Beware the Lies of the March (of HISTORY!)

This post focuses on structure. For a more content focused discussion, please click here to go over to the vlog.

This is what I like to call a, “required post.” See, this blog started out as an assignment for class (“But why stop there?” He thought. “This is fun!” He thought. “I’m sure it won’t take up too much extra time.” He thought.), and the class is still on going. I’ve already hit the required number of posts, but two have a pre-set topic.

1)    A book review (hint hint, that one might be this post)

2)    A multi-media extravaganza, a sensual ravishment (cue more Moulin Rouge quotes)

So, today, for your enjoyment, I proudly present

Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Teacher Got Wrong

(c.o. https://www.amazon.com/Lies-My-Teacher-Told-Everything/dp/0684818868/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1476318873&sr=8-2&keywords=lies+my+history+teacher+told+me) (See? I cite my sources.)

See…old, vintage pictures!

Revisit…amazing facts locked away in the recesses of your intellect.

Learn…the sordid truth that you knew all along: your teacher was an evil, lying mastermind! Their job: torture you with the two sinister femme fatales—Miss Information, and Miss Interpretation!

Except not.

Full disclosure: I love history. No, love isn’t strong enough. I want to marry it, and have two beautiful children, and live in a suburb, with easy access to…OK, maybe not quite that much. But it’s clearly a passion of mine.

Full disclosure #2: I really enjoyed this book. I love learning new things—all those little tidbits that you bring up at parties, and then have people awkwardly walk away because they have no idea what to say—and this book is filled with fun facts.

That being said, I have a few problems with it.

First off—and I know that this will look like a weird critique, but work with me on this—this book was written in 1996. It’s been 20 years, and a lot has changed. How do I know? Because my schooling brought me into contact with two of the textbooks, years after, Lies was published.

1)   The American Nation: Used in my seventh grade Humanities class. I didn’t really like it at the time, so my opinion might be a wee bit biased.

2)   The American Pageant: Used in my APUSH class. I loved the book, and I loved the teacher who used it, and I loved the class it was in. Once again, I might be a little biased here.

So, what does this fact have to do with anything? Textbooks change. By the time that both textbooks got to me, they had both been revised; and I would say, in hindsight, that, Lies had an effect on those revisions. True, The American Nation struck me as dry and unpatriotic, but not nearly as exceptionalism-driven as, Lies makes it out to be. Likewise, The American Pageant had been greatly changed by the time that I got it. Gone was the Woodrow Wilson, clad in shining armor of perfection! Instead, we get a man—still, I might say, held a little too high—who ultimately failed in his goals. The textbook calls him out for his…erm…”helping hand,” shall we say, in America’s “back yard,” although not as much as, Lies would like. Pageant also now remarks on the later part of the Wilson presidency, particularly how he became so infirm, and how his wife took on a suspiciously auspicious role as the deliverer of his will.

Not that I’m reading anything into that.

Furthermore, Pageant does bring up the fact that Hellen Keller was a devoted socialist, a fact that the textbook presents as neither positive nor negative (which, quite frankly, is in my opinion the correct view to take about a lot of history). In other words, many of the examples that the textbook uses have become somewhat dated.

All that being said, my biggest issue with the structure of the book is how formulaic it is. Just look at the first chapter: it starts out with an introduction to show the problem, provides evidence in the form of two American heroes, compares and contrasts them, and then concludes with a solution. It’s just the basic, “compare and contrast to solve a problem” essay. In truth, I don't mind that, since most essays can be boiled down to a specific form. However, the sheer acreage the chapters take up don’t support the amount of content in them. I guess—and, let’s get real, given the size of these posts, I’m a little hypocritical here—I don’t feel as though the content really supports how much space it takes up. I feel as though the authors should have had shorter chapters, or included more examples. I know that it’s a small thing, but it makes me feel like the book was a bit of a wasted opportunity. The chapters either could have been short and sweet—the kind of thing that you can read while you’re on the bus—or so jam packed full of ideas that it would be almost impossible to argue against them. Then again, that’s just y two cents.

So, what’s my overall impression of the book? I like it, as I’ve said, and I think that it served an important niche. That being said, I think that we need a new edition. The textbooks used in classes have a powerful impact on what students learn. Even if a student never cracks one open, the teacher still aligns what they teach with the material—giving the course a sense of cohesion—so that those who do read are not as confused. And, there is a bit of a textbook problem these days.

Texas is one of a few states that recently changed their history curriculum. The move is towards what I would call a more biased history, one that focuses on the positives and always tries to paint the US in a healthy light. In other words, it rose tints the lenses that we use (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/news/texas-textbooks/ [I'm not actually that fond of Huff Po, but I didn't feel like clicking on another source]). This fact wouldn’t be too much of a problem, except that the state of texas holds an almost alarmingly disproportionate percentage of the textbook market. Basically, if Texas makes a choice, it affects everyone, even those from states with vastly different curriculum.

That fact is why books like, Lies are important. They not only correct misconceptions, but give teachers and students an alternative to the history that they are taught. Clearly, I don’t think that history should be positives. History is this wonderfully messy, uncomfortable, undulating thing, where the good idea of one period turns into the problem of another. By only teaching a positive view of history—by ignoring what, Lies brings up—we teach kids that history is linear, and that nothing we do can go wrong. So, when things do go wrong, we have intense nostalgia for the past, even when it’s just as messed up as the future. So, I urge you, look at the kind of messy history brought up in, Lies—look beyond this overly patriotic habberdash that counts as, “the one true history”—and find something more real, more attainable, and altogether more human.

This has been another exciting adventure in the austentatious! If you liked it, tell your friends. If you hated it, tell your enemies. And if you don’t care either way, then tell everybody. Peace out.