The American Journey
That organization distributed National Standards for United
States History to educators throughout the nation, complete
with a preface in which Nash and Crabtree gave the impression
that their "standards" had been approved, and enjoyed some sort
of official status, under the federal Goals 2000 Act.
Their implication was disingenuous. Although the Goals 2000 Act
had established a mechanism for certifying national
subject-matter standards, no standards had ever been certified. In fact,
the certification mechanism had never been activated -- and it
never would be. Soon after National Standards for United
States History was distributed, the whole
standards-certification program was scuttled by the Congress. Furthermore,
there was a direct connection between those two events: The
killing of the certification system was facilitated by
Congressional disgust over National Standards for United
States History -- a document that showed strong ideological
biases against American history, American ideas and American
institutions.
The story did not end there, however, for Nash and Crabtree had
shown drafts of their material to schoolbook-publishers, well
before the National Standards for United States History
document was actually finished and printed. As those drafts were
circulated, some publishers immediately began to work on new
American-history books which would incorporate the "history" and
the ideology that the drafts purveyed. Since then, several such
books have been placed on the market.
[Editor's note: For detailed analyses of two of those books, see
our reviews of United States History: In the Course of Human
Events (in TTL for January-February 1997) and our
reviews of America's Past and Promise (in TTL for
September-October 1997).]
It is advisable, therefore, when one is reviewing any new
American-history book, to assess whether and how the book may
have been influenced by National Standards for United States
History.
I am relieved to reach the conclusion that The American
Journey teaches a great deal of sound, meaningful history,
because three of the authors listed on the book's title page --
Joyce Appleby, Alan Brinkley and James M. McPherson -- are among
our nation's most distinguished historians. It would have been
deeply disappointing if these three had allowed their names to be
associated with a worthless book.
It is unlikely that Appleby, Brinkley or McPherson actually wrote
the prose that appears in The American Journey, since the
vocabulary and style are geared to middle-school readers.
However, the book's main text is so rich in historical ideas and
details that it clearly bespeaks the thought and advice of
professional historians.
The title page lists a fourth author as well: the National
Geographic Society. But the items that are labeled as the work
of the Society are minor and superficial, and they seem to have
been pasted in as marketing devices rather than as contributions
to the education of students.
Conversely, The American Journey reports many crucial
facts that were ignored or obscured in the "standards." For
example: The "standards" did not disclose that slavery and the
ceremonial killing of human victims were prominent aspects of the
great civilization of the Aztecs, nor did they tell that both the
Aztecs and the Incas had built empires by conquest -- but the
writers of The American Journey acknowledge these matters
plainly. They also note that the Spanish conquistadors who
defeated the Aztecs received help from indigenous peoples who had
been subjugated by the Aztecs and who despised their Aztec
overlords (page 51).
Another example: On pages 40 and 41, in an appropriately brief
section about the West African kingdoms that flourished during
the period AD 300 to 1600, students learn that the products which
those kingdoms traded to Muslim North Africa included slaves as
well as gold and ivory. They also learn that Mansa Musa -- the
14th-century African king who was extolled in the "standards" for
the grandeur of his court -- was a slave-owner who brought 12,000
slaves with him when he made a pilgrimage to Mecca. The
"standards" excluded this information, just as they excluded all
other information about indigenous slavery in Africa.
However, The American Journey does not explicitly describe
the function of indigenous African slavery in sustaining the
Atlantic slave trade of the 17th and 18th centuries. The writers
report that some Africans were "captured and enslaved by slave
traders" (page 105), but they don't disclose that the people who
did the capturing and enslaving were other Africans. Nor do they
tell that the slaves were repeatedly bought and sold by African
traders before they were delivered to foreign merchants.
It seems that the Glencoe writers are blurring the facts,
supposedly for the sake of political correctness -- and some of
their other references to slavery are equally obscure. On page
67, for example, a time-line reports that, during the 1700s,
thousands of Africans were "brought to America and enslaved."
Then, on page 68, we read that "Olaudah Equiano (c. 1745-1797)
was an 11-year-old boy when he and his sister were kidnapped and
brought to the West Indies, where they were enslaved. His life
story includes memories of his childhood in Africa." The writers
thus mislead students by using the ambiguous word "enslaved" in
fuzzy, confusing ways. Is it true that Equiano and his sister
"were enslaved" in the West Indies? Yes, that statement is true
-- but only if the reader takes the phrase "were enslaved" to
mean "were held in slavery." The statement is false if the
reader assumes that "were enslaved" means "were forced into
slavery" or "were made slaves." Equiano was made a slave in
Africa, and was owned by a succession of Africans, long before
he was shipped to the West Indies. (See my article about the
Teacher's Guide for the television series Africans in
America), on page 9 of this issue.
