War by Alternate Means: Native American Boarding Schools in the 19th Century

  In the late 19th century, the United States saw the emergence of a multitude of government funded and operated boarding schools, as well as religiously operated boarding schools. Over 500 schools across 38 states operated between 1879 until approximately the mid 1960’s, each with a uniquely distinct student body. These residential schools were established, and systemically formulated in order to hold and ‘educate’ Native American children. A single common philosophy both connected and fueled each and every one of these boarding schools; “Kill the Indian, save the man”.[1] In 1879, Lieutenant Richard Henry Pratt was authorized by the United States government to establish the first school dedicated to ‘saving’ Native Americans as well as proving as a race, they can be educated. Pratt upheld the belief that through the process of assimilation into Anglo-American culture, Native Americans could successfully live and prosper among white standards of civilization and life. The Carlisle Indian Industrial School, founded in Carlisle Pennsylvania, was the first official government funded Indian boarding school of the time. This school was the first of many that would center the idea of assimilation through education as a saving grace for Native Americans and the Native American race. Children of these communities would be legally kidnapped, imprisoned and forced to attend these schools in an effort to put a stop to Indigenous lifestyles and its passage down to future generations, and destroy these customs and cultures to be replaced with a ‘civilized’ culture. Experiences across these institutions vary with few being considered positive and a majority ranging between poor and abysmal. While each school may have had its differences, their goals or philosophy remained constant, connecting them all through a shared objective; kill the Indian.  

Native American history after the introduction of white colonization becomes a tragic and violent segment of American and United States history. Regarded as simply a small facet of the larger, paler picture of American ideology, this history is constantly neglected, keeping it from deeper analysis and understanding. Primary sources such as records from the federal government or official school reports provide insight into a perspective that aims to justify these boarding schools, lasting damage and cultural genocide. Their goals of assimilation and cultural erasure (through violent means if deemed necessary by the offenders of said violence) is supported by an argument that paints a picture of righteousness, compassion and service. This concept is best recognized as a ‘white savior complex’ highlighting the incessant need to intervene by white communities in races and nations that did not ask nor need it. This argument, or perhaps better yet, this belief was that Native American populations were “savage”, particularly in comparison to Anglo-European standards. The culture, traditions, customs and people were positioned as less than that of white society and members of it, formally fixing whiteness at the top of a socio-racial hierarchy. As a result of this mentality, ‘saving’ these people and communities became understood as the duty of those who are properly ‘civilized’, and it is the duty of the educated, Christian and white to combat and correct Indigenous lifestyles. The belief was if Native ‘savages’ are to survive, they must do so through emanating civilization to the white standard, otherwise their barbaric ways of life would lead to their demise. Through the guise of salvation, white colonists believed the humane alternative to slaughtering Natives for their land and own peace of mind was to force Native children into schools that stripped them of their customs, cultures, identity, and in some cases, their lives. Is it possible to wage war through education? The United States in the 18th century saw the powerful emergence of these hostile Native American boarding schools, used as mechanisms of assimilation. Through these residential schools, Native American children resisted, conformed and lost their lives as a result of what could be considered alternative war. Alternative war, through education.

As with any historical line of study, approaches to research into the process, history and impacts of Native American boarding schools have varied. These variations are a result of influential social or political factors, becoming products that are farther in tune to their time period than historians may realize while they compile, and create. In addition to being influenced as well as an inevitable product of the time in which they were researched and written, historical works on a topic can also simulate a ‘road-map’ for modern historians to consider as an outline of comprehension on any given topic throughout history. Over the course of American history research and study, three major schools of thought have formed around the discourse of Native American boarding schools, each providing deeper insight into the broader understanding of this historical account.

The first school of thought is known as the ‘Traditional View’, as the title suggests, this school of thought is traditional in the sense of who is telling this story, how they are telling it and finally, why. This “view” is dominated by official government excerpts, and white influential individuals who often frame these schools as a natural process, essential for the benefit of America, (white) Americans and most importantly, the benefit of Native Americans. The traditionalist view is marked by the years of scholarly and historical work done prior to the 1960’s, before the federal government ended its participation in funding these residential academies in 1969. This historical view decidedly does not include first-hand testimonies of Indigenous children who experienced these institutions, or families who lost their younger members to these schools. As one may predict, these primary sources center the voices and testimonies of those who cannot critically analyze their own actions and ideologies as racist or misguided. More recent works in comparison to sources from the time, such as Church, State, and the American Indians: Indian Missions in the New Nations, published in 1966, include insight into the intersection between religion, and the ‘Indian mission’.[2] In this work, as well as similar works, authors such as Pierce Beaver tend to lack a critical understanding of the topic focusing mainly on the story of their formation from the perspective of those who formed them, even referring to the schools as a place where “Indians” could advance (or become accustomed to) their American conceptualizations of accepted morality.[3] This school of thought dominates a majority of American history related to this topic, with a shift in perspective arising as a result of an explosive Civil Rights era.

Less than five years after the publication of Beaver’s work, a new approach to Native American and Native American boarding school history began to take precedence. The second school of thought related to this historical line of inquiry is marked by the period of time between the 1970’s to the mid 1990’s. Known as the ‘Critical Revisionist View’, this school of thought shifts away from a narrative of justification and towards one that begins to emphasize the brutality and barbaric nature of Native American treatment throughout history. Rising in conjunction with Civil Rights movements and organizations, specifically the ‘Red Power’ movement, a civil rights movement advocating for the equal rights and protections of Native Americans in the United States and under the United States government. This view centers indigenous survivor testimonies, the role of systemic injustices and violence and prejudices rooted in white-supremacy. However, this school of thought still did not prioritize Indigenous authors, or historians to share their own history and experiences. The rise of this highly critical historical analysis particularly in association with the rise of Native American civil rights movements is a highly powerful influence to this line of historical study, and can be understood as a defining shifting factor between schools of thought and historical approaches to this historical narrative.

The third and final school of thought related to this history is known as the ‘Decolonizing Perspective’. This view and approach to Native American history and history of their schooling is marked by the late 1990’s, and is considered the current approach to this line of historical inquiry. This approach aims to center Native American scholars, testimonies and historians as the storytellers of their own history and experiences of their communities and people. This approach shifts beyond a view that creates a false image of Native American people as passive victims who simply accepted horrific treatment, with no agency or attempts of resistance against these oppressive and hostile practices. While these notions of history are not excluded in this modern approach, more focus is lent to examples of Indigenous children who survived, resisted and fought back against forced assimilation, in an attempt to uphold and retain their identities and culture. This school of thought is part of a historical movement committed to help aid in the healing of historically marginalized and oppressed communities by empowering members who  share identities with those who faced gross oppression. This perspective is helping Native populations to reclaim and properly share their stories, even for a portion of history that was directly dedicated to destroying those same identities.

If the United States waged war through a Trojan Horse of education, one might find it important to reasonably define war in order to compare the concepts. War is defined by the use of violence and force through a nation’s military in pursuit of a political goal.[4] This definition is slightly contradictory to what one might imagine would be the technical meaning or definition of what characterizes a war. One might assume war is characterized by a battlefield, strategy, weaponry and bloodshed, all of which carry a portion of truth to them however, all of which additionally paint the picture of literal war or more accurately, battle. In addition to force, for a conflict to be considered war, it typically includes a sense of organized force or strategy as opposed to violence alone. Furthermore, war typically carries with it destruction, death and widespread violence against an understood enemy. When researching this history, these characteristics can be reasonably applied to the story of Indigenous residential schools, leading one to a chilling conclusion of academic hostility against a community, through the youngest members of said community.

One might find themselves questioning why an Indigenous guardian would be willing to send their child, in a majority of cases, off their reservation and far away from home to be schooled by white people. The answer is fairly simple and most likely predictable if one has prior historical knowledge of American or Native American history. It was not a choice. Prior to complete federal involvement through policy and funding, all Native boarding schools were operated privately, most by Catholic institutions[5] with the distant support of state and federal governments. Towards the end of the 19th century marks the beginning of the federal government and Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) efforts to become more centrally involved in this process of ‘educating’ Native Americans through existing Indian policy. This existing Indian policy originally belonged to the Secretary of War and the same department, due to a contested past and relationship prior even to this time.[6] Eventually, this Bureau was converted to the Department of the Interior (DOI) which took and continues to take responsibility for issues related to Native Nations and their reservations, including issues of legality, sovereignty and United States government outreach. Through the BIA and efforts of the federal government, policies regarding Native American education began to take root. Treaties between Indigenous nations such as the Sioux agreed to these educational practices, considering them a service of the United States government to Native communities and their children as well as their futures. Motivated by a desire for more territory, the idea was an ‘educated Indian’ required less land than a ‘wild Indian,’ this idea contrasted the belief that Native Americans were incapable of civilization, eventually pushing for more involvement and support from both the government and public.[7] Policies enacted by the federal government through the Bureau of Indian Affairs required Indian children of the appropriate age to be taken from their homes and families to attend these schools via “proper means”.[8] These policies were not originally considered priority by many states and institutions, however in 1887 a series of legislations passed through the BIA, including the Dawes Act (1887), made eluding federal school requirements for children and families more difficult. Additionally, the Dawes Act officially and legally allowed for said ‘proper means’ of removal and relocation to these residential campuses in question, to be that of force. Federal and state officials now had given themselves legal standing over sovereign communities to essentially kidnap Indigenous children from their families and reservations and force them to attend a school that would strip them of their cultural identity against their will.

The United States government made no mistake when targeting the youngest members of Native American tribes through their boarding schools.[9] This approach was extremely plotted and strategized in order to achieve two specific socio-political objectives towards the advancement of a white-centric American society. The ulterior motives of the United States behind helping Indigenous populations are both straightforward and ambiguous. The first that one might consider ‘straightforward’ is the deep-rooted desire to expand westward and expand the territory of the United States, a desire that established Native Americans as obstacles rather than people, who had been occupying the land first. The second, possibly more ambiguous motive is rooted in racial and racist ideologies tactically carried out and enacted by the federal government through these institutions in order to position white people, the culture, religion and customs sternly at the top of a social and political hierarchy. Due to the fact that education became the popular alternative to strategized murder because of economic concerns held by the federal government, if Native Americans and white colonizers were expected to be neighbors, an ideal of superiority and inferiority would need to be instilled through acculturation. Prior to the Dawes Act, otherwise known as the General Allotment Act, the accepted form of schooling for Native children was the typical day school. Children would go to school in the morning, and return home to their families in the evening, much like schooling as one may understand it today. However, concerns began to arise from officials and citizens alike, claiming that children could not fully avoid a “savage” upbringing if they simply return home to continue to be raised by their ‘uncivilized’ families and communities. In order to combat these concerns, the shift from day schools to residential schools was officially made, under this new strategy Native children would be taken from their homes and reservations at a young age, and allowed to return only after they reached the age of a young adult and completed their education. For an overwhelming majority of schools, this would mean students would not be allowed much, if any, contact with home, family or guardians nor would they be allowed visits. Essentially, this tactic was to ensure Native children would be completely isolated from their community and heritage. In this way, these children could be enclosed in a bubble of whiteness with little to no prospects of maintaining or learning their own cultural identity and effectively being fully indoctrinated into a white-centric society and culture. This shift was accompanied by the forceful nature in which the federal government employed its military to kidnap children and forcefully remove and relocate them to these residential institutions. Acculturation was no longer optional nor enforced leniently. This approach and these legislative acts also coincided with a new desire of the United States to begin taking individual records and consensuses of Native American people and communities on reservations.[10] With this angle, it would be difficult for Native children to avoid being taken or accounted for when it came time for them to be enrolled in school. Additionally, the United States government would have complete access to files and records containing nearly every one of their ‘enemies’ individually. It is clear in this way that these schools were not established in pursuit of “moral, intellectual, and social improvement of the Indians,”[11] as it was framed by official federal reports. This approach, or strategy, can better be understood as a piece of a larger plan that aimed to destroy Native populations through the education of their youngest members of their societies.

The transfer from day to residential schooling signifies the lengths of control the United States government would take in regards to Native American assimilation education. Through this use of military force and the passage of the Allotment Act, the federal government aimed and successfully accomplished an objective of disbanding and fracturing unity among tribes in order to replace tribal lands with more allotted land and space to the government for the use of its citizens.[12] By kidnapping and isolating the youngest members of a tribe, oppressors instilled a sense of fear in Native communities, fear of their children’s wellbeing, as well as extended violence against themselves and their communities back home. This political motive of land expansion is quite clear through the process of isolation, acculturation and resulting negotiations and land seizure. Dismantling the community from within through a process of separation between the younger and older generations in the community was not the only tactic exercised by United States and institutional officials. Through their white education and process of assimilation, ideologies of community reservations were replaced with the idea of individual land ownership, and farming as a means of life and prosperity. With more and more Native Americans choosing to own their own smaller plots of land to build and live on with their families in contrast to returning to their reservations and communities, which was highly discouraged by their new society as well as school officials following their graduation from these schools and departure into society as Americans.[13] With fewer Indigenous children returning home, advocacy and ownership over land became increasingly difficult and negotiations between Native nations and the federal government led to further expansion and apprehension of Native territory.[14] Through force, fear and a tactic of assimilation, the federal government and residential institutions effectively established a system that would inevitably create a vacuum of land for their enjoyment and usage. It is clear that a direct result and motive of schooling hinged on what could be gained by the United States and the society that was being established through what was being instilled in Native children, as well as proceeding negotiations and land gained for the country.

As one can observe in American history, studies of oppression and marginalization from one major group against another, are typically that of a racial basis. American history is plagued by systems and institutions put into place to uphold a racial and social hierarchy, fixing white people and whiteness at the top. Since the conceptualization of race and the ‘othering’ mentality[15] that came as a result of its invention – which was used as a justification for oppression – race has been a harbinger of violence and conflict throughout the history of the United States. Since European colonizers arrived in America, race has acted as a powerful driving force for much of the darkest parts of the country’s history, including that of the actions taken aggressively towards Native Americans. These actions were not taken simply against Indigenous people, but as a community with their own customs, deeply established and rooted on the lands desired for white colonizers and their own communities.

Race alone as an invention or discernible identifying factor does not necessarily bear conflict. Racism and proposed racial hierarchy, while a result of the invention of race, it is this decided intolerance that truly bears conflict and inevitable violence. Racism is the true centraldriving principle behind these boarding schools, and for people such as Lieutenant Richard Henry Pratt, it was this ideology of difference, status and inferiority that supported the belief that whiteness is superior to all others. It was important to white Americans that this hierarchy be established and not just understood, but agreed upon by Natives through an education that is both fueled by and teaches racism.[16] This racist ‘fuel’ helps to feed the idea that Native communities are placed significantly beneath white people and white culture and therefore must be saved, whether these nations are open to their ‘help’ or not.[17] Founded on the idea that Native children and people must be saved by erasing their current customs and cultures in order to make room for the decidedly superior white culture, these schools needed to integrate concepts of racial hierarchy in order to justify the steps and actions taken in pursuit and inside the walls of these residential schools. Furthermore, justification was not only a necessity for these schools to operate and function externally, but internally among the student body as well. If this was something that Indigenous nations and people were opposed to, or resisted against, the need to ‘help’ them was so great, it would turn to violence, coercion and force.

