Combating and Treating the Black Death

Imagine a deadly disease ripping through your town and the only hope of survival is in the hands of health workers who rely on established medical knowledge and practical methods in desperate attempts to save your lives. During the late Medieval period between 1347 and 1351, the Black Death stirred chaos across Europe including cities in France and Italy, killing millions of people who were in its deadly path. It brought out great fear and uncertainty in surviving resulting in the use of a variety of treatment methods, blending these practices with religious beliefs and supernatural beliefs. These different approaches reveal just how much medical knowledge at the time was shaped by pre-established knowledge, traditional theories, and practical methods from the past, raising the question: How did health workers attempt to treat and combat the plague during the Medieval period? During the medieval period, health workers attempted to combat and treat the Black Death by mixing established medical knowledge and practical methods together. Methods like theriac, bloodletting, air purifications and experimental treatments from the past like imperial powder, put together traditional healing treatments with evolving practices. This approach will show how past medical knowledge and evolving practices were used by health workers to treat and combat the Black Death. This will also show both the intellectual growth and evolution of medical treatments and methods. 

These health workers were very diverse in their levels of medical knowledge; some were volunteers, nuns, inexperienced physicians and barber surgeons. Even though they had diverse levels of expertise, they all played the biggest role in the plague, giving treatments to those who fell victim to the Black Death. This approach highlights the play between practical methods, established medical knowledge, adaptation, and preventive measures in combating the plague. 

Health workers were trying to fight back at the Black Death using practical methods like bloodletting, which was brought up from past medical knowledge and public health rules growing at the time. As health workers were desperately trying to deal with the crisis the Black Death was bringing, the use of practical and hygienic measures were used as an attempt to help those falling ill. One attempt that was seen in treating the plague was the process of bloodletting. Neil Murphy’s article, “Plague Ordinances and the Management of Infectious Diseases in Northern French Towns, c.1450-c.1560,” goes into detail of the developments of public health systems and the ordinances that shaped the responses to the plague.[1] Murphy is arguing that these ordinances emerged from evolving strategies like those in Italy, were connected to cultural and intellectual contexts bringing together medical theories with practical actions. Murphy in this emphasizes the practice of bloodletting, which was performed by barber surgeons or surgeons. This procedure was aimed at removing contaminated blood, slowing down the disease in the body.2 This method shows the connection between the medical theories at the time and practical actions taken, which were shaped by the intellectual contexts of this time.

Past strategies were seen greatly in these attempts along with bloodletting, another we see is attempts in changing emotional and medical practices through survival stories. From survivors’ stories, we can understand attempts made during this time to stop the plague, especially through health workers trying to help based on past medical knowledge and practical treatments similarly to past knowledge on bloodletting. Nicole Archambeau in “Healing Options during the Plague: Survivor Stories from a Fourteenth-Century Canonization Inquest”, shows great emphasis in the intellectual context of medicines and its “miracles” on those it healed, showing how beliefs and medical practices intersected to shape the responses to the plague.[2] At this time, some people wanted healing methods combining religious and practical approaches, including methods of emotional changes. Archambeau argued that “Witnesses had healing options’… their testimonies reveal a willingness to try many different methods of healing, often all at once”[3] This shows how survivors were relying on any type of resources from family, friends and health workers connecting their beliefs and intellectual medical practices at this time. Health workers adapted their methods of helping based on the resources that were available as well as on the patients’ wants and needs. This highlights the adaptability and flexibility these health workers had for their patients and their commitment to help treat those suffering during this time of horror and devastation.

Similarly, through the past medical knowledge, health workers relied on giving treatments that blended intellectual medical knowledge with practical methods to attempt treating the plague. Another piece to these treatments we see is a compound called theriac. Christiane Nockels Fabbri’s article “Treating Medieval Plague: The Wonderful Virtues of Theriac,” shows the use of Theriac, a compound that has been used as an antidote since ancient times, being a crucial treatment during the Black Death. Fabbri argues that the use of Theriac in these treatments demonstrates how health workers applied this traditional remedy to this new disease showing conservatism of these medical practices. Fabbri states how “In plague medicine, theriac was used as both a preventive and therapeutic drug and was most likely beneficial for a variety of disease complaints.”[4] This shows how health workers relied on this because of its practical efficiency and its intellectual and cultural significance in the past.

