Ethnocentrism in the News

All newspapers, regardless of where they are published, have an ethnocentric viewpoint.  That is because newspapers cater to their readers and what they want to read, and readers most often wish to read about what directly affects their own lives. …. Although the idea of ethnocentricity might be natural, what ought to be questioned is the nature of the ethnocentricity underlying the phenomenon.  In other words, what kinds of affiliations does the focus on us – on our loyalties and interests in a particular place – reveal about ourselves, about how and where we choose to place ourselves in the world?

Segall, A. and Schmidt, S.  Reading the Newspaper as a Social Text.  The Social Studies, May/June 2006.

Of all the things I did wrong (ok,  could have done better) in my student teaching/long-term sub placement, my biggest regret is not incorporating current events and media more effectively in the AP Human Geography class.  We did use current events and news stories in class, of course.  I regularly brought in news articles that illustrated some concept we were studying – outsourcing, genetically modified foods, migration, suburbanization, deindustrialization – and had the students identify and apply the geographic concepts.  Sometimes we pushed further and had excellent critical or evaluative discussions about the topic.  But while I was using media in the classroom, I wasn’t teaching media in the classroom, which is the focus of Segall and Schmidt’s excellent article.

Most of our Methods class discussion on this articled centered on the authors’ main point, that newspapers (and other media, by extension) are social constructs that present someone else’s choices about who and what is “news.”  The danger for readers lies in accepting these choices as objective truth, not subjective choice.  The task for readers (and for us, as teachers) is to challenge those choices and the reasons behind them, and to ask, whose voices and stories aren’t we hearing and why?

But as I was re-reading the article this week, as well as focusing more on the Geography class that I am still teaching, I was intrigued by the spatial aspect of their argument.  Geographers have terms and models that explain the natural ethnocentrism that the authors refer to:  the gravity model posits that the larger and closer something is to us, the greater its pull and attraction on our attention and actions; the idea of distance decay says that the farther away we are from something, the less we care about it and the less we are affected by it.  (Human Geography is not rocket science.)  But geography can’t answer the second part of the question – what does this say about how we place ourselves in the world?  How does that ethnocentrism translate into how we spend our time, energy, and resources? Who we value and who we do not?  Should we try to fight against distance decay and care more about far-away places, and if so, what criteria should we use to replace distance and familiarity?  Can we care about everything?

Lots of questions here, and unfortunately, I asked my students to contemplate very few of them this semester.  In the spirit of reflection and improvement, however, I did find a great and engaging tool to begin the exploration that could inform some of those conversations.  The site is called Newsmap, out of Palo Alto CA (and my AP HUG class could, in fact, explain why so many high-tech firms are located there).  The link is http://newsmap.jp/ 

From the Newsmap site:

Newsmap is an application that visually reflects the constantly changing landscape of the Google News news aggregator.

A treemap visualization algorithm helps display the enormous amount of information gathered by the aggregator. Treemaps are traditionally space-constrained visualizations of information. Newsmap's objective takes that goal a step further and provides a tool to divide information into quickly recognizable bands which, when presented together, reveal underlying patterns in news reporting across cultures and within news segments in constant change around the globe.

Newsmap's objective is to simply demonstrate visually the relationships between data and the unseen patterns in news media.

Google News automatically groups news tories with similar content and places them based on algorithmic results into clusters. In Newsmap, the size of each cell is determined by the amount of related articles that exist inside each news cluster that the Google News Aggregator presents. In that way users can quickly identify which news stories have been given the most coverage, viewing the map by region, topic or time. Through that process it still accentuates the importance of a given article.

Newsmap also allows to compare the news landscape among several countries, making it possible to differentiate which countries give more coverage to, for example, more national news than international or sports rather than business.

Enjoy. 

Does Teaching Citizenship Require Teachers to Go "Off-Script"?

“Again, teachers need to recognize the static nature of standards and frame their instruction accordingly. Recent studies have found that social studies classrooms rarely utilize discussion, and scholars often point to standards-based education as a contributing factor (Parker 2006, Wilen 2003). The SOLS contain few standards designed to stimulate discussion; therefore, teachers must act on their own to foster the ideas of deliberation in their classrooms.  A similar argument can be made for participatory and social justice aspects of citizenship.  It is the responsibility of educators to encourage students to participate in democracy in order to develop the habits associated with active citizenship, rather than to simply reap its benefits as passive spectators.”

Journall, W.  Standardizing Citizenship:  The Potential Influence of State Curriculum Standards on the Civic Development of Adolescents. 2010. 