For as long as humans have worshiped gods and practiced religion, there have been conflicts, violence and war fueled by faith. Religion has long been a harbinger of violence, battle and adversity – and the experiences and history of Indigenous people in Native American boarding schools are no exception. The religious and cultural practices of Indigenous nations and people were yet another facet of society that was considered inferior to the white-centric society that was being forced into place for all inhabitants of the United States. Due to the earliest boarding schools being privately owned and operated by Protestant and Catholic institutions through the support of little federal funding, one might recognize the weight religion held on the process of assimilation. Religion guided virtuous civilized Anglo-American culture, similarly, religion guided the ‘savage’ culture of Native Americans, therefore religious assimilation was one of top priority since the original establishment of these residential schools.[18] To force entire nations – each with their own religious customs and traditions – to conform to a single, Christian form of religion, is an attack in itself. It is a blatant attempt to try and conquer an entire group of people from the inside out starting with their faith, which guided much of their lifestyle, especially at the time. This point becomes increasingly clear when one begins to consider the strategy behind educating children, and not physically battling adults for socio-religious dominance. 

Today, public schools, public education systems and even private education systems all vary in a multitude of ways. Schools within the same state and district can find themselves with less in common – in terms of process, administration, structure to name a few – than they would have originally thought. This same concept applies to that of these residential schools. The main differences between the ‘types’ of these schools lies with religion. Some schools were operated by Catholic institutions and managed by Catholic immigrant nuns, others centralized Protestant religious beliefs, similarly being operated by nuns, and finally very few academic institutions that were federally operated, minimized or disposed of the inclusion of religious assimilation practices. In author, educator and historian James T. Carroll’s work,[19] he researches the unique perspective of Catholic boarding schools and the nuns who managed them in the assimilation efforts of Indigenous children. The schools he focused on were primarily situated in both North and South Dakota, with the majority of their students being that of Sioux heritage. These institutions uncommonly created an atmosphere of compromise, and the women who ran them permitted much of the student body’s culture and customs to be maintained, even within the borders of campus in what is considered a sincere attempt to blend Catholicism and Sioux culture.[20] What was allowed was that which was deemed ‘acceptable’ or, in other words, not “too savage” to the average white American. What one might find most questionable is that the nuns managing these schools were hired by the federal government to “Americanize” Native children, when they themselves were new to American culture and society as immigrants. Hailing from countries such as Germany, France and Switzerland and finding themselves in these schools upon arrival, one might ponder what qualifications an immigrant who is new to America might have for teaching American values and customs? Had the main goal of these schools been to ‘Americanize’ or civilize Indigenous children, it seems the proper way to achieve this would be through American educators. However, the federal government’s consistent use of immigrant Catholic nuns symbolizes an ulterior motive, of which prioritizes not American culture, but whiteness or white culture. Even for immigrant religious women, who knew nothing more of the culture the United States was attempting to establish than Indigenous children and communities, they were trusted and hired due to their similar customs, and more importantly similar appearances.

Wars are not waged or fought without the intention of a political acquisition. Whether it be retaliation, land, resources or defense (among others), war is not fought with the intention to lose money, resources and lives. The United States federal government’s usage of boarding schools as a mechanism of assimilation into white culture was an attempt to erase an entire culture and the identities of those who belonged to it. The goal was to better suit Native ‘savages’ to live alongside white settlers, as opposed to the justification used, characterized as beneficial to Natives. The point of the schools in fact was not to ‘save the man’ but rather more specifically to ‘kill the Indian,’ in terms of each part of their identity, culture and religion in an attempted cultural genocide.[21] All actions taken and procedures formed are indicative of a goal aimed towards destroying the culture as well as the passage of culture to future generations. If white colonizers were expected to continue their expansion west and share lands with Native Americans, the only feasible way for this to happen would be if they assimilated to white standards. When applied to the concept of war, the political goal here can be recognized as instituting a society based on a racial hierarchy through an aggressive, ‘educational’ process of cultural genocide. This idea of genocide was hidden behind a guise of service, protection and prosperity for the Native nations, however in reality it was yet another attack on their lifestyle, representing nothing but an attitude of disparagement deeply rooted in a natural aversion to those who are ‘different’, or to put more simply, not white. This was a way to “kill the Indian” with the moral burden of literally taking their lives, or the economic burden of a physical genocide.[22] 

            The overwhelming employment of foreign educators and nuns in these institutions is a clear display of the United States priorities in ‘Americanizing’ and ‘civilizing’ Native Americans. It was all too common that white immigrant women would arrive in America and immediately begin work in these residential schools in an effort to help civilize these populations.[23] What one might find interesting about this dynamic is the fact that these immigrant women themselves, were not American. Similarly, new to the culture and customs the United States was building and abiding by, one might assume them unfit to the teachers of a society they themselves were not a part of. The difference between these immigrant women and Native Americans lies solely in the color of their skin and the closer resemblance their society and cultures operated. Through the usage and employment of women from countries such as Germany and Switzerland[24] to ‘Americanize’ Native Americans, the United States was establishing more than a mechanism of civilization, but rather a mechanism establishing white superiority. In teaching these children the civil American way, what was being instilled in reality was a sense of whiteness as a fixed priority to American culture, as well as an internal opposition to their own heritage. It is clear that Americans looked down upon the entirety of Indigenous culture and way of life and went to extreme lengths to replace an entire race and ethnic identity in pursuit of dominance. Because priorities shifted from genocide to assistane due to concerns of costs in order to overtake Native land, this meant white populations would be expected to neighbor with Native populations. In this case, it seems “save the man” was intended more for the white man and his peace of mind of what he finds acceptable, rather than the true benefit of Indigenous children and communities. These schools, above all, were established to “civilize” Native Americans, based on what Anglo-American settlers considered civilized by their own standards of living. Additionally, in doing so the racial hierarchy was instilled even deeper into the fabric of United States government and society. The United States government took the opportunity of schooling to instill this sense of white superiority in non-white students, creating what is essentially brainwashed individuals, forced into abiding by standards of a society that depends on their oppression.

            Primary sources from students during their time in these residential schools provide many interesting insights, in both what could be considered a positive and negative light. Author and professor of Native American literature Jacqueline Emery’s work, Recovering Native American Writings in the Boarding School Press, compiles a wide arrangement of primary accounts of students in school newspapers. The papers are sourced from a few schools, as not many allowed their students a school press. The papers were student run and featured many different submissions from their student body. The sources and newspapers include short stories as a way to maintain cultural heritage through storytelling, as well as editorials from students based on their opinion of schooling and what they were being taught and more. Things like a school newspaper became an outlet for students to maintain their identities as Native Americans, or find a platform to express themselves as new Americans. In this way, sources such as this provide a look into forms of both resistance and full assimilation from the students who experienced this education first hand. One source written by a young Native school boy, details the way in which he now looks down upon Native customs and culture in comparison to white society and Christianity. Joseph Du Bray uses words such as “Indian”, “civilized”, and “foolish”[25] when describing Native customs, of which he was once a part of with a clear recollection of events, and some formative upbringing. “Before the Indians became civilized they used to have foolish accustoms. I will tell you a few of them…”[26] It is clear the language Du Bray chooses here and his opinion on the subject matter are a result of his upbringing and education. Referring to himself and his people as ‘Indians’ as opposed to their actual Native nationality would have been something that was reiterated in his schooling, including the belief that prior to United States intervention, Native nations were uncivilized. Furthermore, the use of the word “foolish” against his own customs, which he recounts with clear memory of living with and being taught prior to his time at school, is highly indicative of an environment that emphasized the idea that being Native and Native culture was significantly inferior to white culture. Without the intervention of the United States and religious missionaries, would Du Bray have ever felt this way about his own culture, heritage and people? Would he truly have considered white culture superior to his as he implies, without the efforts of assimilation and brainwashing provided by the United States government? Sources such as Du Pray’s provide one with the ability to see the actual successful results of assimilation on individuals and how it would come to benefit the United States and its ideologies of white superiority. 

            Does it seem wise to send a child to a school with its own cemetery? The implications of an on-site cemetery are grim, and while the practice itself was not uncommon, it is who is being laid to rest in these cemeteries that are cause for concern. More commonly reserved for religious institutions, religious leaders and staff, schools reserved for the acculturation of Indigenous youth confronted a death toll that centered around the student body, as opposed to staff.

Nearly every residential school had its own graveyard, most likely initially intended for the use of staff, the cemeteries quickly became overpopulated with students who would lose their lives to abuse, disease, neglect and mistreatment.[27] These institutions were framed and justified as constructive and valuable to the civilization and successful lifestyle of Native Americans, though, were this genuinely the case one might safely conclude that the students here would not be losing their lives at a steep rate due to neglect. This was due in part to conditions of the school and school life for children as a result of frugal and abusive practices. The idea had been presented that schooling Native children would cost half the price of which it would cost to engage in war with Native Nations. Projected costs to take the life of a single native were seen at 1 million dollars, whereas educating the native would cost about $1,200.[28] These economic concerns fueled an ideology that separated violence from the education being inflicted upon Native children and by extension, their Nations. For American policy makers as well as school and government officials, it was the cheapest, most virtuous form of war that could be conceptualized against the entirety of the Native American population in the United States. The frugal practices in question are gross examples of neglect against children who were regarded as disposable due simply to their heritage and ethnicity. Proper nutrition, food preparation and food services to the children were not commonplace across these schools, leading to hundreds of students dying as a result of malnutrition or starvation, in fact, it was more common for institutions to use food as rewards and punishments.[29] In addition to improper meal services, students were provided with poor clothing that was not suitable for weather or disease ridden conditions. Furthermore, it was no beneficial factor that an overwhelming majority of these institutions experienced overcrowding to levels that proved hazardous for student health and the spread of disease.[30] If the goal was to ‘save’ Indigenous children’s lives through assimilative education, how could circumstances be so poor that they could go so far as to take them?  In order to manage the death toll at a single boarding school, school officials would send a child who was near death, home to their families and guardians so as not to add to their rising tallies.[31] While this was not the case for all schools – some being much kinder to their students and their students’ culture[32] – an overwhelming majority of these schools were guilty of mistreating students in a multitude of ways. The justification of a white man’s ‘salvation’ does not stand in the face of the conditions of neglect and loss of life that resulted. It is clear that those who were in a position of power to establish these dynamics regarded the schools as a cheaper, nicer, alternative to war. However given the extreme levels of neglect, it seems that the goal of assimilating or “killing” the ‘Indian’ were of a higher priority than the wellbeing, and even lives,  of children.

            School is meant to be regarded as a safe space for children, to provide them care and assurance for their lives and more importantly, their futures. Based on records and sources, one can only conclude that this was not the case nor the goal of a single Native American boarding school established. Sadly, neglect and poor conditions were not the only causes for concern a child might hold while attending one of these institutions. Cases of physical, sexual and emotional abuse were all too common for an overwhelming majority of institutes and students. Due to the federal foundations of these institutions and the fact that their existence is dependent on a mentality of racial and cultural inferiority, accountability for these instances of abuse were virtually non-existent.[33] The violence faced and experienced are indicative of a system whose primary goal is not to benefit Natives as individuals, or a race. Given the fact that the true nature of these schools was to act as a backdoor for a physical war, in a more creative process of destruction and land seizure as opposed to a violent one,[34] mistreatment and death were no cause for concern nor investigation at the federal or institutional level. One educator, John Boone[35] was accused and found guilty by the Federal Bureau of Investigation for sexually assaulting over 140 young Native school boys, and faced zero repercussions by the Hopi School, where he worked or the federal government. Accounts and accusations of abuses of any kind from students against faculty are sporadic, due largely in part to the fact that these accusations were ignored and remained uninvestigated by school officials in attempts to protect their staff. Additionally, due to the lack of federal protection from instances such as sexual abuse, schools would not only choose to not reprimand staff, but outwardly refuse.[36] The lack of basic human protections in these institutions from both the federal government as well as school officials paint a haunting picture of what the average life was like for students, and what these children experienced daily, for years. It seems that based on the average treatment, these schools were considered less of schools and more of housing institutions, where crime against Native youth was acceptable on account of an education that was not for them but an act of violence against them, and their culture. Because America and white Americans had a strong desire to continue to expand west, and needed a morally permissible and cheap alternative to genocide, there was little regard for their protection and well-being. In short, the experience at these schools was extremely violent and devastatingly poor, and as one can presume, not because it is the ideal learning environment. Rather, conditions and experiences were so dreadful for a majority of students who attended because it was not about their education, but control, under white dominance and a racial hierarchy that centralized white superiority. In a society by this design, Anglo-American populations could find themselves in a place where abuse was acceptable, of which many would take advantage in an ongoing conflict of culture and territory. Modern federal and historical investigations estimate the cost of young children’s lives to be nearly 1,000, across over 500 schools, many of whose families were never informed and their bodies buried in unmarked graves. Actions that much more reflect a singular goal of ‘killing the Indian’ rather than saving them, in any regard.

            Given the mistreatment, the widespread philosophy and the assimilative nature of these schools, it is no surprise that Indigenous students and adults alike, resisted this overwhelming oppressive force. Unfortunately, as discussed earlier, attending these schools was not a matter of choice for Native American children or their guardians after the passage of the Dawes Act in 1887. People are not prone to comply with oppressive powers, nor do they resist in the face of systems that are harmless to their well being.[37] In order for a conflict to reach a level of war, there must be two sides fighting, and Native American populations fought despite narratives that portray them as docile or accepting of oppressive powers. Not all Native Americans were resistant, some embracing the ‘help’ of the United States and assimilation into a white culture, however a vast majority did not accept this treatment and tried to the best of their abilities to fight back, or hold on to their heritage. If resistance to attendance was no longer  plausible, Native children would find ways to resist within the walls and confines of the school. Finding ways to maintain their identities, culture, traditions and language by any means they could conceive, while simultaneously avoiding detection and repercussions from school officials. Some forms of student defiance can be understood as more positive in efforts of cultural maintenance. These efforts would lead to the development of a ‘sub-culture’ among students that was formed in direct defiance of strict school rules and regulations, as well as neglect.[38] The crime of stealing became common among schools and integrated into this resistant subculture, in an effort to combat mistreatment that would inevitably lead to malnutrition and starvation for many Native children. Stealing and sharing of food to combat hunger was a defining characteristic of community and resistance among these schools, bringing students together in support of each other, against what they felt and recognized as oppressive forces.[39] The frequency of reported instances of stealing and organization among students to work together to steal is representative of how often large numbers of students were abused through food at the direct hands of these institutions. Another common form of resistance across schools was the usage of Native language despite its usage being forbidden in favor of the English language. Older students would guide younger students, teaching them when it was safest to speak and how to successfully avoid being caught by school officials.[40] In these ways, community and culture was able to be maintained in secret, providing at least a partial positive outlet for indigenous children to maintain their identities and connections.

Connection, community and heritage were not the only forms of resistance taken by the students of these boarding schools. Suicide was highly common as a form of escape for many Indigenous children attending these institutions and experiencing their brutal realities.[41] Conditions so poor and dire that they lead children to a point where the best possible means of escape is death. These systems were not designed with the best interest of these communities and children in mind. In order to resist mistreatment, abuse or rejection from the major Anglo-American society taking over the entire territory of the United States, some students would even attempt to run away from home, despite the design of these schools being specifically that prospects of making it back to their home reservations were dim due to their distance from reservations. When caught, students who attempted to flee the schools would be punished severely, reports of shaven heads were common as a result of this attempted escape.[42] Another account of harsh punishment shares the experience at a school where “language offenders,” or students who had been caught speaking their native language, would be punished routinely by having a needle stuck through their tongue.[43] In some cases resistance was successful and in others, it added to the misery being faced by these young indigenous children.