From these three sources, it is clear to see how they all were similar in how health workers tended to link past medical knowledge with their practical methods to help suffering, showing how they attempted to go about treating the plague. Treatments like bloodletting, personal wanted miracle methods and theriac were just a few of the ways they attempted to help those who got sick. My analysis highlights how these treatments were based on public health measures that were put into cities to help maintain and stop the spreading of the plague. Ordinances aimed to help isolate the disease and keep calm over the chaos that the plague was bringing into town. These helped to create a framework that helped health workers approach how they would attempt to treat those who fell sick.

One of the main and well-known treatments given by health workers during this time was a drug called theriac. This type of medicine was extremely popular in its effectiveness and was wanted by victims once they fell ill or were scared that they would fall ill. In “The real Theriac – panacea, poisonous drug or quackery?” by Raj, Danuta, Katarzyna Pękacka-Falkowska, Maciej Włodarczyk and Jakub Węglorz, talks about this compound and its ability to remove diseases and poison from the body and how it was a well-known and used drug during the medieval period; “Consequently, Theriac was being prepared during epidemics, especially the plague  (Black Death), in large quantities as a form of emergency medicine (Griffin, 2004).”[5] Relying on theriac as a direct treatment, health workers showed their commitment to using this accessible great drug that was well known, to make people confident that this treatment would work during a time of uncertainty and devastation.

Correspondingly, we see another direct form of treatment that health workers used to treat those who had the plague, bloodletting. Health workers would prick veins to do this.  This was a way of extracting bad blood from the body to restore its balance. We see this in document 62 “The Treatise of John of Burgundy, 1365” written by John Burgundy. It projects the practical medical knowledge at the time that health workers were applying to treat those who have been hit with the Black Death. Burgundy continues to talk about the use of bloodletting, informing that “If, however, the patient feels prickings in the region of the liver, blood should be let immediately from the basilic vein of the right arm (that is the vein belonging to the liver, which is immediately below the vein belonging to the heart)”[6]. He is giving a specific technique to address this issue, giving us a practical method of treatment that shows how health workers used these hands-on treatments to combat the plague

These two methods were greatly known during the medieval period. They both offered hope to those who were desperate and wanting treatment so they would not die. These treatments at this time offered the feeling of control to the scary situation for its victims and gave a sense of hope to get better. Knowing theriac and bloodletting were used as treatment for victims, it helped to feel less overwhelmed and made it seem like health workers would be the redeeming feature to their deadly crisis.

Established Medical Knowledge

During the medieval period, health workers were able to recognize and understand that miasma, contaminated air, was the main causing factor of why the Black Death was spreading so much and killing everyone in its path. Due to this understanding, they implemented environmental purification strategies to end exposure of miasma. “The dangers of corrupted air” by Bengt Knutsson, shows great emphasis on this fear of the contaminated air and goes into methods that were used and done to cleanse the space and environment people were living in. A practice that health workers implemented to stop the miasma from taking over was to “Therefore let your house be clean and make clear fire of wood flaming. Let your house be made with fumigation of herbs, that is to say with leaves of bay tree, juniper…”[7] while also explaining opening windows at certain times and remedies if you feel sick.[8] These techniques reflect how established medical knowledge can be used in order to come up with ways to treat and combat the plague. Including the purification methods into the plague’s prevention by health workers, they were able to adapt with their knowledge on air quality and turn that into strategies to combat the Black Death. 