Political correctness obtrudes in a few other places, too:
[Editor's note: To learn about another case in which
textbook-writers have promoted the same exercise in presentism, read the
third of our three reviews of Globe Fearon's Global
Studies (in TTL, July-August 1997).]
Students read, for example, that the Englishmen of Massachusetts
defeated Metacomet and his Wampanoags with help from Metacomet's
Indian enemies, the Mohawks. Students learn that not all the
blacks in 17th-century America were slaves -- some were
indentured servants or freemen. And in the section about the
Constitutional Convention, students discover that the
three-fifths compromise was a decision about representation. It
wasn't, as some of today's ideologues allege, the official
acceptance of a racist notion that black slaves were not fully
human. (Delegates from the South, where slavery flourished,
demanded that slaves and freemen must be counted alike. They
advocated this approach because it would maximize the number of
seats that southern states would hold in the new House of
Representatives. The view that slaves should not be counted
fully as persons, for purposes of representation, was promoted
not by slave-holding southerners but by northerners who were
hostile to slavery.)
The section about the period from the Revolution to the end of
George Washington's presidency is extraordinary for its
sophistication and even-handedness. Instead of jumping from
independence to the Articles of Confederation, the writers
examine a critical intervening step -- the formulation of state
constitutions. Later, the debate over the ratification of the
Constitution is described fairly and without bias against the
anti-Federalists (i.e., the losers.)
One of the high points in The American Journey is a
38-page insert comprising "A Citizenship Handbook" and an annotated
presentation of the entire Constitution. In the "Handbook" the
writers discuss the goals and principles of the Constitution, the
separation of powers in the federal system, and the rights and
responsibilities of citizens. In their annotations to the
Constitution, they relate its language, ideas and prescriptions
to actual historical events. Here, for example, is how they
illustrate the operation of the 25th Amendment, which deals with
presidential disability and succession:
This amendment was used in 1973, when Vice President Spiro
Agnew resigned from office after being charged with accepting
bribes. President Richard Nixon then appointed Gerald R. Ford as
vice president in accordance with the provisions of the 25th
Amendment. A year later, President Nixon resigned during the
Watergate scandal, and Ford became president. President Ford
then had to fill the vice presidency, which he had left vacant
upon assuming the presidency. He named Nelson A. Rockefeller as
vice president. Thus both the presidency and vice presidency
were held by men who had not been elected to their offices.
The historical narrative is regularly punctuated by exercises
that seek to encourage the development of various skills -- e.g.,
reading maps or graphs; distinguishing facts from opinions;
interpreting political cartoons; analyzing news reports;
recognizing bias in historical writing; making generalizations;
and drawing historical comparisons. These skills must be
cultivated at the middle-school level if students are to achieve
historical and civic literacy in high school and beyond.
An endemic problem in the production of schoolbooks is that the
writers often rely on conventional wisdom instead of scholarship.
This is particularly disturbing when the conventional wisdom is
wrong. The portrayal of Calvin Coolidge on pages 694 and 695 of
The American Journey provides several cases in point:
Several other omissions from The American Journey are
worth noting. This book never explains that George Washington
was a slave-owner. There is no mention of Alexis de
Tocqueville's insights into American democracy and America's
racial divisions. The account of racism during the progressive
era fails to tell how the Wilson administration promoted racial
segregation within the federal government. And the passage about
the bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama, implies that Rosa Parks's
actions were spontaneous. Parks actually was carrying out a
carefully planned provocation, aimed at providing the basis for
an action at law.
These deficiencies, however, are more than offset by the book's
strengths -- the depth and scope of its narrative, and its
ability to help students understand why historical knowledge is
important to the survival of free institutions. If most students
were to master the history that is presented in The American
Journey, we would have reason to be more optimistic about
American education and about the future of American democracy.
Now, in The American Journey, I see a book that belongs to
a different species.