The tragic story of Native American oppression at the hands of the United States federal, state and local governments, as well as its citizens operating under the influence of a deep-rooted white-centric American hierarchy, is still a very prevalent issue indigenous communities face in contemporary times. Federal financial support for Native American boarding schools and Native American education was officially concluded in 1969, coinciding with the rise of the Red Power movement in the late 1960’s, a civil rights movement fighting for the equality and rights of Indigenous communities and people. However, oppression against these communities did not end with the conclusion of financial support. Traces of racism and generational trauma both contribute to startling statistics of poverty, suicide, mental health and racial violence faced by the Native American community today. Psychological and historical studies reveal the connections between these shocking statistics of life for Native individuals and communities and the historical violence and oppression they have faced for centuries, continuing well into the twenty-first century. Studies reveal the psychological effects of intergenerational trauma of Native residential schools, being that of a lack of compassion.[44] An analysis of this effect furthermore extends into higher risks overall of ‘negative behavioral patterns’ including substance abuse.[45] Trauma related to this history results in a mentality of ‘historical loss’ shared among members of a historically marginalized group.[46] This mentality feeds into the issues related to low self esteem and that of loss, loss of land, family, culture, autonomy and more can deeply affect the mental health of not one single person, but an entire community. Given the cause and effect relationship between United States intervention, followed by the United States’ abandonment of a community that was cultivated to be dependent on their oppressors,[47] coupled with over 100 years of an education designed to instill deficit ideologies of identity within thousands of members of a single community, it comes as no surprise that Native communities face such negative circumstances of life on a grand scale. The United States was highly successful in their objective to dismantle and destroy their ‘enemy’ to a degree that is still felt to this day. Furthermore, had the call for Native equality not been so powerful during the Red Power movement, the United States may have continued their funding of Native educational institutions. Oppression against Native communities was not simply a ‘product of the times’ so to speak, rather a system that was intentionally established and continues to be intentionally benefited off of by people and communities in positions of power.

  In an article published by The Washington Post in 2024, researchers spent a year investigating the true number of lives lost in, and at the hands of these residential schools, and furthermore, by the federal government.[48] The official number reported by the United States government was close to 1,000 lives lost, through an investigation of official government and school documents, as well as testimonies and sources of students who attended these schools, the Washington Post’s research team and investigation revealed the true nature of death resulting from these school was more accurately, well over 3,000. This research highlights many troubling aspects that further illustrate the cruelty of these institutions, as well as the United States government and people. Records indicate that around 800 of these children lost their lives and were buried on school property in unmarked graves, many having died with no notice home to inform family. Additionally, the intentional, or unintentional inaccuracy of the reported death toll further emphasizes the continued disregard the United States government had, and has for Native communities. The loss experienced is a direct result of American intervention, and colonization. Research and analysis today into the history, impacts, and reparations surrounding assimilative residential schools continue to reveal the brutal treatment and negative effects Native children faced. Historical authors and researchers that can be considered part of the decolonizing historiographical perspective such as Judi Gaiashkibos help to shine a light on the violence and cruel nature of these schools, and how it affected children and for Gaiashkibos, family; “These were not schools, they were prison camps. They were work camps.”[49] The inability to take full accountability and accurately represent the lives of children lost, even as recently as 2024, further emphasizes the success of this racist educational strategy of centering whiteness in American culture, as well as domination over the multiple nations of people deemed ‘savage’. Continued investigation into this harsh history also highlights the continued impacts that are still very much felt by indigenous communities today, who continue their effort in framing these schools out of a perspective of education and into violence, or more accurately, war against Native Americans.

The history of Native American boarding schools is one of violence, force, assimilation and white superiority. The children who attended these institutions experienced exploitation, abuse and mistreatment in a variety of ways, simply because staff and officials could treat them this way, and accepted it because they had effectively positioned them as people lower than that of white people. The United States government employed the usage of their military to forcefully relocate and kidnap children from their homes and reservations, to specifically brainwash and assimilate them into what was deemed ‘civilized culture’. This system and process was unkind and cruel, with thousands of children dying under the care of government funded schools that forced them against their will to attend. Using the children for exhausting work and starving them of food to the point where they began to band together and steal food can not be framed as beneficial for their lives and futures as Americans, of which they never asked nor necessarily agreed to be. Targeting the youth in order to instill fear, dismantle unity from within, and use this fracturing of community to further negotiate more and more land for the allotment of the United States was the purpose of these institutions. Additionally, brainwashing the youth into believing white culture is superior to their own, and even accepting their lower position in this hierarchical society based on race. In order to save money, and remain moral in some ways, while still gaining what was desired, boarding schools designed specifically to educate and assimilate Native youth were the perfect way to carry out “killing the Indian”. In order to cater to the comfort of Anglo-Americans who would be living side by side with Natives, their dominance would have to be solidified in a new American order. These tactics, strategies, mindsets and approaches paint a picture of violent assault on a community to a shockingly high degree. Rather than engage in a war with weapons, ‘man versus man’, it was an alternative war of ideology and identity. The United States attacked their enemy through their impressionable, youngest   generations and abused them into compliance and assimilation in order to achieve a society, social rank and allotments of land that were acceptable, and beneficial for the white majority. 

Native American history after the introduction of white colonizers is one of the darkest and most negative parts of the United States and Native American history. The mistreatment of these children can only be understood as an act of war against Native Americans, in a way that was more morally acceptable than blatant violence and bloodshed. The abuse faced in these institutions cannot be justified as beneficial or useful methods of learning by any means, leading only to harm, death and trauma that extends beyond generations and affects the lives of Native individuals, communities and relations with the United States government today. The mistreatment and little regard for the well-being and lives of indigenous youth, coupled with the resulting socio-geographical gain won by the United States was no mistake. The educational residential institutions may have been framed as beneficial and supportive of Native success and longevity of the race, however actions and results speak of a different narrative.

In order to secure Natives into the lowest rungs of a white centric society, seize their land and finally, legally abuse and murder them, (all while remaining financially conscious) these schools were established. How could the exploitation of students for physical labor relate to the language they speak or the religion they follow? While not all schools shared the same horrors of violence, some even being fairly positive places, the goal was always the same: “Kill the Indian, save the man.” Had concerns of faith and costs been different, or balanced in the opposite direction the call to war would have been much clearer and far less sneaky. The purpose of these institutions, above all, was to enact war against an entire people and their way of life in a subtle, yet nearly equally violent manner. In this way the United States effectively waged an alternate form of war, through the guise of salvation and education.

Native American history is one of, if not the most neglected history of the Americas. For most American students, the chances of learning more about Native Americans past the fictitious happy narrative of the first thanksgiving is rather slim. Educators of history, both future and present, have the opportunity to join the historical reconciliation movement that has arisen with the decolonizing perspective of Native American histories. Truth is of the utmost importance in the history classroom if we are to help students better understand the present through the history of their home. Secondary students are not in need of a sugar coated narrative of history, and would much more benefit from an understanding of history that faces the truth, even the darkest  parts head on, instead of sweeping them aside to maintain a happy image of the United States. Furthermore, as previously mentioned Native populations face some of the most grim statistics of any other group in the United States, due in part to the history of assimilation boarding schools, as well as many more aspects of history that continue to go untold. It is important for educators to learn and acknowledge these histories, not only in pursuit of historical reconciliation, but to analyze and understand the many ways in which schooling can be used as a tool for success, as well as manipulation. In a time where teaching history is as contested as ever, it has never been more important to understand education in this way, to ensure it is being taught for the good of our students, and not for ulterior motives.

References

Adams, David. Education for Extinction: American Indians and the Boarding School     Experience, 1875-1928. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1995.

Beaver, R. Pierce. Church, State, and the American Indians: Indian Missions in the New Nations. Saint Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1966.

Carroll, James. Seeds of Faith: Catholic Indian Boarding Schools. New York: Garland Publishing Inc., 2000.

Crawford, Neta C. “What Is War Good for? Background Ideas and Assumptions about the Legitimacy, Utility, and Costs of Offensive War.” British Journal of Politics and International Relations 18, no. 2 (2016): 282–99. https://doi.org/10.1177/1369148115613662.

Devens, Carol. “If We Get the Girls, We Get the Race: Missionary Education of Native American Girls.” Journal of World History. Vol. 3, No. 2 (1992).

Emery, Jacqueline, ed. Recovering Native American Writings in the Boarding School Press. University of Nebraska Press, 2020.

Haig-Brown, Celia. Resistance and Renewal: Surviving the Indian Residential School. Canada: Tillacum Library, 1988.

Henriksson, Markku. The Indian on Capitol Hill: Indian Legislation and the United States Congress, 1862-1907. Helsinki: Finnish Historical Society, 1988.

Hill, Edward, E. Guide to Records in the National Archives of the United States Relating to American Indians. Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Service, 1981.

Lomawaima, K. Tsianina, Bryan McKinley Jones Brayboy, and Teresa L. McCarty. “Editors’ Introduction to the Special Issue: Native American Boarding School Stories.” Journal of American Indian Education 57, no. 1 (March 1, 2018): 1–10. https://doi.org/10.1353/jaie.2018.a798593.

McBride, Preston. “Indian Boarding School Deaths, Burial Sites Far Exceed U.S. Government Counts.” Washington Post, December 22, 2024. https://www.washingtonpost.com/investigations/interactive/2024/native-american-deaths-burial-sites-boarding-schools/.

Piccard, Ann. Death by Boarding School: The Last Acceptable Racism and the United States’ Genocide of Native Americans. Gonzaga Law Review 49, no. 1 (2013-2014): 137-[vi]

Sebwenna-Painter, Kaitlyn, Amoneeta Beckstein, Sue Kraus, “Psychological Impacts of Historic Loss and Current Events Surrounding American Indian Boarding Schools.” American Indian and Alaska Native Mental Health Research. Vol. 30, 2023. https://coloradosph.cuanschutz.edu/docs/librariesprovider205/journal_files/vol30/30_2_2023_1_sebwenna-painter.pdf.

Smith, Andrea. “Boarding School Abuses, Human Rights, and Reparations”. Social Justice 31, no. 4 (2004): 89-102. https://login.tcnj.idm.oclc.org/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/boarding-school-abuses-human-rights-reparations/docview/231920785/se-2.

United States. Office of Indian Affairs: Annual Report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, for the Year 1891. 60th (1891). 


[1] David W. Adams, Education for Extinction: American Indians and the Boarding School Experience, 1875–1928. (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1995), 56.

[2] Pierce R. Beaver. Church, State, and the American Indians: Indian Missions in the New Nations. (Saint Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1966).

[3] Beaver, Church, State, and the American Indians, 25.

[4] Neta C. Crawford, What is War Good For? Background Ideas and Assumptions About the Legitimacy, Utility, and Costs of Offensive War, 18 (The British Journal of Politics and International Relations, 2016).

[5] Markku Henriksson, The Indian on Capitol Hill: Indian Legislation and the United States Congress, 1862-1907. (Helsinki: Finnish Historical Society, 1988), 96.

[6] Henriksson, The Indian on Capitol Hill, 21.

[7] Henriksson, The Indian on Capitol Hill, 98.

[8] United States Office of Indian Affairs, Annual report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, for the year 1891, 60th. (Washington D.C.: Office of Indian Affairs, 1891).

[9] Carol Devens, Journal of World History, “If We Get the Girls, We Get the Race: Missionary Education of Native American Girls”, 3. (Hawaii: University of Hawaii), 223.

[10] Edward E. Hill, Guide to Records in the National Archives of the United States Relating to American Indians. (Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Service, 1981), 29.

[11] Hill, Guide to Records in the National Archives of the United States Relating to American Indians, 30.

[12] Hill, Guide to Records in the National Archives of the United States Relating to American Indians, 29.

[13] David Adams, Education for Extinction: American Indians and the Boarding School Experience, 1875-1928. (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1995), 301.

[14] Hill, Guide to Records in the National Archives of the United States Relating to American Indians, 155.

[15] Tsianina K. Lomawaima, Bryan McKinley Jones Brayboy, and Teresa L. McCarty, Editors’ Introduction to the Special Issue: Native American Boarding School Stories, Journal of American Indian Education 57, no. 1. (Minnesota: University of Minnesota Press, 2018).

[16] Ann Piccard, Death by Boarding School: The Last Acceptable Racism and the United States’ Genocide of Native Americans, no. 1. (Gonzaga Law Review 49), 141.

[17] Piccard, Death by Boarding School.

[18] Beaver, Church, State, and the American Indians.

[19] James T. Carroll, Seeds of Faith: Catholic Indian Boarding Schools. (New York: Garland Publishing Inc., 2000).

[20] Carroll, Seeds of Faith, 170.

[21] Piccard, Death by Boarding School, 155.  

[22] Andrea Smith, Boarding School Abuses, Human Rights, and Reparations. (Social Justice Vol. 31, No. 4, 2004), 90.

[23] Carroll, Seeds of Faith.

[24] Carroll, Seeds of Faith, 15.

[25] Jacqueline Emery, ed., Recovering Native American Writings in the Boarding School Press. (Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press, 2020), 75.

[26] Jacqueline Emery, ed., Recovering Native American Writings in the Boarding School Press. (Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press, 2020), 75.

[27] Smith, Boarding School Abuses, Human Rights, and Reparations.

[28] Smith, Boarding School Abuses, Human Rights, and Reparations, 90.

[29] Celia Haig-Brown, Resistance and Renewal: Surviving the Indian Residential School. (Canada: Tillacum Library, 1988), 99.

[30] Smith, Boarding School Abuses, Human Rights, and Reparations.

[31] Adams, Education for Extinction.

[32] Carroll, Seeds of Faith, 170.

[33] Smith, Boarding School Abuses, Human Rights, and Reparations, 91.

[34] Devens, If We Get the Girls, We Get the Race, 223. 

[35] Smith, Boarding School Abuses, Human Rights, and Reparations, 95.

[36] Smith, Boarding School Abuses, Human Rights, and Reparations, 95.

[37] Haig-Brown, Resistance and Renewal, 5.

[38] Haig-Brown, Resistance and Renewal, 98.

[39] Haig-Brown, Resistance and Renewal, 99.

[40] Haig-Brown, Resistance and Renewal, 104.

[41] Haig-Brown, Resistance and Renewal, 123.

[42] Haig-Brown, Resistance and Renewal, 109.

[43] Haig-Brown, Resistance and Renewal, 16.

[44] Kaitlyn Sebwenna-Painter, Amoneeta Beckstein, and Sue Kraus, Psychological Impacts of Historic Loss and Current Events Surrounding American Indian Boarding Schools. (University of Colorado: Anschutz Medical Campus), 3.

[45] Sebwenna-Painter, Beckstein, and Kraus, Psychological Impacts of Historic Loss and Current Events Surrounding American Indian Boarding Schools, 3.

[46] Sebwenna-Painter, Beckstein, and Kraus, Psychological Impacts of Historic Loss and Current Events Surrounding American Indian Boarding Schools, 5.

[47]Adams, Education for Extinction, 337.

[48] Dana Hedgpeth Sari Horwitz Chikwendiu Joyce Lee, Andrew Tran, Nilo Tabrizy, Jahi, Indian Boarding School Deaths, Burial Sites Far Exceed U.S. Government Counts. (Washington Post, December 22, 2024), https://www.washingtonpost.com/investigations/interactive/2024/native-american-deaths-burial-sites-boarding-schools/.

[49] Chikwendiu, Indian Boarding School Deaths, Burial Sites Far Exceed U.S. Government Counts.

Cultivating Virtues and Reasoning about the Common Good

            Before we delve into the realm of the common good, let us begin by looking at the overall matter of the common good. To promote the common good, individual interests need to be pushed aside for the well-being of society to create a more positive community. Michael J. Sandal’s literature expresses many concepts of the common good, society, and community. In order to get a sense of the common good we “…must find a way to cultivate in citizens a concern for the whole” rather than following individualism.[1] This leads us to the matter that more and more Americans move to gated communities and begin sending their children to private and boarding schools which defeats the purpose of the common good. These gated communities where the HOA (homeowners association) fees are ridiculously high, feature brand new and private amenities such as gyms, pools, parks, playgrounds, and literal gates to prevent outsiders from coming in. Some gated communities will have two security checkpoints and even a guard to make sure only residents of the community are entering. The need for “public” housing (I use quotes because it is open to anyone) is no longer desired as it used to be.