Through the fears of the Black Death, health workers were relying on past medical knowledge, practices and strategies to manage the spread of this disease and to treat those who have been infected. The “Ordinances against the spread of plague, Pistoia, 1348” elaborates on how these workers used their past medical knowledge to reduce the spread and create a safer environment to go about treatments. This chronicler explains limiting your exposure to those who are ill by completely restricting people and patients’ interactions.[9] This will provide health  workers with the safest opportunity to apply these treatments, like bloodletting or giving theriac, in a more controlled environment. This approach further reflects the combination of traditional medical knowledge and practical adaptations so then health workers could attempt to combat the plague’s destruction.

Health workers relied heavily on past medical knowledge and theories during this time of uncertainty to combat the Black Death, bringing together adaptations with established knowledge. The understanding of bad air being the cause helped them greatly in purification techniques like burning the herbs to mask the miasma. The ordinances stressing the need for isolation and restriction for interactions to give a safer environment for the health workers showed their adaptability to meet the demands of the plague as well as their preservation of historical medical theories of those in the past doing it. This shows the continuity and innovation that came during this period when trying to understand and combat the plague. 

One way that health workers attempted to treat and combat the plague was through the development of treatments that were adapted from past medical knowledge. An example of this was imperial powder, in John Burgundy’s “The Treatise of Burgundy, 1365” being known as a “powerful preventative” that was thought of to be stronger than theriac. Burgundy explains how “gentile emperors used it against epidemic illness, poison and venom, and against the bite of serpents and other poisonous animals”[10] This powder was made from some herbs like St John’s wort, medicinal earth from Lemnos and dittany which shows us the diverse ingredients to kill off poison that were believed from the past and venoms that were inside the body. To use this powder, they would either apply it directly to the skin or by mixing it with a drink like wine for ingestion purposes. This shows the health workers willingness to experiment with past medical treatments to adapt it to the current plague they were going through, to find a better treatment for the Black Death. 

Looking past medical treatments, to do them, health workers were implementing strict isolation strategies in order to combat and limit the spread of plague while also keeping the environment safe in order to treat those who fell ill. “The plague in Avignon” by Louis Heyligen shows emphasis on this isolation of staying away from neighboring areas and people so then health workers can do what they needed to do to help. This was an attempt made to manage the spreading of the disease through the town.  It states how “…avoid getting cold, and refrain from any excess, and above all mix little with people – unless it be with few who have healthy breath; but it is best to stay at home until the epidemic has passed”[11].  Having this advising gives the reflection of the public health strategies that were employed in the cities being tied to medical treatments, because limiting the exposure would directly allow more health workers to safely treat those who were sick and in need of treatments. Trying to minimize contact with one another was a great strategy in controlling the transmission to get the disease to slow down in spreading. From the emotions brought on from the Black Death, it shows the willingness people were taking, to make it safer conditions outside for families and health workers.

Combining both the experimental treatments like imperial powder with the isolation policies, it opened the view of just how much health workers were combining the preexisting medical knowledge with their preventative measures to successfully combat the plague while treating it. Having this adaptability further influences medical practices and lays a greater foundation for future prevention strategies for diseases that come. 

In conclusion, we have explored several ways in which health workers attempted to treat the plague and combat it through pre-stablished medical knowledge and practical methods. These health workers, being remarkably diverse in who they were, applied many strategies and methods that were used including enforcing strict public health ordinances, the practice of bloodletting by barber surgeons, air purifications, use of Theriac and experimenting with the use of the imperial powder to attempt treating the plague. These health workers showed great standing adaptability to what was going on while building off the existing knowledge of medical treatments to address the deadliest crisis in history. This analysis gives a deeper understanding of medical knowledge and how they used their past resources to understand and try to save those who contracted this disease. Also, this shows how these attempts were deeply rooted into the intellectual history of these times through health workers drawing information from past medical scholars and past knowledge to gain a better understanding in how to perform their practices and methods. Involving themselves in this intellectual history, they were putting a building block on top of centuries of their medical knowledge through experimenting with it and adding new responses to how they attempted to treat their new disease. These contributions to the Black Death only strengthens our understanding of past medical history during the Black Death and past centuries. 

