A student of mine who was practice-teaching in an elementary school
decided to introduce her students to what she had learned from my course
about the Pilgrims, the plagues, and Thanksgiving. The professor of education
who supervised her field placement vetoed her plan. “Telling the kids this
information, going against their traditions, is like telling them there’s no Santa
Claus.” He was also concerned that the information might “cause a big
controversy with the families.” With the approval of the classroom teacher, my
student persevered, however. While she received no parental complaints, it is
true that she risked being perceived as hostile or negative by some parents,
administrators, and even fellow teachers.
Teachers do get fired, after all. I have interviewed several high school
teachers and librarians who have been fired or threatened with dismissal for
minor acts of independence such as making material available that some
parents consider controversial. Teachers have been fired for teaching Brave
New World in Baltimore, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest in Idaho, and
almost everything else in between.^90 Knowing this, many teachers anticipate
that powerful forces will pounce upon them and doubt that anyone will come to
their defense, so they relax into what Kenneth Carlson called the “security of
self-censorship.”^91 I am convinced, though, that most teachers enjoy substantial
freedom in practice. “Most teachers have little control over school policy or
curriculum,” wrote Tracy Kidder in Among Schoolchildren, “but most have a
great deal of autonomy inside their classrooms.” In Who Controls Our
Schools? Michael W. Kirst agreed: “Teachers have in effect a pocket veto on
what is taught. An old tradition in American public schools is that once the
door of the classroom shuts nobody checks on what a teacher actually does.”^92
Nonetheless, even teachers who have little real cause to fear for their jobs
typically avoid unnecessary risks.
Perhaps I have been too pessimistic here about teachers. Everywhere I have
traveled to speak about the problems with textbooks, I have encountered
teachers hungry for accurate historical information. I have met many
imaginative teachers who make American history come alive—who bring in
controversies and primary-source material and challenge students to think.
Despite these heroic exceptions in schools all over America, however, the
majority of social studies and history teachers are part of the problem, not part
of the solution.
Let us cast our net even wider. Are all of us involved? The myths in our