What struck me when I opened The American Journey was the
feeling that I was facing not a book but a computer monitor, and
that I was viewing images from cyberspace. The pages are full of
color illustrations, sidebars, arrows, symbols, commands and
boxes -- and some of the boxes partially cover other boxes, as
though something has gone wrong and the viewer must move a mouse
or press something to straighten out the screen. To confirm that
The American Journey is taking place in cyberspace,
various sections or chapters end with items headlined "Surfing
the 'Net'." The chapter about the Civil War, for example,
concludes not with questions about the War's significance but
with an exercise in which students just surf around and try to
find information about Lincoln.
In The American Journey, I see a similar formulation,
terrible in its simplicity:
Those assertions are as questionable as the assumption that I
needn't wonder about who I am, or where I came from, because
"God made me" and everything is in God's hands.
Let's get serious. The past can only help us to understand the
present in situations where traces of the past still persist and
still affect our lives. The same goes for using the past to
"understand what it means to be an American." Will modern
Americans acquire a better understanding of the present by
studying static cultures, now defunct, that did not respond
successfully to the challenges of a changing world? No. But
The American Journey says that "Many groups of Native
Americans live in the Americas today. Their history is the story
of many different peoples, all of whom helped shape the American
society we live in today."
Did they? How? What does it mean to say that all those
Amerindian peoples help to "shape" modern urban America, though
they apparently were unable to control even the direction of
their own history? The writers of The American Journey
see no need to explain how extinct Amerindians shaped today's
"American society," just as the writers of the Baltimore
Catechism saw no need to explain how God made me. The
American Journey takes us back to the medieval world of
dogmatism, where each question presupposes its own answer.
This book (or screen display!) contains much valuable material
about archaeology, anthropology and geography, particularly in
the opening chapters that deal with Amerindians and environmental
settings. The problem is that this material is not historical,
since it does not address events and their causes. It does not
lead to any historical awareness about a world that is on the
move.
To understand history is to know why things happened. But when
The American Journey covers the subject of slavery, it
tells what happened without explaining anything. "Between
1600 and 1850," we read, "millions of enslaved Africans were
brought to the Americas on ships" (page 69). Accompanying this
descriptive statement is a long passage that tells how an African
slave named Olaudah Equiano was carried to Barbados, and how
relatives were separated by being sold in different lots:
"Parents lost their children; brothers lost their sisters.
Husbands lost their wives." Not a word about the origins of
slavery or about how people lost their freedom and became
property.
This is not simply a deficiency in the book's story of American
blacks. It applies equally to the history of American whites:
Remember that almost one-third of the colonial population
consisted of white indentured servants. Why did it happen that
so many whites came to the colonies in such bondage? The
writers of The American Journey give no answer.
Apparently, all that a student needs to know about indentured
servants is this:
We ask for knowledge; we get trivia.
The writers of The American Journey pay lip service to the
concept of explanation, on page 125. A "Skill Builder" sidebar
fills the screen, and we read that "A cause is any person,
event or condition that makes something happen. What happens as
a result of a cause is known as an effect." That is all
well and good -- but when writers are preoccupied with producing
"inclusive" material and with mentioning every group of people
that they can think of, historical causes and effects get lost.
The reason for this is obvious. History moves in ways that pay
no attention to the vast majority of the human race. Most of us
have never been causes of anything -- and unless we are descended
from ruling elites, our ancestors weren't causes either. History
ignored them and passed them by (just as it has ignored most of
the people who ever have lived), and they had no causal
significance.
Yet today's political correctness dictates that
schoolbook-writers must pretend otherwise. The writers of The American
Journey, therefore, drag women into history in pointless
passages like this one: "A colonial farm was both home and
workplace. Women cooked, made butter and cheese, and preserved
food. They spun yarn, made clothes, and tended chickens and
cows." Even when the writers cover the women's-suffrage movement
of the 20th century, they simply tell about efforts and events
that led to the adoption of the Nineteenth Amendment. There is
no indication of why that achievement failed to advance women
politically, economically or professionally. All that matters,
it seems, is to show people being active -- but what students
really need is some understanding of the nature of political
power. If citizens lack that understanding, freedom is
unrealizable.
In The American Journey, it often seems that things can't
happen unless everyone takes part in making them happen. In the
chapter on World War 2, we read less about the heroic D-Day
invasion or about the strategic opening of the second front --
with its global military and diplomatic implications -- than
about the ways in which women and minorities of every kind
contributed to the war effort.