Wayne Journell critically examines the Virginia Standards of Learning for civics (8^th grade) and government (12^th grade) in this article, which raises a host of questions about both how we define citizenship and how we teach it to our students.  The primary focus of the article is on classifying the content of the standards into different categories of citizenship education.  Unsurprisingly (at least for anyone familiar with Virginia), the majority of the standards fall into the Civic Republicanism category, which focuses on the nuts and bolts of good citizenship – voting, being patriotic, obeying laws, and understanding the structures of the US government.  Even the standards that he classifies as Deliberative or as Social Justice have an arms-length feel to them. (For example, one of the Social Justice standards has to do with understanding property rights, while others focus on protection of individual rights.) 

While the main idea of the article is illuminating, I was struck by a passage above in which Journell recommends that teachers overcome the static nature of the standards by fostering deliberation and encouraging active participation in democratic processes in the classroom and in the community.  He sees these activities as the means by which students develop the habits of active citizenship, not as the ends of citizenship instruction.  This constructivist, learn-by-doing approach is in stark contrast to what too-often happens in the classroom – students passively receive instruction on those habits of citizenship, and teachers hope that some of them will stick.  Journell’s challenge to teachers is to mine the standards as a starting point for discussion, which could certainly encourage a level of questioning and deliberation that I’m sure the SOL committees never intended, but which would engage students in valuable learning and development as citizens.

I found in my own classroom that the standards can be used to launch a variety of discussions.  The most interesting happened when I asked students to consider why the standards writers chose a certain piece of information vs another. In the 11^th grade US History standards for the Cold War era, the recommended “Essential Question” for Standard 13c is “How did America’s military forces defend freedom during the Cold War?”  The corresponding “essential knowledge” includes the following:

•  President Kennedy pledged in his inaugural address that the United States would ―”pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty.” In the same address, he also said, “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.”
•  During the Cold War era, millions of Americans served in the military, defending freedom in wars and conflicts that were not always popular. Many were killed or wounded. As a result of their service, the United States and American ideals of democracy and freedom ultimately prevailed in the Cold War struggle with Soviet communism.

Delivered at face value, the standards offer a very narrow view of both “the ideals of democracy and freedom” and American actions against communism in the Cold War.  Worse, the standards don’t require students to grapple with the tough questions of history, such as whether the US was justified in overthrowing elected rulers in countries that did not conform to the US version of “freedom.”   Was the US justified in “supporting any friend” if those friends were repressive anti-communist regimes?  How do we, as a country, balance competing interests? What do we mean by “freedom and democracy”? Why don’t the standards mention any of the more problematic areas of US actions during the Cold War? 

While these questions sparked lively debate and some genuine soul-searching among patriotic teens, I felt dangerously off-script in asking them.  But practicing these deliberative skills and encouraging students to ask these tough questions are how I hope to help my students develop “habits of active citizenship.”  I wish I had had the time with them to explore ways to apply those skills outside the classroom and to current events, and perhaps to have them write SOLs for more recent US history.  I share Journell’s dismay at the static nature of so many of the civics and government standards, and I fear that the same problem extends into the history standards as well.

Exhibition for what purpose?

Both research evidence and our own experiences in schools, then, suggest that the drawbacks of requiring students to display historical information to hold schools accountable are likely to outweigh the potential advantages. There is little evidence that such testing increases students’ experience with reasoned judgment, expanded views of humanity, or deliberations over the common good.  In fact, there is evidence that in some cases, such features of humanistic education are being pushed further from the curriculum than ever and are being replaced with practices that expose students to a narrow range of content, taught in an ineffective manner.  Far from contributing to participatory democracy, exhibition for the purpose of accountability may be undermining the potential benefit of history education for democratic citizenship.

Barton, K. and Levskit, L.  Teaching History for the Common Good (2004), p.117-8.

I was amused to read how Barton and Levstik approached the “exhibition stance” chapter of this book with their noses pinched and their heads turned.  They were reluctant to write the chapter on the most problematic of the stances – the exhibition of historical knowledge, either for its own sake, for the glorification of the exhibitor, or for the rote regurgitation of facts on a standardized test.  I was pleased that they eventually found a few bright spots to focus on – exhibition in service to others, the potential for meaningful and holistic testing.  I also reflected on their commentary about the role of museums and the power of exhibition to shape  narrative and interpretation for others (especially in light of our recent trip to the Smithsonian, and the reservations of our docent about the authoritative nature of many of the curator's placards).  But in writing this week, I feel like I have to comment on the initial thrust of the chapter. 

The excerpt above sums up both my earlier suspicions and now, my experience with teaching in a test-focused environment. Yes, there are potential advantages to holding schools accountable for a (somewhat) standardized curriculum.  My own 8^th grade Language Arts experience was an exercise in futility – a “creative free-spirit” teacher who felt that the traditional curriculum (say, grammar and writing) was too limiting, and that we should instead have lots of experiences to discuss and journal about.  We spent lots of time outside or doing aerobics in the classroom (she was an instructor…hey, it was the 80’s).  We did not spend much time, however, exhibiting any actual mastery of new skills, nor learning the mechanics of writing.  As a result, many of our classmates entered high school with some serious gaps in our preparation.

