other motivation—most likely, greed or power. Therefore, a textbook like The
American Pageant in 2006 emphasizes corruption and minimizes idealism to
discredit Republican behavior in the 1870s and 1880s. How can the nadir still
distort a textbook published in 2006? For one thing, Pageant’s interpretation
of Grant was not written in 2006. It dates to 1956, long before the civil rights
movement had any influence on American history textbooks. Interpretations in
1956 were still based on ideas set in the nadir, and Pageant’s author, Thomas
Bailey, earned his PhD in 1927, in the heart of that period. Interpretations of
Columbus in the 1980s derived from the celebrations of 1892; Chapter 2
showed how new textbooks were influenced by the more complex
remembrances of 1992. Thus when a book is written—or, rather, when its
interpretation of an event was set in our culture—determines what is written.
Some people feel that we should sanitize history to protect students from
unpleasantries, at least until they are eighteen or so. Children have to grow up
soon enough as it is, these people say; let them enjoy childhood. Why confront
our young people with issues even adults cannot resolve? Must we tell all the
grisly details about what Columbus did on Haiti, for example, to fifth graders?
(^97) Sissela Bok wrote a whole book about, and mostly against, lying; but she
seems to agree that lying to children is okay and compares it to sheltering them
from harsh weather.^98
Certainly age-graded censorship is the one form of censorship that almost
everyone believes is appropriate: fifth graders should not see violent
pornography, for instance. Some fifth or even twelfth graders who encounter
illustrations of Spaniards cutting off Indians’ hands or Indians committing
suicide might have nightmares about Columbus. Withholding pornography is
not a precise analogy to whitewashing history, however. When we fail to
present students with the truth about, say, Columbus, we end up presenting a lie
instead—at least a lie of serious omission. I doubt that shielding children from
horror and violence is really the cause of textbook omissions and distortions.
Books do include violence, after all, so long as it isn’t by “us.” For instance,
American History describes John Brown’s actions at Pottawatomie, Kansas, in
1856:
When Brown learned of the [Lawrence] attack, he led a party of
seven men.... In the dead of night they entered the cabins of
three unsuspecting families. For no apparent reason they
murdered five people. They split open their skulls with heavy,