The distortions and misrepresentations can be mind-boggling. The
famous photograph of Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin at Yalta is
squeezed down to two inches, but two whole pages are given to
Maya Angelou and her writings. The Kennedy and Johnson
administrations together get three pages, but the civil-rights
movement of the 1960s gets eight, and other recent social causes
get six. Thus fourteen pages are devoted to activists but only
three to publicly elected leaders. One would never know, from
reading this book, that the civil-rights movement and other such
efforts succeeded only because national administrations,
including Nixon's, established and enforced equal-opportunity
laws. One would never know that those successes revolved around
the courts and the Constitution of the United States, not around
multiculturalism and its shibboleths. Radicals find it awkward
to admit that they must depend on conservative institutions to
win their goals.
The American Journey offers responsible coverage of the
Revolution, the Constitution (which is treated extensively) and
the Civil War, though one must wonder why the relevant primary
documents have been placed in an appendix rather than in the
appropriate chapters within the body of the book.
In their treatment of many other subjects, however, the writers
display child-like innocence. Their account of westward
expansion and the Mexican War is not a story about greed for
land. It is chiefly a device for pulling Hispanic America and
Hispanic topics into the narrative. And though the Gold Rush was
a national exercise in rapacity -- Thoreau noted that the
scramble to strike it rich had Americans shaking dirt as gamblers
shake dice -- Glencoe's writers miss this entirely. (They do,
however, provide an exercise in which students are supposed to
reproduce a sluice: "Materials: 1/2 gallon empty milk or juice
carton . . . .")
The American Journey is a study in sycophantic
salesmanship at the cost of scholarly responsibility. But it
probably will be a commercial success, given the climate of
political correctness that prevails in education today. The
irony is that success is a rare phenomenon within the book
itself, because the writers are so wrapped up in their stories of
the poor and powerless, of the marginalized and the oppressed.
After breezing through the Reagan and Bush and Clinton
administrations, the book concludes by reporting that one of our
big challenges today is to dispose of trash. This introduces an
ecological "activity" in which students learn how to recycle
paper. Such knowledge is not inappropriate to The American
Journey.
Sheldon M. Stern, a specialist in 20th-century American history,
is the historian at the John F. Kennedy Library, in Boston.
Since 1993 he has directed the Library's American History Project
for High School Students, helping teachers develop lessons in
which students work with primary sources and learn to evaluate
historical evidence. His recent article "Evidence! Evidence! All
You People Talk About Is Evidence!" appeared in the March 1998
issue of History Matters!
John Patrick Diggins is a Distinguished Professor of History at
City University of New York's Graduate Center (in Manhattan) and
a fellow of the Ligurian Center for Culture (Bogliasco, Italy).
He is a specialist in American intellectual history and social
philosophy. His book Foundations of American History will
be published in 2000 by the Yale University Press.
Reviewing a middle-school book in American history
1998. 933 pages + appendix. ISBN of the student's edition: 0-02-823218-6.
Glencoe/McGraw-Hill, 936 Eastwind Drive, Westerville, Ohio 43081.
(Glencoe/McGraw-Hill is a division of the McGraw-Hill Companies.)
Despite Its Serious Lapses,
This Text Is Rich in HistorySheldon M. Stern
How should American history be taught in our schools? In 1994
the debate over that question erupted into the popular media, and
then into the halls of government, after the publication of a
booklet titled National Standards for United States
History. The booklet had been produced by a California
organization -- led by Gary B. Nash and Charlotte Crabtree --
which called itself the National Center for History in the
Schools.
Commendable Depth
Resisting Corruption
A Strong Narrative
The 25th Amendment is unusually precise and explicit because
it was intended to solve a serious constitutional problem.
Sixteen times in American history, before the passage of this
amendment, the office of vice president was vacant, but
fortunately in none of these cases did the president die or
resign.
Distorted Images
This "History" Text Is a Study
in Sycophantic SalesmanshipJohn Patrick Diggins
I have not laid eyes on an American-history schoolbook since I
taught in a San Francisco high school more than 30 years ago.
In the text that I used at that time, the pages were black with
the printed word. The book offered fine narrative writing, and
it raised questions capable of arousing the student's curiosity
and wonder.
Back to Dogmatism
Q. Who made you?
A. God made me.Q. Why Study American History?
A. Only by learning about the past can you truly understand
the present. Only by learning about your nation's past can you
understand what it means to be an American today.In return for the payment of their passage to America, they
agreed to work without pay for a certain period of time.
[page 88] . . . Servants were termed indentured
because their contract was indented, or folded, along an
irregular line and torn in two. Master and servant each kept
half. [page 113]
Desperate Distortions