The idea of standards, and of students being held accountable for demonstrating mastery of certain skills, does not bother me at all.  But when the Essential Skills and Questions of History that could form the basis of a standard curriculum get taken over by page after page of “Essential Knowledge” (i.e. discrete facts), then we see the scenario that Barton and Levstik describe: “a narrow range of content, taught in an ineffective manner.”   Conducting meaningful inquiry-based activities or holding challenging discussions where students debate real issues takes time, and also requires that the students have access to rich content to build knowledge and understanding of historical events -- all prerequisites for exhibiting mastery.  That’s hard to do if you’re pressured to cover all of WWI in two class periods, so that you can cover the Depression and New Deal the following week.  I have a million ideas for meaningful activities and ways to engage the students authentically with the content…but the cost of that is a very hit-or-miss coverage of the breadth of the “facts” they will expected to know. Which is a greater service – or disservice – to my students? 

I’m trying to straddle a middle ground now, picking and choosing what I emphasize and trying to develop meaningful activities that reinforce the key facts while encouraging the students to question and think for themselves.  Those are the real skills that I want them to take from my classroom and exhibit in the world.  Frankly, I could care less whether they remember that Sam Gompers founded the AFL and Terence Powderly the Knights of Labor.  I’d much rather they understand the big picture of why labor unions developed and why they had such a hard time gaining traction, and then consider where the boundaries should be between protest and violence, or what the government’s role should be in regulating the market.  I want them to speak out, from a reasoned perspective, and feel that they are equipped to participate.  I just wish that their end-of-year tests could measure that.

Don't Ignore the Ripple Effects

“A second way of reducing the constraints imposed by the nation’s master narrative is to involve students in continual consideration of the advantages and disadvantages of historical changes and events.  Among the most basic questions students should learn to ask about any topic in history are, “Who benefited from this, and how?  Who suffered from it, and how? “ ….. Any historical event significant enough to study in the first place invariably impacted diverse people – and diverse groups of people – in different ways, and conclusions about the overall desirability of any such event must take into account this range of experiences.”

“If [students] are to make reasoned judgments about the common good, they will have to consider a wider range of evidence and interpretation than narrow stories of progress can provide.  Passionate conviction that the nation will solve its problems cannot be accompanied by a mindless belief that everything that happens is for the best; a better future depends on more complex and nuanced understandings.”

Barton and Levstik’s Teaching History for the Common Good (2004), p. 181-182

     Barton and Levstik’s critique of the “national narrative of freedom and progress” centers on how it limits students’ ability to understand historical events, their causes, and their consequences.  This national narrative superimposes one dominant story onto past events, emphasizing the expansion of freedoms and the gradual improvement of society.  In doing so, however, this dominant narrative leaves little room for alternate perspectives, for the “losers” in the march of progress, and (my favorite), the unintended negative consequences of complex events.    

     The authors suggest two approaches to mitigate the limitations of narrative as a historical tool.  The first approach they suggest is to raise the curtain on the narrative itself;  that is, to shine a light on the story being told, who gets to tell it, and how those factors change over time.   This first approach dovetails nicely with the historical investigation methods in Bruce Lesh’s  Why won’t you just tell us the answers? Teaching historical thinking in grades 7-12. (2011)  Lesh involves his students in a variety of historical investigations to raise the curtain on narrative, exploring how cause-and-effect and chronology are used to construct narrative, how multiple perspectives are condensed into the winning interpretation, and how those interpretations can evolve over time.  As valuable as this approach is, however, I’m not convinced that it is sufficient to mitigate the limiting power of the narrative on historical understanding.

     The second approach Barton and Levstik suggest is to take more of a systems-theory approach to history, involving students in a more “complex and nuanced” analysis of the diverse ripple effects of any historical change or event.  Students must look beyond the simple cause-and-effect diagrams in the textbook to consider both intended and unintended consequences of any historical event or decision.   They must also get past the simplistic notion that change equals progress (for all).  In addition to asking who benefitted or suffered from a change or event, students must explore the how and why.  Were there power differentials that prioritized some needs over others? Did one group benefit at the expense of another?  Or were there simply blind spots in the decision-making process?  Which is more comprehensible (or reprehensible?):  that the interests and well-being of an entire group of people could be intentionally harmed, or that those interests were never even considered as part of the decision-making process.