Homeowners used to crave land, yard space, and stand-alone houses with their own home gyms and pools but the craving has gone to housing communities. The desire to be in a gated community, with all these great amenities, has increased leaving more of these communities being built and nature destroyed. As for private and boarding schools, parents feel that their children need to be seeking a greater education when public schools can offer just that. Private schools can lead to diversity disasters and create social division and inequality.

Michael Sandel wrote a book titled Justice: What’s The Right Thing to Do? about three approaches to justice. Along with Sandel, I too agree with the third approach, “…justice involves cultivating virtue and reasoning about the common good,” nevertheless justice also includes freedom of choice and independence.[2] If people want to feel an extra sense of safety by living in a gated community, it is up to the homeowner but what is stopping someone from jumping the fence? Along with homeownership, families are moving to more affluent areas with great school districts to benefit themselves and their children or paying additional costs to send their children to private and boarding schools. Again, the common good focuses on community but at what cost if people are following the idea of individualism?

Public facilities such as pools, recreation centers, parks, libraries, and more would “…draw people out of their gated communities and into the common spaces” creating the sense of community that everyone was looking for.[3] Now, “The affluent send their children to private schools (or to public schools in wealthy suburbs), leaving urban public schools to the children of families who have no alternative. A similar trend leads to the secession by the privileged from other public institutions and facilities. Private health clubs replace municipal recreation centers and swimming pools. Upscale residential communities hire private security guards and rely less on public police protection. A second or third car removes the need to rely on public transportation. And so on. The affluent secede from public places and services leaving them to those who can’t afford anything else”.[4] It is as if the working class is left with leftovers and even less. Gated communities have created a space for the affluent to have no reason to leave unless they absolutely need to because of all the provided amenities.

Taking a look at private education, it is the root of many problems. Even though these private institutions are trying to work on solutions for racial, socioeconomic, and educational diversity and inequality, many schools still face a lack of diversity. Post-secondary education and even graduate schools face the issues of diversity. In the past, diversity rarely included race and ethnicity, it was mostly “…students from California, New York, and Massachusetts; city dwellers and farm boys; violinists, painters and football players; biologists, historians and classicists; potential stockbrokers, academics, and politicians,” it never included the physical and economic attributes of people.[5] Taking racial and ethnic backgrounds into consideration, students of color and ethnic diversity can bring what Caucasians and Whites can’t, which is diversity. When students share their experiences the audience can learn from others making an educational difference. Sharing stories from their past from cultures to religion, can educate others and create a more safe and comfortable environment.

Oral history is so powerful. Stories from the past are being preserved and told in a certain tone that impacts the audience making it stronger than reading text. Having students from all backgrounds can cultivate an enriching learning environment where everyone is learning the oral history of others which can also benefit them. These oral histories can prevent the audience from making mistakes made in the past, thus creating a learning and teaching moment.

Socioeconomic status has always been a barrier for children attending private institutions at all levels, leading to a lack of awareness of the different levels and situations people are in. Schools like Lawrenceville School require a tuition of seventy thousand dollars a year and for the average American, that is a yearly salary. If those who are sending their children to these exclusive schools are not going to be exposed to the variety of socioeconomic statuses that exist, and will only be mindful of their own. Having the privilege of attending a college preparatory school is not an option for everyone creating educational disparities. Some schools are trying to create more equal opportunities but that is not the case for everyone. A school in Texas named The Tenney School released a statement from the headmaster saying “The single biggest factor impacting diversity in private schools is tuition…it is very difficult to find diverse families who can afford private tuition…private schools do attempt to attract diverse students through scholarship programs, but at the end of the day, there will be some tuition to attend a private school,” meaning some type of tuition is always going to be on the invoice which only certain, most likely White, families can pay.[6]

College preparatory schools set children up for their future with a more advanced education that is catered to each child. Comparing this to a standard public school that is built around standards for the general population, these private schools give children a huge advantage when it comes to colleges and universities because of the institutions’ status, thus setting up the privately educated child to become successful in the future. Think of this like a chain of effects. If the parents make loads of money, they will live in a privileged area leaving them with two options; option one is to send the child to a very nice public school with everything that is possibly needed or send that child to a private school with everything and more. If option two is picked, the child will receive an education that is meant specifically for them, a higher chance of getting to an Ivy or public Ivy university, and lastly, a greater chance of a successful career and high salary. This chain of events will continue to this family’s future children and a never-ending cycle of private school privilege. From personal experience, where I went to school (South Brunswick, NJ), by the time some of my classmates reached sixth grade, they attended private schools, and for ninth grade, some went to boarding schools. Why? Because their parents felt that a private school would be needed to make their children more successful because of the advantages. The inequality margin is getting larger and larger every day because of the number of children attending private schools.

As I said previously, the common good is an independent choice, but why remove the concept when some are in need? Sandel agrees with his third reasoning for justice, “cultivating virtue and reasoning about the common good,” but the United States no longer fosters the same opinion.[7] Many in the US are fostering a more greedy mentality through actions like living in a gated community or sending their children to private schools. There is no longer a need for public facilities, but they can enhance the sense of community and create a place of belonging for children. Those who do not have access to private facilities could be going to public ones but that isn’t an option because the common good wasn’t kept up with and a fee is included with everything. An example of this would be the local dog park. In order to access, a high fee must be paid, but if you are not a resident of the town, you must pay an even higher one. Why have a park if you have to pay for it? The answer is easy. Greed. Towns need money and the only way to make it is through fees and payments. America needs to adopt a mentality that makes us think about others, not just ourselves. The only way we can better society is through working together but that is not possible if people are only looking out for themselves and how they can make it more luxurious.

Encouraging people to attend public schools and buy stand-alone housing not in gated communities is a start to increasing the sense of community and common good, but again, it is a choice and people have the freedom to do as they please. Taking that away from families is simply wrong, however, they should be aware of their actions and the consequences. Making the private school sector more available to all classes and providing information about the community can make everyone more aware. In gated communities, removing the facilities can increase families leaving and going to public ones, leading to fostering friendships and relationships with others. Asking the American people to do this after gated communities and private institutions are embedded in our society is a lot but the difference that can be made is even greater. I agree with Sandel and the concept of the common good, but asking the American people to believe in this when everyone has different values will be difficult, maybe even impossible.

            Social Studies is such a broad subject where students learn about the various cultures, races, ethnicities, and so on. It is one of the only core subjects taught in schools where students can take the time and learn from each other. They can tell personal stories, explain their cultures and traditions, and most importantly, listen to each other. My paper above is about the common good, one of the goods being public education. Private institutions take away the learning opportunities that public schools have to offer. At these institutions, there is one kind of group of kids: those of a higher socioeconomic status. With that being said, many of these kids are White. There is no opportunity to learn about various backgrounds and ethnicities. With my experience in public schools, I learned so much about different cultures and people. It really influenced me to think deeper about what other hardships people face in their lives. While I don’t have first-hand experienced life in a private school, I can speak on behalf of the many people I know who attend private institutions for their K-12 education. It is so simple, it’s not diverse.

            In order for students to be knowledgeable about the problems in this world, it is crucial they take the time to understand and learn from others. One student does not have the same life as another. Although they will never truly know what others have experienced, discussion is a great place to start. In high school, I took a sociology class that changed my perspective on life in general. We would discuss our backgrounds, cultural traditions, and  our family and family life. This class allowed me to learn what true diversity is, in turn, making me want to expose my future students to each other. Not enough credit goes out to students. They are not only listeners but they are teachers. They teach what teachers can’t, cultures and traditions. We can only talk about what we know but it is more personal when it comes from a true place and narrator. There is nothing more valuable than students sharing their experiences with their classmates, it builds a community.


[1] Michael J Sandel, Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do? (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2009).

[2] Michael J Sandel, Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do? (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2009).

[3] Michael J Sandel, Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do? (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2009).

[4] Michael J Sandel, Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do? (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2009).

[5]  Michael J Sandel, Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do? (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2009).

[6] Is there a lack of diversity in private schools?, accessed May 13, 2024, https://www.usnews.com/education/k12/articles/is-there-a-lack-of-diversity-in-private-schools.

[7]   Michael J Sandel, Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do? (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2009).

Reimagining AI in Social Studies: Four Educator Archetypes and the Path Forward

Michael Fullan’s 2011 paper Choosing the Wrong Drivers for Whole System Reform offered a powerful caution that still rings true today. Schools often rush to adopt new technology without the deeper instructional shifts needed to make it meaningful. Early in my teaching career, I saw this firsthand with the rollout of interactive whiteboards. The promise was exciting and the investment was significant, but the implementation fell short. Without the right training, support, and connection to instructional goals, many of those boards became little more than digital display tools.  They were not used the way they were intended, and the opportunity to transform teaching practice was largely missed.

We are at another crossroads. Just as interactive whiteboards once promised transformation but too often delivered status quo, AI now arrives with the potential to reshape how students think, write, and engage with civic life. Fullan reminds us that real, lasting change does not come from devices or tools alone. It comes from building instructional capacity, strengthening relationships, and creating coherent systems. In the age of AI, his warning is more relevant than ever. If we adopt these tools without clear purpose or thoughtful pedagogy, we risk repeating old mistakes with even more powerful technology.

In 2025, two major federal initiatives signaled a nationwide commitment to integrating generative artificial intelligence into education and educator development. In April, the White House issued Executive Order 14277, Advancing Artificial Intelligence Education for American Youth, which focused on expanding educator capacity and increasing student access to AI tools (Federal Register, 2025). Just months later, it released Winning the Race: America’s AI Action Plan, a strategy outlining more than 90 actions focused on expanding AI education, supporting teacher training, and ensuring equitable integration across learning environments (White House, 2025). While neither document names social studies directly, their emphasis on “fostering a culture of innovation and critical thinking” (Federal Register, 2025) has clear implications for K–12 social studies classrooms. Guidance from organizations such as the National Council for the Social Studies (NCSS), the International Society for Technology in Education (ISTE), and Common Sense Media reinforces the need for educators to critically evaluate tools, protect student data, and promote responsible use of generative AI. However, national ambitions alone won’t shape daily classroom practice – teachers will. And to do that effectively, we must start by understanding where each educator is on the journey. Some are skeptical of AI’s role in civic learning. Others are experimenting with basic tools. A few are already transforming their practice in bold, creative ways.

This article introduces a four-archetype framework: Skeptic, Novice, Designer, and Trailblazer, to capture the diverse ways social studies educators are engaging with AI, each reflecting a distinct mindset and stage of instructional readiness. Each archetype is grounded in practical, student-facing classroom examples designed to support critical thinking, historical inquiry, and civic reasoning in an AI-powered world.

“I want students to wrestle with complexity—not rely on shortcuts. AI worries me because it might undercut the deep analysis and civic responsibility we’re trying to teach.”

Skeptics approach AI with deep caution, grounded in a firm belief that students should be thinkers, not just content consumers. They worry that AI tools may undercut historical reasoning, obscure authorship, or dilute opportunities for authentic civic learning. For these educators, AI is not neutral. They raise valid questions about equity, surveillance, and how easily confident-sounding misinformation can circulate unchecked. Their hesitation is often grounded in research on how students misinterpret digital content and confuse fluency with accuracy, a concern amplified in recent studies on AI-generated misinformation (Wineburg & Ziv, 2024). Yet even skeptical educators recognize the importance of engaging with these tools critically, so students are not left unprepared.

These activities emphasize critique, caution, and civic responsibility, helping students question AI rather than accept it at face value:

  • Facilitate an activity where students fact-check AI-generated historical claims using vetted primary sources.
  • Guide students to verify an AI-generated historical claim using lateral reading—opening new tabs to cross-check with trusted sources—and reflect on how polished responses can still be misleading (Wineburg & Ziv, 2024).
  • Have students use AI to generate a fake historical image or event description, then analyze it using Common Sense Media’s AI literacy principles to identify signs of manipulation and discuss real-world implications (Common Sense Media, 2025).
  • Use ChatGPT’s Study Mode to help students unpack a dense primary source, then lead a discussion critiquing how the AI framed key ideas and what it overlooked (Sawchuk, 2025).

“I’ve tested a few AI tools, but I’m still figuring out how to connect them to real learning, especially sourcing, analysis, and classroom discussion.”

Novices are intrigued by AI and willing to try it, but they’re still figuring out where it fits. Their experimentation often centers around one-off tasks, like generating an image for a warm-up or asking ChatGPT to summarize a reading. While eager to explore, they haven’t yet connected AI use to core social studies practices like sourcing, historical inquiry, or civic discourse. According to Hernholm (2025), even teachers who express curiosity about AI still need structured support, especially when it comes to tools, time, and training. As AI for Education (2024) notes, starting with small activities, like brainstorming prompts or using generative tools for warm-ups, helps build confidence without overwhelming teachers new to AI. These early successes lay the foundation for deeper exploration and help novices envision how AI might eventually align with their instructional goals. Structured tools like MagicSchool AI, Claude, Adobe Express, and NotebookLM give these teachers a way to test ideas in real classrooms while building the capacity to move from occasional use to intentional design. When AI is framed as a way to enhance, not replace, core learning goals, novices begin to shift from curiosity to confidence.

These entry points offer low-risk ways to explore AI tools while building confidence and connection to core social studies practices:

  • Use AI tools like NotebookLM to reorganize historical sources into thematic clusters, then have students analyze how the AI grouped them and evaluate the accuracy and bias of those groupings (Wasik, 2025).
  • Prompt students to use Claude.ai or ChatGPT to generate differing perspectives on a historical event, then evaluate them for bias and omissions.
  • Facilitate a role-play simulation using Character.AI, where students question historical figures and fact-check the responses.
  • Use Adobe Express to co-create civic posters or infographics with AI-generated draft text, then revise for accuracy and tone.

With the right support, tools, time, and professional learning – these educators begin moving from curiosity to confidence.

“AI gives us new ways to simulate civic life, reimagine debate, and engage students in building—and challenging—systems of power and justice.”

Designers integrate AI with purpose. They go beyond surface-level use to embed it into thoughtful lessons that support historical reasoning, civic writing, and student discourse. These educators treat AI as a tool to elevate, not replace, student learning. They maintain instructional control, designing experiences where students use AI to revise, question, and deepen understanding. They are clear about their instructional goals and use AI as a tool to help students engage more deeply with content. Designers are neither dismissive nor blindly enthusiastic. They see the promise of AI, but they also understand its limits.

Recent research supports this balanced mindset. Clark and van Kessel (2024) found that AI-generated lesson materials often reflect embedded assumptions or miss opportunities for meaningful inquiry. They encourage educators to treat AI as a collaborator that needs to be questioned and shaped, not a neutral source. Similarly, Klein (2025) reported that many AI-generated civics lessons lack depth and fail to promote the kind of student thinking social studies demands. Designers are aware of these limitations. That’s why they stay close to their pedagogical aims and use AI as a tool for design, not a substitute for it.

In the classroom, Designers guide students to use AI purposefully: drafting historical arguments, analyzing civic texts, or refining written responses. They help students question AI outputs and compare them to disciplinary thinking models. They use AI to scaffold participation for multilingual learners or struggling writers, while still expecting students to revise, debate, and cite. In short, Designers make AI useful by keeping it anchored in student learning.

These practices use AI intentionally to deepen historical reasoning, support civic discourse, and elevate student writing:

  • Use NotebookLM to create a video overview from source documents, then have students critique its accuracy and revise it to reflect stronger historical thinking (TechCrunch, 2025).
  • Use AI to model civic writing, like letters to elected officials or op-eds, followed by analysis of argument strength and tone.
  • Support multilingual learners by using AI to generate sentence starters, vocabulary scaffolds, or translated prompts (Szeto, 2024a).
  • Ask students to use AI to generate multiple historical perspectives on an event, then evaluate how each aligns with available primary sources and disciplinary thinking (Szeto, 2024b).

