ante. As James W. Loewen stated, “History can be a weapon.”(7) By sticking to a “facts first” approach, those so inclined are willing and able to ensure a particular set of “facts”, and the interpretation of those facts, are taught. In the Afterward of his A People’s History of the United States, the late Howard Zinn said, “What struck me as I began to study history was how nationalist fervor--inculcated from childhood on by pledges of allegiance, national anthems, flags waving and rhetoric blowing--permeated the educational systems of all countries, including our own.”(8)
However, in his zeal to ameliorate this nationalist fervor, Zinn committed what David Hackett Fischer termed the “converse fallacy of difference”(9), rendering a special judgment upon a group for a quality which is not special to it. Two entire generations of American students have been indoctrinated to view Western Civilization in general, and America in particular, as the focus of evil in the world. But, at least Zinn was open and above board in stating that he wrote from a particular ideological perspective. Unfortunately, most textbook writers are not so honest.
The resistance to change stems mainly from a failure to consider the perspective of the students, following the Behaviorist theory of learning that dominated the 20th century. This cast the teacher or professor as the font of all knowledge, with the mind of the student the empty vessel into which that knowledge would be “poured.” Although this epistemological view has been replaced by Cognitive and Constructivist theories, the pedagogical course of the “ship” of History continues to Advance, resisting a Transfer to a new heading.
Although probably not consciously intended, the concept of “Backward Design”(10), developed by Grant Wiggins and Jay McTighe, follows the management method developed by W. Edwards Deming. In essence, Deming advocated working backward from the customer, studying each process within a company, and making whatever changes are necessary to ensure the customer’s expectations are met. Who are education’s “customers?”
In all cases, the students are the customers. At the secondary school level, the expectations to be met are those of the parents and other citizens who pay the taxes that fund the public schools. All too often, however, the attitude of teachers and administrators is not to meet those expectations, but to tell the customers what their expectations should be. At the college level, it’s clear that the students are the customers. They are the one’s paying tuition.
However, society at large can also be viewed as a customer. Businesses must use the “product” being produced by the educational system. Little thought has been given to what knowledge and skills are needed in the 21st century. YouSeeU is a global leader in soft skill development for higher education and corporate training. In 2015, YouSeeU published a white paper entitled Curbing Global Automation: Why Our Future Rests in Soft Skills. These are the skills that cannot be replicated by machines:
Social Skills – The ability to get along with others
Communication Skills – Oral, written, non-verbal & and listening skills
Higher Order Thinking Skills – Problem solving, critical thinking & decision making
Self-Control – Ability to control impulses & focus attention
Positive Self-Concept – Self-confidence, self-efficacy & self-awareness
The discipline of history particularly lends itself to developing the higher order thinking skills because that’s what historians DO. However, the most significant change must be in what students think ABOUT. Expecting 21st century students to “think critically” about the Salem witch trials is putting a square peg in a round hole. Rather than having non-History majors remember who the Robber Barons were, it would be more appropriate to have them think about why they came to be called Robber Barons in the first place. Did they possess no redeeming qualities at all? What contributions to society did muckrakers like Ida Tarbull make, other than fanning the flames of envy?
As Fischer also pointed out 48 years ago, “there are no facts which everyone needs to know – not even facts of the first historiographical magnitude. What real difference can knowledge of the fact of the fall of Babylon or Byzantium make in the daily life of anyone except a professional historian?”(11)
To keep students engaged, they must see the relevance of the material to their lives and their aspirations for the future. Professors who continue to decide a priori what they believe students should know, either based on their own particular interests because they believe their CV grants them the right to do so, or simply because “that’s the way we’ve always done it”, are doing a grave disservice to both the students and to the larger society.
Endnotes:
1 Ravtich, Diane, “The Educational Background of History
Teachers”, Knowing, Teaching &
Learning History: National and International Perspectives, New York
University Press (New York, 2000), p.
144
2 National Education Association of the United States.
Committee of Ten on Secondary School Studies. (1894). Report of the Committee of
ten on secondary school studies: with the reports of the conferences arranged
by the committee. Pub. for the National Education Association by the American
Book Co.. p. 17
3 Nasaw, David, Schooled
to Order: A Social History of Public Schooling in the United States, Oxford
University Press (New York 1979), p. 77
4 Ibid, p. 78
5 VanSledright,
Bruce A., The Challenge of Rethinking
History Education: On Practices, Theories, and Policy, Routledge (New York,
2011), pp. 21-22
6 Sipress, Joel and Voelker, David , The End of the History Survey Course: The
Rise and Fall of the Coverage Model, OAH Journal of American History, March
2011, p. 1055
7 Loewen,
James A., Teaching What Really Happened, Teacher’s
College Press (New York, 2010), p. 12
8 Zinn,
Howard, A People’s History of the United
States, 1492-Present, Harper Collins (New York, 1980), p. 685
9 Fischer, David Hackett, Historians’ Fallacies-Toward a Logic of
Historical Thought, Harper Torchbooks (New York, 1970), p. 223
10
Wiggins, Grant and McTighe, Jay, Understanding
by Design (Alexandria, 1998), p. 98-114
11
Fischer, op cit, p. 311