Archambeau, Nicole. “Healing Options during the Plague: Survivor Stories from a Fourteenth-Century Canonization Inquest.” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 85, no. 4 (2011):  531–59. http://www.jstor.org/stable/44452234.

Burgundy, “The Treatise of Burgundy, 1365” pp.184-193

Chiappelli, A. “Ordinances against the Spread of Plague, Pistoia, 1348.” pp 194- 203

Fabbri, Christiane Nockels. “Treating Medieval Plague: The Wonderful Virtues of Theriac.” Early Science and Medicine 12, no. 3 (2007): 247–83. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/20617676. Heyligen, “The Plague in Avignon.” pp.41-45

Horrox, R., ed. The Black Death (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994).

Knutsson, “The dangers of corrupted air” pp.173-177  

 Murphy, Neil. “Plague Ordinances and the Management of Infectious Diseases in Northern French Towns, c.1450–c.1560.” In The Fifteenth Century XII: Society in an Age of Plague, edited by Linda Clark and Carole Rawcliffe, 139-160. Woodbridge: Boydell & Brewer, 2013

Raj, Danuta, Katarzyna Pękacka-Falkowska, Maciej Włodarczyk, and Jakub Węglorz. 2021.  “The Real Theriac – Panacea, Poisonous Drug or Quackery?” Journal of          Ethnopharmacology 281 (December): N.PAG. doi:10.1016/j.jep.2021.114535.   


[1] Murphy, Neil. “Plague Ordinances and the Management of Infectious Diseases in Northern French Towns, c.1450–c.1560.” In The Fifteenth Century XII: Society in an Age of Plague, edited by Linda Clark and Carole Rawcliffe, 139-160. Woodbridge: Boydell & Brewer, 2013 2 Murphy, 146.

[2] Archambeau, Nicole. “Healing Options during the Plague: Survivor Stories from a Fourteenth Century Canonization Inquest.” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 85, no. 4 (2011): 531–59. http://www.jstor.org/stable/44452234.

[3] Archambeau, 537.

[4] Fabbri, Christiane Nockels. “Treating Medieval Plague: The Wonderful Virtues of Theriac.” Early Science and Medicine 12, no. 3 (2007): 247–83. http://www.jstor.org/stable/20617676.  

[5] Raj, Danuta, Katarzyna Pękacka-Falkowska, Maciej Włodarczyk, and Jakub Węglorz. 2021. “The Real Theriac – Panacea, Poisonous Drug or Quackery?” Journal of Ethnopharmacology 281 (December): N.PAG.

[6] Burgundy, “The Treatise of Burgundy, 1365” in The Black Death, ed. And trans. Rosemary Horrox (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994), 189.

[7] Knutsson, “The dangers of corrupted air” p.176

[8] Knutsson, “The dangers of corrupted air,” p.176

[9] Chiappelli, “Ordinances against the spread of plague, Pistoia, 1348,” p. 195 

[10] Burgundy, “The Treatise of Burgundy, 1365” p.190

[11] Heyligen, “The Plague in Avignon” p. 45

Unseen Fences: How Chicago Built Barriers Inside its Schools

Northern public schools are rarely ever centered in national narratives of segregation. Yet as Thomas Sugrue observes, “even in the absence of officially separate schools, northern public schools were nearly as segregated as those in the south.”[1] Chicago Illustrates this, despite the Jim Crow laws, the city developed a racially organized educational system that produced outcome identical to those segregated in southern districts.  The city’s officials celebrated equality while focusing on practices that isolated black students in overcrowded schools. The north was legally desegregated and was not pervasive but put into policies and structures of urban governance.

This paper argues that Chicago school segregation was intentional. It resulted from a coordinated system that connected housing discrimination, political resistance to integration, and targeted policies crafted to preserve racial separation in public schools. While Brown v. Board of Education outlawed segregation by law, Chicago political leaders, school administration, and networks maintained it through zoning, redlining, and administrative manipulation. Using both primary source, newspapers NAACP records, and a great use of historical scholarship, this paper shows how segregation in Chicago was enforced, defended, challenged, and exposed by the communities that it harmed.