 ”AI lets us simulate debates, test civic arguments, and rethink how students engage with the past and present.”

Trailblazers are reimagining what’s possible with AI. They don’t just use tools, they create new experiences where students build, critique, and explore ideas at the intersection of technology and civic life. Their classrooms are laboratories for inquiry, civic action, and reflection. Trailblazers lead boldly but with intention, staying grounded in social studies goals like justice, democracy, and historical thinking.

These educators often lead professional learning, collaborate across content areas, and pilot new strategies. They guide students in building with AI, critiquing its limitations, and using it to examine democracy, memory, and power. They are not reckless with innovation; they’re intentional, equity-focused, and transparent about what AI can and cannot do.

Trailblazers also recognize that students must learn how to ask hard questions of systems, not just generate answers. Projects in their classrooms often blend social studies content with algorithmic thinking, civic action, and ethical reflection. While some of their work pushes the boundaries of what’s typical in a classroom, it remains rooted in the goals of social studies education: inquiry, citizenship, and justice.

These projects invite students to co-create with AI, interrogate systems, and use emerging tools for civic innovation and justice:

  • Lead an AI-powered civic simulation where bots draft policy proposals and students must revise or defend them using constitutional principles
  • Guide students to train their own lightweight LLMs on curated primary sources and analyze how outputs differ from general models
  • Have students investigate algorithmic bias or digital redlining using AI-generated maps or predictive tools and connect their findings to environmental justice or civil rights issues.
  • Have students use AI and local datasets, such as NYC Open Data, to take informed action by proposing policy solutions to real community issues, aligned to social studies standards.

Supporting all educators on the AI journey: A path forward

While archetypes offer a useful lens, sustainable integration of AI in social studies requires system-level support that recognizes where educators are and helps them move forward with clarity and confidence. Below are five key actions for leaders, curriculum teams, and policymakers to consider:

  1. Leverage Professional Learning Communities (PLCs)
    Some of the most powerful shifts in practice emerge through sustained, peer-driven collaboration. Districts and schools can embed AI integration into existing PLC structures by identifying and supporting Designers and Trailblazers as lead learners who model and share instructional strategies. Within these communities, Novices can build confidence through co-planning and reflection, while Skeptics are invited to engage in inquiry without pressure. PLCs foster collective efficacy, promote shared responsibility for innovation, and ensure that professional learning remains rooted in classroom practice.
  2. Provide tools, time, and trust
    Teachers won’t use what they don’t understand or don’t have time to explore. Access to quality AI tools, along with dedicated time to explore them meaningfully, is essential. As Hernholm (2025) reminds us, capacity grows when schools invest not just in technology, but in the people using it.
  3. Focus on student thinking, not just use
    Rather than measuring AI adoption in terms of tool usage, districts should evaluate how it supports disciplinary thinking, civic engagement, and student growth. AI that helps students revise a DBQ, analyze bias, or debate constitutional issues is more impactful than AI used to generate generic content. The goal isn’t AI integration; it’s better thinking.

Across all four archetypes, whether skeptical, curious, intentional, or trailblazing, one truth holds: AI is only as powerful as the pedagogy behind it. As Michael Fullan (2011) warned more than a decade ago, technology alone doesn’t drive meaningful change. Real impact comes from purposeful design, skilled teaching, and systems that support both.

Used thoughtfully, AI can scaffold reasoning, simplify complex texts, and provide fast, iterative feedback. It can lower the barrier to entry for drafting and help students engage with challenging sources they might otherwise avoid. For multilingual learners and struggling writers, it can act as a helpful drafting partner, not a shortcut, but a springboard.

But the risks are real. Without intentional framing, students may bypass the intellectual heavy lifting that defines social studies. AI can hallucinate facts, misrepresent sources, or mask bias in confident tones. As Dan Meyer (2024) reminds us, AI can do the heavy lifting of generating and organizing, but “we have to help teachers go the last mile.” That last mile is where historical thinking, civic reasoning, and disciplinary literacy live. It’s where students learn to evaluate claims, wrestle with complexity, and build arguments from evidence.

Each archetype contributes to that journey. Skeptics ground us in ethical questions. Novices push us to offer practical supports. Designers model how to integrate tools with intention. Trailblazers show what’s possible when innovation meets purpose.

AI can support great teaching, but it cannot replace it.  We are not preparing students to use AI for trivia. We are preparing them to ask hard questions of systems, sources, and society.

That is the heart of social studies.

AI for Education. (2024, March 12). Getting started with AI: A guide for educators. https://www.aiforeducation.io/blog/getting-started-with-ai

Clark, C. H., & van Kessel, C. (2024). “I, for one, welcome our new computer overlords”: Using artificial intelligence as a lesson planning resource for social studies. Contemporary Issues in Technology and Teacher Education, 24(2). https://citejournal.org/volume-24/issue-2-24/social-studies/i-for-one-welcome-our-new-computer-overlords-using-artificial-intelligence-as-a-lesson-planning-resource-for-social-studies/

Common Sense Media. (2025, June 26). Deepfakes can be a crime: Teaching AI literacy can prevent it. Retrieved August 3, 2025, from https://www.commonsensemedia.org/kids-action/articles/deepfakes-can-be-a-crime-teaching-ai-literacy-can-prevent-it

Fullan, M. (2011). Choosing the wrong drivers for whole system reform. Centre for Strategic Education. https://theeta.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/eta-articles-110711.pdf

Guskey, T. R. (2014). Planning professional learning. Educational Leadership, 71(8), 10–16. Retrieved August 3, 2025, from https://tguskey.com/wp-content/uploads/Professional-Learning-2-Planning-Professional-Learning.pdf

Hernholm, S. (2025, June 19). AI in education: Why teachers need tools, time, and training. Forbes. https://www.forbes.com/sites/sarahhernholm/2025/06/19/ai-in-education-why-teachers-need-tools-time-and-training/

Klein, A. (2025, June 30). Why AI may not be ready to write your lesson plans. Education Week. https://www.edweek.org/technology/why-ai-may-not-be-ready-to-write-your-lesson-plans/2025/06

Meyer, D. (2024, May 3). The difference between great AI and great teaching [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iH4Pn4bpOfQ

Sawchuk, S. (2025, July). What teachers should know about ChatGPT’s new Study Mode feature. Education Week. https://www.edweek.org/technology/what-teachers-should-know-about-chatgpts-new-study-mode-feature/2025/07

Szeto, A. (2024a). AI and social studies: Supporting multilingual learners with generative tools. Teaching Social Studies. https://teachingsocialstudies.org/tag/english/

Szeto, A. (2024b). Enhancing Student Learning with AI-Powered Image Features Teaching Social Studies. https://teachingsocialstudies.org/tag/historical-perspectives/

TechCrunch. (2025, July 29). Google’s NotebookLM rolls out video overviews. https://techcrunch.com/2025/07/29/googles-notebooklm-rolls-out-video-overviews/

The White House. (2025, April 23). Executive Order 14277 of April 23, 2025: Advancing artificial intelligence education for American youth. Federal Register, 90, 17519–17523. https://www.govinfo.gov/content/pkg/FR-2025-04-28/pdf/2025-07368.pdf

The White House. (2025, July 23). Winning the race: America’s AI action plan [PDF]. Office of the President of the United States. https://www.whitehouse.gov/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/Americas-AI-Action-Plan.pdf

Wasik, B. (2025, June 16). A.I. is poised to rewrite history. Literally. The New York Times Magazine. https://www.nytimes.com/2025/06/16/magazine/ai-history-historians-scholarship.html

Wineburg, S., & Ziv, N. (2024, October 25). What makes students (and the rest of us) fall for AI misinformation? Education Week. https://www.edweek.org/technology/opinion-what-makes-students-and-the-rest-of-us-fall-for-ai-misinformation/2024/10

Can you Pass the Oklahoma Anti-Woke Test?

https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2025/12/31/2360791/-CAN-YOU-PASS-THE-OKLAHOMA-ANTI-WOKE-TEACHER-S-TEST

In August 2025, worried that WOKE educators from higher paying unionized states might move to Oklahoma to take jobs as teachers, Oklahoma implemented an “America-First Assessment” for new teachers. The assessment, created by the PragerU, a conservative group that is definitely not a university, was dropped three months later by a new state education superintendent.

As a WOKE teacher educator from a WOKE state with almost fifty years of teaching experience and indoctrination, I was interested to see if I could pass the “America-First Assessment” and qualify to teach in Oklahoma. But not to worry, it is much easier than the test immigrants take to become United States citizens, the New York State Teacher Certification Exam, and the United States History Regents Exam for 11th grade students in New York State.

A reporter for the Oklahoma Voice took the online test and intentionally picked the most ridiculous choices. It turns out that when you got a wrong answer, the test allowed you to try again and again until you picked the choice they wanted so it was impossible to fail. It makes you wonder about the poor quality of teaching and learning in the Sooner State.

The test has a number of questions about defining sex but no questions about Oklahoma history. Teachers don’t have to know about the Trail of Tears forcing East Coast Native American tribes onto Oklahoma Territory reservations or race riots that destroyed the Tulsa African American community.

Don’t be nervous. I highlighted the answers Oklahoma wants you to pick to prove you aren’t WOKE.

1. According to the Supreme Court cases Meyer v. Nebraska (1923) and Pierce v. Society of Sisters (1925), who has the ultimate right to direct a child’s education?
a. The Superintendent of Schools
b. The parents
c. The Board of Education
d. The federal Department of Education

2. What is the fundamental biological distinction between males and females?
a. Height and weight
b. Blood type
c. Personal preference
d. Chromosomes and reproductive anatomy

3. How is a child’s biological sex typically identified?
a. Parental affirmation of child’s preference
b. Personal feelings
c. Visual anatomical observation and chromosomes
d. Online registration

4. Which chromosome pair determines biological sex in humans?
a. AA/BB
b. XX/XY
c. RH/AB
d. XE/XQ

5. Why is the distinction between male and female considered important in areas like sports and privacy?
a. For equity in minority communities
b. To preserve fairness, safety and integrity for both sexes
c. To increase participation in sports
d. To enhance the self-esteem of transgender children

6. Should teachers be allowed to express their own political viewpoints in the classroom In order to persuade the students to adopt their point of view?
a. Yes, teachers have freedom of speech, too, which does not stop at the classroom door
b. No, once you become a teacher, your freedom of speech in and out of the classroom is restricted
c. Yes, sometimes – when the issue includes civil rights or social justice
d. No, the classroom is not an appropriate venue for political activism

7. What did the Supreme Court rule in the 2025 case of Mahmoud v. Taylor?
a. Gender-affirming medical procedures are allowed in America
b. Students must recite the Pledge of Allegiance in schools
c. Religious schools must hire non-religious staff
d. Public schools cannot require participation in LGBTQ-themed instruction without a parental opt-out

8. What are the first three words of the U.S. Constitution?
a. In God We Trust
b. We the People
c. Life, Liberty, Happiness
d. The United States

9. Why is freedom of religion important to America’s identity?
a. It protects religious choice from government control
b. It makes Christianity the national religion
c. It bans all forms of public worship
d. It limits religious teaching in the public square

10. What are the two parts of the U.S. Congress?
a. The House of Lords and The House of Commons
b. The judiciary and the Senate
c. The Executive and the Legislative
d. The Senate and the House of Representatives

11. How many total U.S. senators are there?
a. 435
b. 535
c. 100
d. 50

12. Why do some states have more representatives than others?
a. Representation is allocated by population
b. They cover a larger geographic area
c. They have held statehood for a longer period
d. The number is determined by Congress

13. What is the primary responsibility of the president’s Cabinet?
a. Approve Supreme Court justices
b. Pass legislation
c. Sign executive orders
d. Advise the president

14. Who signs bills into law?
a. The vice president
b. The chief justice
c. The president
d. The speaker of the house

15. What is the highest court in the United States?
a. The Federal Court
b. The Court of Appeals
c. The District Court
d. The Supreme Court

16. In the United States, which of the following is a responsibility reserved only for citizens?
a. Serve on a jury
b. Own a home
c. Pay taxes
d. Possess a driver’s license

17. Which of the following are explicitly listed in the Bill of Rights?
a. Freedom of speech and religion
b. Voting and public education
c. Reproductive rights and healthcare
d. Freedom from data collection and surveillance

18. Which right does the Second Amendment protect?
a. The right to hunt and fish
b. The right to arm the military
c. The right to restrict certain kinds of speech
d. The right to keep and bear arms

19. What is the supreme law of the United States?
a. Presidential Executive Orders
b. Laws passed by Congress and signed by the president
c. Laws passed by state legislatures and signed by state governors
d. The Constitution

20. Who wrote the first draft of the Declaration of Independence?
a. John Adams
b. Thomas Jefferson
c. John Hancock
d. Thomas Paine

21. When was the Declaration of Independence adopted?
a. July 4, 1778
b. July 4, 1787
c. July 4, 1776
d. July 4, 1619

22. What was the primary reason the colonists fought the British?
a. To resist expansion of the British Empire
b. To maintain slavery
c. To resist taxation without representation
d. To resist forced military service

23. Who were the first three U.S. presidents?
a. George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Alexander Hamilton
b. George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson
c. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison
d. George Washington, John Adams, Abraham Lincoln

24. Who is called the “Father of Our Country”?
a. Benjamin Franklin
b. Abraham Lincoln
c. Martin Luther King Jr.
d. George Washington

25. What did the Emancipation Proclamation do?
a. Ended Prohibition
b. Freed Confederate generals
c. Freed the slaves in the North
d. Ended slavery in the rebelling Confederate states

26. What was Abraham Lincoln’s primary reason for waging the Civil War?
a. To preserve states’ rights
b. To abolish slavery
c. To preserve the Union
d. To end the Union

27. What cause is Martin Luther King Jr. best known for?
a. Advocating for segregation
b. Advocating for the abolition of slavery
c. Advocating for diversity, equity and inclusion
d. Advocating for racial equality under the law

28. How did the Cold War end?
a. The U.S. prevailed in the Cuban Missile Crisis
b. Russia invaded and occupied Ukraine
c. The Soviet Union Collapsed
d. The U.S., the European Union, and the Soviet Union signed a peace treaty

29. Who was president during the Great Depression and WWII?
a. Woodrow Wilson
b. Harry S. Truman
c. Franklin D. Roosevelt
d. Theodore Roosevelt

30. What is the name of the national anthem?
a. “The Star-Spangled Banner”
b. “America the Beautiful”
c. “This Land is Your Land”
d. “God Bless America”

31. Why are there thirteen stripes on the American flag?
a. One for each signer of the Declaration of Independence
b. To honor the Thirteenth Amendment
c. To commemorate America’s fallen soldiers
d. To symbolize the original colonies

32. Which national holiday honors those who died while serving in the U.S. military?
a. Armistice Day
b. Memorial Day
c. Veterans Day
d. Flag Day

33. Which of the following is a phrase from the Pledge of Allegiance?
a. Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness
b. Of, by and for the people
c. One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all
d. One nation, under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for all

34. From what does the United States government derive its power?
a. The Supreme Court
b. The people
c. The president

Enhancing Social Studies Instruction through Disciplinary Literacy Practices Aligned to the Science of Reading

The New York State Portrait of a Graduate, finalized in July 2025, emphasizes preparing students who are academically skilled, literate across disciplines, and capable of critical thinking, independent learning, and effective communication (New York State Education Department, 2025). Central to this vision is culturally responsive-sustaining (CR-S) education, which ensures that students build respectful relationships, value diverse perspectives, and engage meaningfully in inclusive learning communities. Graduates who demonstrate both cultural responsiveness and academic readiness are well-positioned to thrive in a diverse and rapidly changing world.