     I spent time last week teaching about the Progressive Era in AP US history.  My classes explored the reformers’ various efforts to right the wrongs they perceived in society, economics and government.  But when we analyzed motives, it was hard for the students to consider multiple perspectives simultaneously.  They were uncomfortable with the Progressives’ silence on lynching and Jim Crow in the south, with the concern for immigrants’ well-being that went hand-in-hand with a belief in eugenics, with Wlson’s support for Birth of a Nation.  While considering this complexity of motives is an explicit part of the AP curriculum, it is nowhere to be found in the VA SOLs that form the basis of my “regular” history classes.  Surely, classrooms that are more likely to represent the diversity of status and perspectives in America are capable of considering those diverse ripple effects in history?

     These questions resonate deeply with me, and are a big part of the reason I’ve chosen to teach social studies.   We can only attempt to help our students understand the complexity of events and decision-makers by considering them in their historical context and attempting to consider the ripple effects that spread outward.  Barton and Levstik’s thesis – that the purpose of social studies education is to prepare students to make reasoned judgments about the common good – requires that we at least attempt to scale some of that “nuance and complexity”, even if we know we will just be able to scratch the surface.

Modest goals and baby steps

“The goal is not to train a new generation of historians.  Instead, the historical investigation model is designed to generate student interest in studying the past, engender competence with a set of thinking skills that will benefit them beyond the school walls, and promote an understanding of the major events, people, and ideas that populate the American past.”  

Lesh, B. A. (2011).  Why won’t you just tell us the answers? Teaching historical thinking in grades 7-12. [73].

     After reading Barton & Levstik’s high-level view of the purposes for learning (and teaching) history, and after reading Wineburg’s persuasive arguments for grappling with the pitfalls of applying modern understanding to the past, I found this week’s reading to be refreshing and real.  I was particularly struck by his goals for teaching with history labs, so clearly stated in the excerpt above.  While he engages students both in authentic inquiry and in questioning the text, context, and subtext of primary historical sources, he is clear and modest about his purpose. He is not trying to create mini-historians or promote historical thinking as an end in itself; nor is he out to change the world.  He is simply trying to spark a bit of genuine interest in the topic, to empower students with transferrable skills to question and think for themselves, and (hopefully) learn something about American history.  What I like best about Lesh is the strong presence, not just of the classroom, but of the actual teenager throughout the book.  I can see the cell-phones and the bookbags just as well as the political cartoons and primary sources.   He never forgets his target audience, likely because as a classroom teacher, he's looking at them every day.

      Lesh is also realistic (and compassionate) about how he defines “competence” in the thinking skills he teaches. He doesn’t apply adult (or grad student) standards to his students.  They are teenagers who are just developing the ability to do the types of critical thinking and writing that he’s teaching.  They won’t all “get it,” at least not at first, and some perhaps, not at all.  The spark of interest and the fruits of the critical thinking were not fully apparent in the performance or final products for many of his students.  But Lesh encourages us not to give up.  It seems almost radical to suggest that the attempt and the exposure to a new way of thinking about history – that it is not just a litany of facts to be memorized and regurgitated – may be a success in itself. 

     I find Lesh to be inspiring in a “doable” way.  In my own practice, I am still struggling to master content, ensure “coverage” (that word!) of key material for AP and state tests, and keep my head above water with grading, assignment prep, test-writing, and staff meetings.  Taking two or three class periods for a in-depth inquiry into one topic – not to mention carefully selecting the resources and adapting them to my students (who I’m still getting to know) just does not seem feasible….but does it ever?  Likely not.  Lesh makes me think I might be able to take that leap of faith and spend 45 minutes this week examining primary documents about the Rail Strike of 1877 before we “cover” it in class.  Baby steps are ok – after all, Lesh taught for two years before he really began implementing this approach, and he’s been adapting it and reflecting upon it for over a decade. I've been at it for six weeks. We will still be “behind” where the syllabus says we should be, but I’m tired of watching my students take notes while I lecture, or answer questions from a reading guide.  I feel like I’m doing them a disservice.  I want to encourage genuine interest and the sense of agency that Lesh promotes as students examine visuals and documents, and construct “history” for themselves.     

   Baby steps.

Welcome to the Journey

Although I'm technically almost done with my initial licensure requirements to teach high school social studies, my first month in a classroom* has demonstrated just how much I don't know.  Looking forward to posting and sharing thoughts as we journey through the research on teaching kids to think historically and "do" social studies.

* I am about six weeks into a long-term substitute teaching position that seemed like a great idea at the time.  Ok, it’s still a great idea –  if it doesn’t kill me.  Suddenly inheriting three preps -- two of which are AP classes who are approximately 2-3 weeks “behind” schedule – is perhaps not the easiest environment in which to apply all the great things I’m learning here.  But it's my environment, and my laboratory, I suppose.  It's certainly real.