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In framing the American mindset toward history, historian Richard Hofstadter wrote that we as a people prefer "a spirit of sentimental appreciation rather than of critical analysis." In other words, under a veil of blind nostalgia, Americans quickly become attached to a particular narrative as the one correct interpretation of a murky past. Challenges to this worldview, then, are often met with the most vitriolic of reactions, as champions of the established historical guard fiercely defend that which they consider "proper" American history. This explains why the recommendations offered by the Texas Board of Education to textbook publishers have inflamed debate over the integrity of our nation’s curriculum. Divisive terms such as "brainwashing," "conservative," and "partisan" color the controversy as each side derides the other for skewing history for political gain. The question of whether the Board’s actions are justified has been opined upon to no end. But such haranguing distracts from a larger issue at hand; the controversy should force Americans to reevaluate their entire sense of history and cast a more critical eye on the interpretation of our past. It’s tempting and easy to consider one interpretation of American history an unequivocal fact. A thorough reading of Howard Zinn’s "A People’s History of the United States" can make a lasting impression on the reader’s sense of the past. However, this is but a singular lens through which to view a very abstract construct. Someone studying the more conservative interpretation offered by Larry Schweikart’s "A Patriot’s History of the United States" will hold a countervailing perspective on the events that shaped this nation. When a debate over curriculum arises, either side will maintain that their’s is the true history, while the other’s is but partisan indoctrination. This either-or attitude does little to advance the critical analysis that is necessary to fully understanding our past. There is no "true" history, only honest and open discussion of the past. Only through mature dialogue about these differences can anything productive emerge from such a bitter argument. While critics allege that the Board is advancing a conservative agenda, some of the proposed nuances to the teaching of American history may, in fact, provide a fuller analysis of events to the curriculum. For instance, Cold War historians of either political persuasion have long believed that the Venona documents—recordings of Americans who spied for the Soviet Union during the McCarthyism era—deserve mentioning in textbooks. Also, while the inclusion of the Black Panthers in discussions of the civil rights movement may taint its image somewhat, it is nevertheless crucial to understanding the evolving militancy of black mobilization in the mid-sixties. So before opponents associate all of the recommendations as mere brainwashing, it’s important to see that there are gaps in our history that must be filled so children will have a more balanced analysis of our complex past. Social sciences rarely offers a single answer to the questions they present, and thus in interpreting the past, we must not view historical interpretations as inherently antagonistic to each other. The debate involving the Texas Board will eventually subside, but the bigger issue regarding the way we perceive our history will persist. The complacency of our interpretative mindset fails to advance the inquiry into what got us where we are today. In order to gain a better sense of ourselves we must synthesize different perspectives to formulate a more conscientious analysis of who we are as Americans. If we can do this in the midst of this hostile debate, then Americans can perhaps finally prove Hofstadter’s interpretation delightfully false. John W. He ’13, a Crimson editorial writer, lives in Weld Hall.
In framing the American mindset toward history, historian Richard Hofstadter wrote that we as a people prefer "a spirit of sentimental appreciation rather than of critical analysis." In other words, under a veil of blind nostalgia, Americans quickly become attached to a particular narrative as the one correct interpretation of a murky past. Challenges to this worldview, then, are often met with the most vitriolic of reactions, as champions of the established historical guard fiercely defend that which they consider "proper" American history. This explains why the recommendations offered by the Texas Board of Education to textbook publishers have inflamed debate over the integrity of our nation’s curriculum. Divisive terms such as "brainwashing," "conservative," and "partisan" color the controversy as each side derides the other for skewing history for political gain. The question of whether the Board’s actions are justified has been opined upon to no end. But such haranguing distracts from a larger issue at hand; the controversy should force Americans to reevaluate their entire sense of history and cast a more critical eye on the interpretation of our past. It’s tempting and easy to consider one interpretation of American history an unequivocal fact. A thorough reading of Howard Zinn’s "A People’s History of the United States" can make a lasting impression on the reader’s sense of the past. However, this is but a singular lens through which to view a very abstract construct. Someone studying the more conservative interpretation offered by Larry Schweikart’s "A Patriot’s History of the United States" will hold a countervailing perspective on the events that shaped this nation. When a debate over curriculum arises, either side will maintain that their’s is the true history, while the other’s is but partisan indoctrination. This either-or attitude does little to advance