These planned types of creative engagement open the door to new ideas in students. It also empowers students to take intellectual risks that challenge assumptions and spark curiosity. These behaviors form the basis for sustained and meaningful critical inquiry.  Critical inquiry then enables them to analyze information, evaluate evidence, and understand complex issues from multiple angles. In addition, building strong communication skills support students in articulating their thinking with clarity, and intentional lessons designed to build students self-reflection nurtures metacognition.  These are essential to helping them recognize strengths and identify areas for growth. When coupled with a developing sense of global awareness, these competencies equip students to become “lifelong learners” and contribute meaningfully to an interconnected world.

To realize this vision, literacy instruction must extend beyond English Language Arts (ELA) to encompass all content areas, including social studies. The NYS Science of Reading (SoR) literacy initiative, woven into the finalized NYS Portrait of a Graduate, offers research-based strategies for building foundational skills such as decoding, fluency, vocabulary, and comprehension (Lesaux & Carr, 2023). SoR is not a single curriculum or program. Instead, it reflects decades of interdisciplinary research on how children acquire reading and writing skills and provides guidelines for effective instruction. In this context, SoR represents the “how” of literacy development, while the Portrait of a Graduate articulates the “why.” Instruction should empower students to transfer literacy skills across disciplines and engage critically with academic content.

Social studies provides an especially strong context for building disciplinary literacy through engagement with academic texts and primary sources. Unlike fictional narratives, which often feature familiar vocabulary and predictable plots, these texts pose unique challenges. They introduce abstract concepts beyond students’ everyday experiences and typically employ complex sentence structures and specialized organizational patterns. Additionally, they integrate both academic and discipline-specific vocabulary (Cervetti & Hiebert, 2011; Shanahan, 2021; Lesaux, 2020; McKeown et al., 2021). As students move from reading narrative fiction to academic and historical texts, they must navigate dense information, interpret primary and secondary sources, analyze cause-and-effect relationships, track chronological sequences, and consider multiple perspectives (Lee, 2022; Fisher & Frey, 2021).

Writing in social studies reflects a similar shift. Students are asked to construct coherent explanations, synthesize information across sources, and present reasoned arguments that reflect historical thinking (Fisher & Frey, 2021; Moje et al., 2022).  Disciplinary literacy instruction supports students in meeting the academic demands of each discipline. By explicitly teaching subject specific vocabulary, sentence structures, discourse conventions, and organizational strategies, teachers help students build the knowledge and skills necessary for deep understanding and clear communication (Lesaux, Kieffer, & Kelley, 2021; McKeown et al., 2021). By embedding such instruction, teachers create classrooms in which students move beyond memorizing facts to reasoning and producing knowledge in ways that mirror historians and social scientists (Shanahan, 2021; Moje et al., 2022).

At its core, disciplinary literacy involves developing the specialized ways of reading, writing, and reasoning that characterize experts in each academic field.  Each content area demands specific cognitive skills, including attention, working memory, and reasoning strategies. Students also need to master the linguistic features unique to the discipline, such as specialized vocabulary, complex syntax, and distinctive discourse structures, to engage successfully with academic content (Shanahan & Shanahan, 2020; Moje et al., 2020; Lesaux et al., 2021). Focusing on disciplinary literacy helps students move beyond relying solely on personal experience or background knowledge. It enables students to engage meaningfully with historical work. Through this process they analyze primary and secondary sources, evaluate evidence, consider multiple perspectives, and construct arguments grounded in evidence (Wineburg, 2001; Lee, 2022; Moje et al., 2022).

Providing explicit instruction in how historians read, write, and reason gives students the strategies they need to create meaning from complex texts and make historically grounded inferences.  The principles of disciplinary literacy align closely with the Science of Reading, as both highlight vocabulary, syntax, and comprehension as foundations for deep understanding.  (Castles et al., 2018; Seidenberg, 2017; McKeown et al., 2021). By integrating these approaches, teachers help students develop strong word-level decoding, higher-order comprehension and the reasoning skills necessary to think, read, and write like experts in history and the social sciences.

In social studies, disciplinary literacy requires students to develop several core language skills. These include mastering both academic and subject-specific vocabulary.  Academic vocabulary encompasses words that appear across multiple subjects. This allows students to engage in higher-order thinking and cross-disciplinary reasoning (August & Shanahan, 2022; Lesaux et al., 2021). Content-specific vocabulary, in contrast, is unique to social studies and supports students in analyzing and interpreting historical texts.

Disciplinary literacy expands to include instruction in language functions within an academic discipline.  Language function refers to how students use language to think, reason, and interact with content. These skills are integrated into learning objectives and reflected in classroom activities. By applying these skills consistently, students deepen their understanding and mirror the work of historians—comparing events, analyzing causes and effects, interpreting sources, and synthesizing information across texts (Wineburg, McGrew, Breakstone, & Ortega, 2020; Lee, 2022).

Syntax is another critical component of disciplinary literacy. Historical and academic writing often features complex sentences with multiple clauses, embedded phrases, and relational markers such as because, although, and therefore.  These are used in writing to signal logical relationships like cause and effect, contrast, or comparison. Understanding syntax allows students to follow intricate reasoning, interpret nuanced arguments, and construct their own ideas with clarity (Shanahan & Shanahan, 2021; McKeown et al., 2021).

Discourse is the final part of disciplinary literacy.  Discourse refers to the larger structures of communication that guide how knowledge is shared. In social studies, discourse encompasses how historians organize evidence, sequence ideas, and construct arguments. Recognizing these patterns enables students to produce organized, purposeful writing and strengthen their ability to reason critically and communicate effectively (Fisher, Frey, & Hattie, 2023; Moje et al., 2022).

By explicitly teaching both academic and content vocabulary, language function, syntax, and discourse, educators create learning environments where students move beyond superficial understanding and engage in authentic historical inquiry. These skills not only support disciplinary thinking within social studies classes, but also foster transferable literacy skills across other subjects and multiple grade levels (Moje et al., 2020; McKeown et al., 2021).

Strengthening Vocabulary Instruction

Vocabulary instruction in social studies must address the layered nature of the words students encounter.  According to the Science of Reading framework, vocabulary can be grouped into three tiers. Everyday conversational terms form the first tier, while the second includes academic words that recur across disciplines.  Research by Averil Coxhead (2000) provides a widely used Academic Word List, which can be used to map high-frequency academic words across subjects and grade levels. The list is available online through Victoria University of Wellington (Victoria University of Wellington, n.d.) at https://www.wgtn.ac.nz/lals/resources/academicwordlist. Examples of Tier 2 words include analyze, influence, and structure.  Effective instruction in academic vocabulary requires more than providing definitions.  Students need opportunities to explore how these words function within texts and discussions.  Planned alignment and instruction in academic vocabulary helps students notice subtle differences in meaning and recognize common word pairings.  These strategies support students in applying academic language confidently in reading, discussion, and writing tasks across different contexts. (August & Shanahan, 2022; Lesaux et al., 2021).

Tier 3 words are discipline-specific and central to historical reasoning.  These include terms like reform, diplomacy, and industrialization. These are most effectively learned through carefully chosen primary sources, historical narratives, contemporary accounts and other authentic text. Exploring these words in context helps students develop a precise understanding of their meaning and significance. Seeing how words function in authentic reading, discussion, and writing tasks helps students to deepen their comprehension and learn to use language accurately and confidently (McKeown et al., 2021; Moje et al., 2022).

Teachers can scaffold discipline-specific vocabulary using a variety of strategies aligned with the Science of Reading.  Frayer Models, word maps, and charts that incorporate synonyms, antonyms, text-based examples, and opportunities for students to create original sentences are all effective tools.  Sentence frames provide students with language support that guides the use of both academic and content vocabulary. For example, “I can analyze ___ by ___” or “This structure helps ___ because ___” give students a clear structure for expressing their ideas. Teachers can also leverage morphology and word families to help students predict the meanings of new words. For instance, influence can become influential or influencer, and structure can become structural or restructure. Understanding the suffix -ism, which denotes a system, ideology, or practice allows students to analyze and apply terms such as feudalism, mercantilism, capitalism, communism, and socialism.

Visual supports, such as anchor charts, offer reference points for key terms across lessons. Vocabulary journals encourage learners to record new words, include text examples, write original sentences, and reflect on how each word connects to the topic. These personalized exercises reinforce both literacy growth and historical reasoning (Fisher, Frey, & Hattie, 2021).

The New York State K–12 Social Studies Framework (NYSSED, 2023) outlines a range of academic functions that students should develop to think, communicate, and reason like historians and social scientists. These functions are embedded in the framework’s disciplinary practices and include gathering and using evidence, analyzing and interpreting information, reasoning and argumentation, communication and expression, and problem solving or decision making. Within these practices, students learn to formulate questions, design inquiries, and evaluate sources as part of historical investigations (New York State Education Department, 2023; https://www.nysed.gov/curriculum-instruction/social-studies). These functions are central to disciplinary thinking and must be aligned from instruction through assessment. Doing so connects comprehension to expression and deepens understanding (Wineburg, Martin, & Monte-Sano, 2020; Langer & Applebee, 2020).

Teachers can support language function through a variety of strategies informed by the Science of Reading. Graphic organizers help students compare perspectives or categorize causes and effects. Timelines clarify chronological relationships. Structured prompts encourage evidence-based argumentation. For example, in a unit on the Civil Rights Movement, students might hypothesize causes, examine primary sources, and revise interpretations based on evidence. These tasks mirror historians’ methods and promote critical thinking over memorization (Singer, 2021).

Additional Science of Reading strategies include analyzing contemporary political speeches to identify rhetorical techniques and historical parallels. Peer debates provide opportunities for learners to justify their positions using evidence. Historical simulations, such as mock congressional hearings or town hall meetings, immerse students in applying analytical and inferential skills in authentic contexts. Connecting history instruction to current social issues further enhances relevance and fosters civic engagement (Singer, 2019).

Targeted prompts make language functions explicit. Examples include:

“Compare the motivations of these two historical figures using evidence from primary sources.”

“Sequence these events and explain how one led to another.”

“Based on this speech, what inferences can you make about public opinion at the time?”

“Evaluate the credibility of these sources and justify your reasoning.”

By integrating these strategies, students will move beyond surface-level recall and engage deeply in evidence-based reasoning. They learn to interrogate sources, construct coherent arguments, and articulate well-supported claims. Developing these skills is critical for cultivating historical literacy and preparing students to participate as informed, active citizens (Reisman, 2020; Singer 2021).

Syntax instruction plays a vital role in helping students navigate complex texts and articulate sophisticated ideas. When students understand how different sentence structures function, they become more confident readers and writers. Subordinate clauses, cause and effect constructions, and embedded modifiers each offer ways to convey nuance and complexity. As students learn to recognize and use these structures, they strengthen both comprehension and written expression. These skills also enable them to read more analytically and construct clearer arguments (Shanahan & Shanahan, 2019).

Consider the sentence: “Although governments have pledged to reduce emissions, many countries continue to rely on fossil fuels, which has delayed progress on climate goals.”

Subordinate clauses and modifiers help students make sense of contrasts, causal relationships, and the sequence of events. These skills are fundamental to the ways students engage in historical and civic thinking. In the classroom, teachers can build this understanding through brief focused mini-lessons. These lessons might guide students through the role of dependent clauses, transitions, and modifiers as they appear in authentic texts. By slowing down and examining these structures together, teachers help students see how syntax shapes meaning in ways that support deeper reading and writing.

Close reading and annotation provide valuable opportunities for students to analyze how authors construct meaning through syntax.  As students mark up a text, they begin to notice how authors signal causality, highlight contradictions, and add meaningful layers of detail. These insights help students read more intentionally and understand how structure supports meaning.

When teachers model these strategies in their own writing, students gain a clear example of how syntax works in practice. They can observe how deliberate sentence structures clarify ideas and reinforce arguments. Seeing these techniques in action helps students apply them in their own writing with greater confidence and skill.

Modeling logical connections in writing reinforces syntax. For example: “Young activists are organizing global climate strikes. Therefore, governments are facing increased pressure to act.”

Classroom applications can be interactive. Students might collaboratively build sentences combining ideas from multiple sources. Peer syntax review encourages attention to clarity and logical flow. Analyzing historical documents or political speeches helps learners notice argumentative structures and rhetorical strategies (Singer, 2019).

Explicit instruction in syntax gives students the skills they need to read critically and think analytically. As they learn how sentence structures work, students begin to make sense of complex texts and strengthen their ability to craft evidence-based arguments. Intentional instruction in this area also helps them to build disciplinary literacy aligned to the Science of Reading. This will support meaningful engagement with content and ideas across subjects. By weaving these practices into daily teaching, educators can empower students to approach learning with confidence and build a deeper understanding of the material.

When academic discourse is deliberately structured, students articulate their reasoning and engage in evidence-based dialogue with classmates (Fisher, Frey, & Hattie, 2023; Singer, 2021). They engage with texts, data, and visual sources to make sense of complex information together.  Carefully designed discussion protocols elevate classroom talk from simple recall to deeper, concept-driven conversations. Students strengthen their understanding of content and develop habits of disciplinary thinking. By creating space for purposeful dialogue, educators help students to communicate more clearly and connect ideas meaningfully (Singer, 2021).

Academic discourse supports higher-order cognitive processes, including critical thinking, perspective-taking, and evaluative reasoning. For example, when students analyze the causes of the American Revolution in a Socratic seminar, they have opportunities to articulate and defend their interpretations. They can also question and evaluate the reasoning of their peers. In addition, multimedia debates that draw on oral, written, and visual sources require students to synthesize evidence from a variety of sources. These activities help to further develop understanding and strengthen students’ ability to communicate complex ideas.

Classroom extensions bring these practices to life. Students work together to analyze primary sources and build arguments collaboratively, learning from each other’s reasoning in the process. Structured peer feedback encourages reflection on their own thinking and rhetorical choices, which strengthens metacognitive skills. When teachers connect discourse to contemporary social and civic issues, students see the relevance of their learning and understand themselves as active participants in society (Singer, 2021).

Teachers can scaffold academic discourse through a range of Science of Reading informed practices that strengthen students’ reasoning and communication skills. Strategies such as think-pair-share, small-group discussions, Socratic seminars, and debates create structured opportunities for students to verbalize their thinking. Discourse prompts help learners express complex ideas clearly while maintaining academic rigor. For example, posting sentence frames for students to refer to during a lesson like, “A historical event that connects to this is ___ because ___” helps to guide learners in articulating more nuanced interpretations. Through these approaches, classroom talk becomes a space where students communicate more effectively by using the reasoning and language of historians and social scientists (Shanahan & Shanahan, 2020; Reisman, 2012).

By integrating structured dialogue with Science of Reading principles and CR-S practices, teachers create environments where students develop both disciplinary literacy and cultural awareness. Students practice reasoning like historians by examining evidence and constructing claims in both discussion and writing. Students grow more confident in analyzing complex ideas as they collaborate, question, and explain their thinking.  These experiences make learning interactive, meaningful, and relevant.  With this students are able to connect their historical thinking to the broader world. 

Integrating the Science of Reading, disciplinary literacy, and CR-S pedagogy gives teachers a clear framework for preparing students to think and work like historians and social scientists. When students receive explicit instruction in academic vocabulary, syntax, language functions, and structured discourse across K–12 social studies, they build the skills to reason critically, communicate evidence-based ideas, and engage deeply with complex content (Shanahan & Shanahan, 2019; Wineburg, Martin, & Monte-Sano, 2020).