the critical analysis that is necessary to fully understanding our past. There is no "true" history, only honest and open discussion of the past. Only through mature dialogue about these differences can anything productive emerge from such a bitter argument. While critics allege that the Board is advancing a conservative agenda, some of the proposed nuances to the teaching of American history may, in fact, provide a fuller analysis of events to the curriculum. For instance, Cold War historians of either political persuasion have long believed that the Venona documents—recordings of Americans who spied for the Soviet Union during the McCarthyism era—deserve mentioning in textbooks. Also, while the inclusion of the Black Panthers in discussions of the civil rights movement may taint its image somewhat, it is nevertheless crucial to understanding the evolving militancy of black mobilization in the mid-sixties. So before opponents associate all of the recommendations as mere brainwashing, it’s important to see that there are gaps in our history that must be filled so children will have a more balanced analysis of our complex past. Social sciences rarely offers a single answer to the questions they present, and thus in interpreting the past, we must not view historical interpretations as inherently antagonistic to each other. The debate involving the Texas Board will eventually subside, but the bigger issue regarding the way we perceive our history will persist. The complacency of our interpretative mindset fails to advance the inquiry into what got us where we are today. In order to gain a better sense of ourselves we must synthesize different perspectives to formulate a more conscientious analysis of who we are as Americans. If we can do this in the midst of this hostile debate, then Americans can perhaps finally prove Hofstadter’s interpretation delightfully false.
In framing the American mindset toward history, historian Richard Hofstadter wrote that we as a people prefer "a spirit of sentimental appreciation rather than of critical analysis." In other words, under a veil of blind nostalgia, Americans quickly become attached to a particular narrative as the one correct interpretation of a murky past. Challenges to this worldview, then, are often met with the most vitriolic of reactions, as champions of the established historical guard fiercely defend that which they consider "proper" American history.
This explains why the recommendations offered by the Texas Board of Education to textbook publishers have inflamed debate over the integrity of our nation’s curriculum. Divisive terms such as "brainwashing," "conservative," and "partisan" color the controversy as each side derides the other for skewing history for political gain. The question of whether the Board’s actions are justified has been opined upon to no end. But such haranguing distracts from a larger issue at hand; the controversy should force Americans to reevaluate their entire sense of history and cast a more critical eye on the interpretation of our past.
It’s tempting and easy to consider one interpretation of American history an unequivocal fact. A thorough reading of Howard Zinn’s "A People’s History of the United States" can make a lasting impression on the reader’s sense of the past. However, this is but a singular lens through which to view a very abstract construct. Someone studying the more conservative interpretation offered by Larry Schweikart’s "A Patriot’s History of the United States" will hold a countervailing perspective on the events that shaped this nation. When a debate over curriculum arises, either side will maintain that their’s is the true history, while the other’s is but partisan indoctrination. This either-or attitude does little to advance the critical analysis that is necessary to fully understanding our past. There is no "true" history, only honest and open discussion of the past. Only through mature dialogue about these differences can anything productive emerge from such a bitter argument.
While critics allege that the Board is advancing a conservative agenda, some of the proposed nuances to the teaching of American history may, in fact, provide a fuller analysis of events to the curriculum. For instance, Cold War historians of either political persuasion have long believed that the Venona documents—recordings of Americans who spied for the Soviet Union during the McCarthyism era—deserve mentioning in textbooks. Also, while the inclusion of the Black Panthers in discussions of the civil rights movement may taint its image somewhat, it is nevertheless crucial to understanding the evolving militancy of black mobilization in the mid-sixties. So before opponents associate all of the recommendations as mere brainwashing, it’s important to see that there are gaps in our history that must be filled so children will have a more balanced analysis of our complex past.
Social sciences rarely offers a single answer to the questions they present, and thus in interpreting the past, we must not view historical interpretations as inherently antagonistic to each other. The debate involving the Texas Board will eventually subside, but the bigger issue regarding the way we perceive our history will persist.
The complacency of our interpretative mindset fails to advance the inquiry into what got us where we are today. In order to gain a better sense of ourselves we must synthesize different perspectives to formulate a more conscientious analysis of who we are as Americans. If we can do this in the midst of this hostile debate, then Americans can perhaps finally prove Hofstadter’s interpretation delightfully false.
John W. He ’13, a Crimson editorial writer, lives in Weld Hall.
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