High-impact instructional practices enable teachers to support students in working with information presented in text, visuals, and spoken language. When we guide students in reading and annotating complex texts, we help them analyze sources and deepen their comprehension. Structured group discussions provide opportunities for students to practice oral reasoning and consider multiple perspectives. Writing essays encourages them to synthesize ideas and develop well-supported arguments, while presentations that blend visual and spoken components strengthen their ability to communicate effectively. Together, these practices mirror how professional historians and other social scientists think and work to help to prepare students to interpret and construct knowledge independently (Reisman, 2020; Fisher, Frey, & Hattie, 2023).

CR-S pedagogy helps students engage meaningfully with diverse perspectives while building the skills they need to succeed across content areas (Singer, 2021). By integrating literacy supports with culturally responsive teaching, classrooms become inclusive environments where all learners can access rigorous content and participate in evidence-based discourse. This approach not only deepens historical reasoning and literacy but also fosters civic competence.

Equally as important, this approach aligns with the recently adopted NYS Portrait of a Graduate, which emphasizes critical thinking, communication, collaboration, and civic engagement (New York State Education Department, 2025). By weaving together explicit literacy instruction, disciplinary literacy strategies, and CR-S practices, teachers prepare students to become academically confident and socially conscious graduates that are ready to contribute thoughtfully to contemporary society.

Elementary School: Instruction emphasizes foundational content knowledge, vocabulary development, and comprehension strategies. Graphic organizers, role-playing, and guided discussions support learning (Lesaux, Crosson, & Kieffer, 2020). Activities such as historical story mapping, primary source observation, and age-appropriate explorations of current events help students begin engaging in historical thinking. Cause-and-effect relationships, sequencing events, and identifying multiple perspectives are introduced in developmentally appropriate ways. Linking content to students’ lived experiences fosters engagement and civic understanding (Singer, 2019).

Middle School: Students encounter more complex texts, historical arguments, and analytical tasks. Instruction emphasizes annotation, sentence frames, and graphic organizers that support higher-order thinking, analysis, and synthesis (Moje et al., 2020). Structured debates, document-based journals, and comparative analyses connecting contemporary issues to historical contexts encourage evidence-based argumentation. Culturally responsive strategies ensure students critically engage with diverse narratives and social issues (Singer, 2021).

High School: Instruction centers on authentic historical inquiry, requiring analysis of multiple primary and secondary sources, evaluation of evidence, and synthesis of findings in written, oral, and multimedia formats (Wineburg, Martin, & Monte-Sano, 2020). Explicit instruction in syntax, transitions, and argumentation supports coherent and persuasive expression. Thematic writing, multimedia presentations, reflective oral history projects, and civic engagement initiatives allow students to practice the habits of historians. Civic engagement projects link historical analysis to contemporary democratic participation (Singer, 2021).

By scaffolding disciplinary literacy practices across developmental levels, educators ensure students build the cognitive, linguistic, and analytical skills needed for rigorous historical reasoning and civic engagement. This continuum supports a trajectory from content comprehension in elementary school to authentic historical inquiry and civic participation in high school.

August, D., & Shanahan, T. (2022). Developing academic language in content-area classrooms. Educational Researcher, 51(2), 90–101.

Castles, A., Rastle, K., & Nation, K. (2018). Ending the reading wars: Reading acquisition from novice to expert. Psychological Science in the Public Interest, 19(1), 5–51.

Cervetti, G., & Hiebert, E. (2011). What differences in narrative and informational texts mean for the learning and instruction of vocabulary. The Reading Teacher, 65(8), 544–552.

Coxhead, A. (2000). A New Academic Word List. TESOL Quarterly, 34(2), 213–238.

Victoria University of Wellington. (n.d.). Academic Word List. https://www.wgtn.ac.nz/lals/resources/academicwordlist

Fisher, D., Frey, N., & Hattie, J. (2021). Visible learning for literacy, grades 6–12: Implementing the practices that work best to accelerate reading and writing. Corwin.

Fisher, D., Frey, N., & Hattie, J. (2023). Visible learning for literacy in content areas: Science of Reading practices for middle and high school. Corwin.

Lesaux, N. K., Crosson, A., & Kieffer, M. J. (2020). Language and literacy development in culturally and linguistically diverse learners: Implications for practice and policy. Harvard Education Press.

Lesaux, N., & Carr, K. (2023). Science of Reading: What is it? New York State Education Department. https://www.nysed.gov/standards-instruction/literacy-initiative

Langer, J., & Applebee, A. N. (2020). How writing shapes thinking: A study of teaching and learning in the disciplines. Teachers College Press.

Lee, H. (2022). Supporting disciplinary literacy in middle and high school history classrooms: Strategies for navigating complex texts. Journal of Adolescent & Adult Literacy, 65(4), 415–428.

McKeown, M., Beck, I. L., & Omanson, R. C. (2021). Vocabulary instruction for disciplinary literacy: Integrating academic and content-specific terms. Reading Research Quarterly, 56(3), 345–362.

Moje, E. B., Ciechanowski, K. M., Kramer, K., Ellis, L., Carrillo, R., & Collazo, T. (2020). Working toward third space in content area literacy: Disciplinary literacy in middle and high school classrooms. Journal of Adolescent & Adult Literacy, 64(2), 131–144.

Moje, E. B., Overby, M., Tysvaer, N., & Morris, K. (2022). Disciplinary literacy for all students: Expanding access to historical reasoning in middle and high school classrooms. Reading Research Quarterly, 57(1), 101–124.

New York State Education Department. (2025, July). New York inspires: New York State Portrait of a Graduate. https://www.regents.nysed.gov/sites/regents/files/FB%20Monday%20-%20NY%20Inspires-New%20York%20State%20Portrait%20of%20a%20Graduate%20.pdf

Reisman, A. (2020). Historical thinking in practice: Classroom strategies for disciplinary literacy. Routledge.

Shanahan, T. (2021). Disciplinary literacy and content-area reading: What we know and where we need to go. Reading Research Quarterly, 56(1), S41–S62.

Shanahan, T., & Shanahan, C. (2019). Disciplinary literacy meets the Science of Reading. The Reading Teacher, 72(6), 739–748.

Shanahan, T., & Shanahan, C. (2020). Bridging the gap between reading research and disciplinary instruction: Evidence from middle and high school classrooms. Journal of Literacy Research, 52(4), 487–510.

Shanahan, T., & Shanahan, C. (2021). Bridging the gap between reading research and disciplinary literacy. Journal of Adolescent & Adult Literacy, 64(2), 145–154.

Singer, A. (2015). Educating for civic engagement: Theory and practice in social studies classrooms. Teachers College Press.

Singer, A. (2019). Education for democracy: Teaching history and civics in the twenty-first century. Routledge.

Singer, A. (2021). Social studies for a new generation: Pedagogy, curriculum, and assessment. Routledge.

Wineburg, S. (2001). Historical thinking and other unnatural acts: Charting the future of teaching the past. Temple University Press.

Wineburg, S., Martin, D., & Monte-Sano, C. (2020). Reading like a historian: Disciplinary literacy in history classrooms. Teachers College Press.

Wineburg, S., McGrew, S., Breakstone, J., & Ortega, T. (2020). Civic online reasoning and evaluating information. Stanford History Education Group.

Major League Baseball Scandals: From the Black Sox to Modern Pitch-Rigging

Rule 21 governs misconduct in baseball and is posted in English and Spanish in every clubhouse.
Key Provisions:
Section (a) –
Permanent ban for anyone who agrees to lose or fails to give best effort in a game, induces others to do so, or fails to report such solicitation to the Commissioner.

Section (b) – Minimum 3-year ban for offering or accepting gifts/rewards for defeating competing clubs, or failing to report such offers.
Section (c) – Permanent ban for players bribing umpires or umpires accepting bribes to influence decisions.
Section (d): (d)(1) Betting on any baseball game where you have no duty to perform: 1-year ban

(d)(2) Betting on any baseball game where you have a duty to perform: Permanent ban

(d)(3) Placing bets with bookmakers: penalty determined by Commissioner; operating an illegal bookmaking operation carries minimum 1-year suspension
Section (e) –
Commissioner determines penalties for physical attacks on umpires or misconduct during games.
Section (f) – Any conduct “not in the best interests of Baseball” is prohibited and subject to penalties including permanent ineligibility.

Rule 21(d)(2)- bet on any game you’re involved in, banned for life. (This rule ended Pete Rose’s career and now threatens Clase and Ortiz, who allegedly manipulated their own pitches for gambling profits).

Baseball’s troubled history with gambling:

● The 1919 Black Sox Scandal remains baseball’s darkest moment. Eight Chicago White Sox players conspired with gamblers to throw the World Series, leading Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis to ban them permanently. This established baseball’s zero-tolerance gambling policy.

● Mickey Mantle and Willie Mays (1979-1983) faced lesser consequences. Both Hall of Famers accepted public relations jobs with Atlantic City casinos after retirement – Mays for $1 million over ten years, Mantle for $100,000 annually. Commissioner Bowie Kuhn banned both from baseball employment, arguing any gambling connection threatened the sport’s integrity. Critics called this excessive; both were struggling financially in retirement while owners invested in racetracks and casinos. New Commissioner Peter Ueberroth reinstated them in 1985.

● Pete Rose (1989) received a permanent ban after evidence showed he bet on baseball games, including his own team’s, while managing the Cincinnati Reds. Unlike Mantle and Mays, Rose directly wagered on games he could influence, crossing baseball’s biggest line.

The Clase-Ortiz Case

Cleveland Guardians pitchers Emmanuel Clase and Luis Ortiz were indicted November 9, 2025 on charges of rigging pitches for illegal gambling profits. According to prosecutors, the scheme operated from May 2023 through June 2025, netting bettors over $460,000. Clase coordinated with gamblers via text and phone calls during games, predetermining specific pitches-usually sliders in the dirt-so bettors could wager on pitch speed and ball/strike outcomes. Clase allegedly received kickbacks and even provided advance money for bets. He later recruited teammate Ortiz, who received $12,000 for throwing predetermined balls during two starts. If convicted on all charges-wire fraud, conspiracy to influence sporting contests, and money laundering-both face up to 65 years in prison. The amounts seem small compared to their salaries: Clase earned $6.4 million in 2026; Ortiz made $782,600 in 2025.

MLB’s hypocrisy

While Commissioner Rob Manfred has partnered with FanDuel, DraftKings, and other betting platforms, integrating gambling advertising into every broadcast, players face these temptations constantly. Fans can now bet on individual pitches – the exact bets Clase and Ortiz allegedly rigged.

MLB profits from gambling partnerships while maintaining strict anti-gambling rules for players. The league promotes instant gratification betting to young fans whose developing brains are particularly vulnerable to dopamine-driven gambling addiction. As one observer noted, Manfred’s legacy may be defined by inviting new “fans of betting on sports” rather than baseball fans, creating the very corruption he claims to oppose. The Clase-Ortiz scandal demonstrates that when you flood the sport with gambling temptations and revenue, someone will inevitably succumb-potentially destroying not just careers, but the game’s integrity.

1. Should Clase and Ortiz receive permanent bans like Pete Rose, or lesser punishment since they rigged individual pitches rather than game outcomes?

Perspective A: Permanent bans are justified. They actively manipulated play during games through organized conspiracy involving wire fraud and money laundering. They betrayed teammates, fans, and the sport for personal profit. Rigging “only” individual pitches is irrelevant, they sold their integrity and damaged public trust in baseball.

Perspective B: Their actions didn’t determine wins or losses, Clase blew only one save during the scheme. Pete Rose’s betting was much worse and could have affected lineup decisions and team strategy. Clase and Ortiz are also victims of MLB’s gambling-saturated environment. A lifetime ban is hypocritical when the league profits from the same prop bets they rigged.

2. Is MLB at least partially, though indirectly, responsible for the Clase-Ortiz scandal through gambling promotion, or are players solely responsible for their own criminal choices?

Perspective A: Clase earned $6.4 million, he wasn’t desperate. Rule 21 is posted in clubhouses; players receive gambling education. Millions see gambling ads without committing crimes. Organizing wire fraud requires deliberate criminal intent. Blaming MLB absolves criminals of responsibility for premeditated betrayal.

Perspective B: MLB created an environment with saturated broadcasts of gambling ads, normalized betting on individual pitches, and targeted young fans and players with poor impulse control. They profit from prop bets on pitch speed, then act shocked when young players corrupt those same bets. You cannot flood the sport with gambling infrastructure and claim innocence when the inevitable corruption occurs.

A Reflection on July 4

By Lavada Nahon

Twenty-five years before Frederick Douglass gave his famous “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July” speech in Rochester, the enslaved population of New York contemplated a similar question as they prepared to celebrate the abolition of slavery, on July 4, 1827.

As communities across the state decorated to honor the birthday of the new nation, it became increasingly clear to the state’s Black communities that perhaps parading and celebrating in public space to honor their own freedom, had the potential to not end well if they did so on the 4th, the official day of the legal end of slavery in the state. They feared being attacked and suffering other types of violence from the White community because they too would call upon the words their enslavers had shouted so long ago.

They had waited 28 years for legal slavery to end, the time clock started in 1799 with the passing of the Act of Gradual Abolition, which gave no end date for their emancipation, but bound their unborn children to their mother’s enslavers until they were in their mid to late 20s. The Act that opened the way for their children, but not for anyone else. Those who toiled inside and outside for the benefit of others, would be left behind, to continue raising other people’s children, while theirs, at some point in the future could walk unfettered by the unseen, but ever-present chains they wore.

Then came the 1810 law that required the people holding those born free to teach them to read and write. This law was largely ignored, in spite of the fact that not doing so would allow those born free to see emancipation earlier at 18.  Something that the New York Manumission Society helped a number of them do, by taking their enslavers to court and proving that at 18, they could neither read nor write. Then it was seven more years to get to the 1817 Act relative to Servants and Slaves that actually set a date for abolition, even though it was ten years in the future.  It also pave the way for those born before July 4, 1799, and called “slaves” to be released. Finally, there was more than just hope.

But things rarely play out as smoothly as we would like. Weeks before the day was to arrive the conversations started happening. I imagine them beginning as whispered conversations, shared on the fly, when they were out and about working. Then in a somewhat louder voice when they were alone. Their conversations grew until preachers began talking about it. Up and down the road as they moved about, between those enslaved and those already freed, they continued.

They found themselves debating if it was wise for them to celebrate in mass on the official day, because it was the new nation’s birthday, and racism was increasingly a cause for worry as more and more were manumitted, and the presence of free Blacks walking the streets, starting businesses, living their lives began to grind on people’s nerves. Not to mention it had been against the law from the early 1690s for enslaved people to make noise on Sundays. It even appeared in the nation’s first Black owned newspaper which was published in New York City.

These conversations about when to celebrate happened years after many of them had overheard their enslavers talking about obtaining their freedom from Britain in the years leading up to the Revolutionary War. Even as their enslavers tossed around words suggesting that they were being treated like slaves and would not have it, as if taxation without representation equaled being seen as property and not people. I imagine that many enslaved men who had replaced their enslavers on the battlefield thought about their own freedom for the eight years of the war. I’m sure they wondered if the promise of their own freedom given to them when they put on the uniforms, either red coats, or blue jackets, would truly play out.

During the war years as separation from Britain reigned supreme, the large population of enslaved had to manage not only their own lot in life, but the stress and anger of their enslavers who lost homes, crops, animals, stored food, family members, and even other enslaved as various parts of the state were burned out or stolen as troops from both sides, passed by or engaged in battle.

Years after in 1783, at end of the war when Loyalists and British troops were leaving New York, some enslaved may have begun grieving the loss of family or friends who did gain their freedom and may have been aboard one of the ships that took thousands of newly freed Black people from New York’s harbor to Nova Scotia and other ports on evacuation day. After all that time, the enslaved, longing to finally be free, found themselves debating whether it was safe for them to rejoice in their own freedom on the actual day it was given.

As we approach the 200th anniversary of the abolition of slavery in New York on July 4/5 of 2027, many of us find ourselves contemplating some of the same thoughts the waiting to be free people of Albany and New York in general, did. Thinking on some of the sentiments Douglass shared in his 4th of July oration. Asking ourselves, what does the 4th of July mean to us? As my colleagues and I delve deeper into the mountains of documents related to the long history of chattel slavery in New York, and the cumbersome process of dismantling a portion of the institution of slavery, we find ourselves constantly amazed that so many people are still unaware of the deep roots slavery has in our state’s history.

Every once in a while, I find myself thinking that surely it is not so. To figure it out I began talks on occasion with a short three to five question survey. Answers given simply by raising a hand. Unfortunately, when I did this recently before giving an overview of Slavery in New York at Riverbank State Park, the audience of fifty or so people proved that things remained the same. That no matter if the audience is Black or White, or a mixture of our state’s wonderful cultural rainbow, the awareness of New York as a place of enslavement remains too hidden.

I can ask about the 1619 Project and people are aware of it, even if they have not read it. But if I ask when the first enslaved arrived in New Netherland, there generally is silence. I have learned to also ask them if they know what the original colonial name of New York was. Then I generally get a few hands, but not many. So, we are all clear, for years we danced around the year, finally settling on 1626, but after years of wondering, we know now that on August 29, 1627, 22 African men and women arrived in New Amsterdam on a Dutch privateer and became the first of the Dutch West India company’s slaves. We know the name of the ship and the circumstance surrounding how they ended up on a Dutch privateer. Currently we are awaiting the publishing of a paper that will also give us the name of the Portuguese ship they were taken from. Those 22 were part of a larger cargo of over 200 people headed to Brazil. Those 22 men and women were the first, but they would not be the last.

From that day forward, for 200 years, West Central, West, and Malagasy Africans would become the dominant labor force in the colony of New Netherland that would ultimately become the state of New York. Although this truth has been shared for years, it is still too common for people to say that slavery was not part of our state’s history. Part of that is due to the use of the word servant(s) instead of slave(s). In document collections across the state, in maps referring to burial grounds, the servants take up a lot of space. And with our love of British history, we imagine programs like Upstairs, Downstairs, or more recently Downton Abbey, where the servants are White making a decent wage, not enslaved Africans or their descendants. So, we read or listen to Douglass’ speech and say, well…it didn’t happen here. New York was a place of freedom, or a landmass that needed to be crossed to take people to the freedom they’d find in Canada.  But it did. And it happened in Canada too.  

The enslavement of thousands is only one part of the institution of slavery that graced New York. During the 200 years of forced servitude and long after 1827 ended the law of holding people as property, wealth flowed into the state as it had for decades because of the multiple economic links to the transatlantic slave trade, the ties that bound New York to the rest of the world. The wheat economy that was birthed in the 1630s with the establishment of Rensselaerwijck would spread southward down the Hudson River Valley and out to Long Island, and thousands of tons of wheat would flow from the harbors of New York to the Caribbean and West Indies to feed those bound to sugar and salt plantations. Money from the coffers of New York’s elite families would purchase sugar plantations in Jamaica, Barbados, and on other islands, and that wealth would create beautiful homes well into the 19th century like Hyde Hall on Glimmerglass Lake. As the years rolled along, enslaved from those sugar plantations would flow in and out of New York to serve in one way or another their enslavers or their relatives. Or to be sold, bequeathed or rented out, depending upon the need.

The ties to Southern tobacco and later sugar plantations that began during the Dutch period would continue to grow throughout the 200-year history, as people were brought directly from Africa and sold in the South, leaving New York City with the legacy of being the second largest slave market in the 13 colonies. And later in the 19thcentury, Brooklyn would flourish as more of that sugar would arrive to be processed there. As southern cotton expanded, after slavery had ended here, New Yorkers would build factories up and down the Hudson River for processing it. Political dances would be done, to hide the collusions between a free state and southern slavery. Profits would not be forfeited.

Insurance companies based in New York would grow bigger to cover cargo on ships flowing in and out including slave ships. More slave traders would move to New York, the ancestral home of many, in the early 19th century, where ships were easier to get and sail from the state’s harbors to the coasts of West Africa and even though they could not bring Africans into the US any longer, they were fine taking them into Cuba. Fine, until Lincoln finally said no more and the last of New York’s slave traders was hanged in 1861.

The New York Stock Exchange would grow out of these economic links to slavery, and more money would be made. Continuing the process began by the Dutch of individual investors, buying stock in the shipments, just one of many commodities on the world market. The underbelly of slavery would continue to grow fat, well past the years of Douglass’ speech and eventually the history of New York slavery would try to be buried in the early 20th century as the colonial revival period saw many people rewriting their family’s early stories, removing the names of women who raised children, or men who plowed fields, or just burn the wills to hide the numbers of people passed on. But even as hard as they tried, the history of slavery would not be buried for long. Bones were unearthed as villages grew into towns, then into cities and land, once considered worthless was needed. In the expansion, the presence of unmarked graves sent people to maps, which showed African burial grounds or Colored or Negro ones. But that would not stop the desecration. The projects would just move on with remains being dug up and discarded or just covered over.  

The legacy of 200 years of slavery has increasingly caught up with many, as more people delve into their family histories and find that their ancestors were not as pristine as once believed, and the money they bequeathed across the generations came tainted with blood, sweat and a lot of tears. Or they run into someone with the same last name but not the same color skin which has resulted in the messages on many DNA companies which inform people of that before they are shocked by the discovery of who they really are.

What to the slave is the 4th of July is a question that haunts us even today, as we are challenged by the rewriting of our nation’s history by those who live in a settler’s colonized world. The foundation of our nation did not bypass New York. And, it reminds us daily that our state was built on a slave society even as we try to pretend, we were a society with just a few slaves.

2027 is just around the corner, and July 4th will echo Douglass’ time, and fall on a Sunday. A day sacred in its own right. And like the ancestors, across the state, including the folks right here in Albany, many of us will bypass it as the day to honor the abolition of slavery in New York, because well…some history does seem to repeat itself. And like them, we will take to the streets on Monday, July the 5th, and we will listen as bells ring in the air and from our hands at 12:00 noon, for one minute, to remind those who know, and educate those who do not, that slavery was part of New York’s history, and it will never be forgotten again.        

An Interview on Teaching about Controversial Subjects in Today’s Political Climate

What this means in the social studies classroom is that we don’t want students to just accept what the textbook or curriculum says, but we want them to raise their own questions with the material they are being presented with. We also want to provide them with material from different perspectives so that they learn to weigh the validity of different explanations. Our goal is for them to think like historians to prepare them to be active citizens in a democratic society. At the end of the Constitutional Convention, Benjamin Franklin was asked what type of government the delegates had created. Franklin’s reply reverberates today. Franklin said, “A republic, if you can keep it.” We need to equip students so the United States will remain a democracy, if they can keep it.

There are no national social studies standards in the United States so each state Department of Education develops their own. I am most familiar with New York State and New Jersey social studies standards which both strongly support document-based instruction, promoting critical thinking, and preparing students for full participation as citizens. National organizations like the National Council for the Social Studies, the American Historical Association, and the Organization of American Historians also promote these goals. Unfortunately, even though they are in the standards does not mean that we see them in practice in classrooms. Too much of teaching centers on preparing students for state and national reading skill exams that are used to evaluate school districts, schools, and teachers.

Again, the practices you want to see in classrooms will only happen when there is respectful dialogue. Our goal is to learn together, to share ideas, not to win or to silence others. That type of community can take a while to build, but it is essential if students are to become critical historians and responsible citizens in a democratic society. I never lecture. When I talk to much it means I failed to design an effective lesson plan. My role in the classroom is to introduce material and question students as they evaluate primary and secondary source material. What does the text say? What does the text mean? What are your views of the text? What is the evidence presented to support the author’s view? What is the evidence to support your views?

This was my journey, but in answer to your question, it is not forcefully incorporated into state and national curricula and it is not the experience and understanding that many other teachers bring to the classroom. One group that promotes this approach to teaching is Rethinking Schools which also sponsors the Zinn Education Project.

Like it or Not, History Isn’t Rosy

The White House has issued complaints about the history on display in our national museums, complaining that it is too negative, that it portrays the past as a place of hurt. Yet, I would argue that historians, those in the academic world, museum directors, and local historians have been doing their job — and doing it well.

I am a local historian in Ithaca, New York, writing mostly about the place where I live and the region that surrounds it. By listening and observing the work of others, I have learned about Rosie, a young immigrant woman who led a strike in 1913 in Auburn, New York. I have come to see H. H. Coleman as an inadvertent historian whose columns in the Colored American in the 1880s, described the social life of Black people in my town. I have learned about Juanita Breckenridge Bates who led the fight for suffrage in my town and the curious fact, that her husband, in 1917, forgot to turn over his ballot to affirm the fact that women should have the vote. I have learned about Lizzy the enslaved woman who was suddenly “disappeared” from her home in Caroline and sold in the south just as New York was passing a law in 1827 to abolish slavery in the state. I have come to know about Rev. Henry Johnson who brought the AME Zion church in Ithaca into being, but while lecturing around the state was beaten 17 times. I know that the first Jewish rabbi in Ithaca arrived in 1915 where he and his wife had a child; then moving on to Alabama his family was listed as having a child born in Ithaca — with Greece written in pencil above young David’s name, no one in Alabama knowing about Ithaca, New York.

Small things. But they tell a greater picture. That life in the past was not always a rosy place, that laborers had to strike for better working conditions, that Black people fled here and then away again because this was not far enough away from the federal marshals unleashed by the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. I learned that local women worked hard to achieve equality in the law by sending a petition to Albany in 1878 asking that the word male be removed from the state constitution, and that petition, while registered, was then deposited in the trash and never heard of again. So, the women had to go to work again to gain equal rights.

Opening up the faults of the past does not tear down our country but rather it aids us in rising above it. It allows us to see that we can change for the better, recognize our faults, and strive to bring about a pluribus unum. The truth of the past allows us to see that problems and faults can be overcome, that there are moral truths worth fighting for, that individuals matter. It is this diversity that has been uncovered over the past 50 years that has broadened our view of the past and is displayed in museums across the land.

This country was not a place of peace and harmony but a place where individuals had to step out of line to make “good trouble” to bring about necessary change. That story needs to be told ‘lest we believe that the past was unlike the present where there are tensions and contests and inequities that need to be resolved for this be a true democracy.

Historians are doing their job. It is now up to those in power and voters to see that where there is inequity we work for fairness, where there is harm, we bring balm, where there is strife we talk to each other to make the country and the world better places.

Eighty Years of Nuclear Terror

By Lawrence Wittner

Reposted from https://znetwork.org/znetarticle/eighty-years-of-nuclear-terror/.

Ever since the atomic bombings of Japanese cities in August 1945, the world has been living on borrowed time. The indications, then and since, that the development of nuclear weapons did not bode well for human survival, were clear enough. The two small atomic bombs dropped on the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki killed between 110,000 and 210,000 people and wounded many others, almost all of them civilians. In subsequent years, hundreds of thousands more people around the world lost their lives thanks to the radioactive fallout from nuclear weapons testing, while substantial numbers also died from the mining of uranium for the building of nuclear weapons.  Most startlingly, the construction of nuclear weapons armadas against the backdrop of thousands of years of international conflict portended human extinction. Amid the escalating nuclear terror, Einstein declared: “General annihilation beckons.”

Despite the enormity of the nuclear danger, major governments, in the decades after 1945, were too committed to traditional thinking about international relations to resist the temptation to build nuclear weapons to safeguard what they considered their national security. Whatever the dangers, they concluded, military power still counted in an anarchic world. Consequently, they plunged into a nuclear arms race and, on occasion, threatened one another with nuclear war. At times, they came perilously close to it―not only during the 1962 Cuban missile crisis, but during the October 1973 Arab-Israeli war and on numerous other occasions.

By contrast, much of the public found nuclear weapons and the prospect of nuclear war very unappealing. Appalled by the nuclear menace, they rallied behind organizations like the National Committee for a Sane Nuclear Policy in the United States, the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament in Britain, and comparable groups elsewhere that pressed for nuclear arms control and disarmament measures. This popular uprising secured its first clear triumph when, in the fall of 1958, the governments of the United States, the Soviet Union, and Britain agreed to halt nuclear weapons testing as they negotiated a test ban treaty. As the movement crested, it played an important role in securing the Partial Test Ban Treaty of 1963 and a cascade of nuclear arms control measures that followed.

Even when U.S. and Soviet officials revived the nuclear arms race in the late 1970s and early 1980s, a massive public uprising halted and reversed the situation, leading to the advent of major nuclear disarmament measures. As a result, the number of nuclear weapons in the world’s arsenals plummeted from about 70,000 to about 12,240 between 1986 and 2025. At a special meeting of the UN Security Council in 2009, the leaders of the major nuclear powers called for the building of a nuclear weapons-free world.

In recent decades, however, the dwindling of the popular movement and the heightening of international conflict have led to a revival of the nuclear arms race. As three nuclear experts from the Federation of American Scientists reported last June: “Every nuclear country is improving its weapons systems, while some are growing their arsenals. Others are doing both.” The new nuclear weaponry currently being tested includes “cruise missiles that can fly for days before hitting their targets; underwater unmanned nuclear torpedoes; fast-flying maneuverable glide vehicles that can evade defenses; and nuclear weapons in space that can attack satellites or targets on Earth without warning.” The financial costs of the nuclear buildup by the nine nuclear powers (the United States, Russia, China, Britain, France, Israel, India, Pakistan, and North Korea) will be immense. The U.S. government will reportedly spend over $1.7 trillion on its nuclear “modernization.”

To facilitate these nuclear war preparations, the major nuclear powers have withdrawn from key nuclear arms control and disarmament treaties. The New START Treaty, the last of the major U.S.-Russian nuclear agreements, terminates in February 2026. 

Furthermore, over the past decade, the governments of North Korea, the United States, and Russia have issued public threats of nuclear war. In line with its threats, the Russian government announced in late 2024 that it had lowered its threshold for using nuclear weapons. In response to these developments, the Doomsday Clock of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists has been set at 89 seconds to midnight, the most dangerous level in its 79-year history. 

As the record of the years since 1945 indicates, the catastrophe of nuclear war can be averted. To accomplish this, however, a revival of public pressure for nuclear disarmament is essential, for otherwise governments easily slip into the traditional trap of enhancing military “strength” to cope with a conflict-ridden world―a practice that, in the nuclear age, is a recipe for disaster.

This public pressure could begin, as the Nuclear Freeze movement of the 1980s did, with a call to halt the nuclear arms race, and could continue with the demand for specific nuclear arms control and disarmament measures.  But, simultaneously, the movement needs to champion the strengthening of global institutions―institutions that can provide greater international security than presently exists. The existence of these strengthened institutions―for example, a stronger United Nations―would help resolve the violent conflicts among nations that spawn arms races and would undermine lingering public and official beliefs that nuclear weapons are essential to safeguard national security.

Once the world is back on track toward nuclear disarmament, the movement could focus on its campaign for the signing and ratification of the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons. This treaty, providing the framework for a nuclear weapons-free world, was adopted in 2017 by most of the world’s nations and went into force in 2021. Thus far, it has been signed by 94 nations and ratified by 73 of them.

Given recent international circumstances, none of the nuclear powers has signed it. But with widespread popular pressure and enhanced international security, they could ultimately be brought on board.

They certainly should be, for human survival depends upon ending the nuclear terror.