The historical context outlined above leads to several central research questions that guide this paper. First, how did local governments and school boards respond to the Brown v. Board of Education decision, and how did their policies influence the persistence of segregation in Chicago? Second, how did housing patterns and redlining contribute to the continued segregation of schools? Third, how did the racial dynamics of Chicago compare to those in other northern cities during the same period?

These questions have been explored by a range of scholars. Thomas Surgue’s Sweet Land of Liberty provides the framework for understanding northern segregation as a system put in the local government rather than state law. Sugrue argues that racism in the north was “structural, institutional, and spatial rather than legal, shaped through housing markets, zoning decisions, and administrative policy. His work shows that northern cities constructed segregation through networks of bureaucratic authority that were hard to challenge. Sugrue’s analysis supports the papers argument by demonstrating that segregation in Chicago was not accidental but maintained through everyday decisions.

Philip T.K. Daniel’s scholarship deepens this analysis of Chicago by showing how school officials resisted desegregation both before and after Brown v. Board. In his work A History of the Segregation-Discrimination Dilemma: The Chicago Experience, Daniel shows that Chicago public school leaders manipulated attendance boundaries, ignored overcrowding schools, and defended “neighborhood schools” as the way to preserve racial separation. Daniel highlights that “in the years since 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision, research have repeatedly noted that all black schools are regarded inferior.”[2] Underscoring the continuing of inequality despite federal mandates. Daniel’s findings reinforce these papers claim that Chicago’s system was made intentional, and the local officials played a high role in maintaining segregation.

Dionne Danns offers a different perspective by examining how students, parents, and community activists responded to the Chicago public school’s discriminatory practices. In Crossing Segregated Boundaries, her study of Chicago’s High School Students Movement, Danns argues that local activism was essential to expose segregation that officials tied to hide. She shows that black youth did not just fix inequalities of their schools but also developed campaigns, boycotts, sit-ins, which challenged Chicago Public School officials and reshaped the politics of education. Danns’ work supports the middle portion of this paper, it analyzes how community resistance forced Chicago’s segregation practices in a public view.

Paul Dimond’s Beyond Busing highlights how the court system struggled to confront segregation in northern cities because it did not connect with the law. Dimond argues that Chicago officials used zoning, optional areas, intact busing, and boundaries to maintain separation while avoiding the law. He highlights that, “the constant thread in the boards school operation was segregation, not neighborhood,”[3] showing that geographic justification was often a barrier for racial intent. Dimond’s analysis strengthens the argument that Chicago’s system was coordinated and on purpose, built through “normal” administrative decisions.

Jim Carl expands the scholarship into the time of Harold Washington, showing how political leadership shaped the educational reform. Carl argues that Washington believed in improving black schools not through desegregation but through resource equity and economic opportunities for black students. This perspective highlights how entrenched the early segregation policies were, reformers like Washington built a system that was made to disadvantage black communities. While Carl’s focus is later in the Papers period, his work provides the importance of how political structure preserved segregation for decades.

Chicago’s experience with segregation was both typical and different among the northern cities. Cities like Detroit, Philadelphia, and New York faced similar challenges. Chicago’s political machine created these challenges. As Danns explains in “Northern Desegregation: A Tale of Two Cities”, “Chicago was the earliest northern city to face Title VI complaint. Handling the complaint, and the political fallout that followed, left the HEW in a precarious situation. The Chicago debacle both showed HEW enforcement in the North and West and the HEW investigating smaller northern districts.”[4]  This shows how much political interest molded the cities’ approach to desegregation, and how federal authorities had a hard time holding the local systems responsible. The issue between the local power and federal power highlighted a broader national struggle for civil rights in the north, and a reminder that racial inequality was not only in one region but in the entire country. Chicago’s challenge highlights the issues of producing desegregation in areas where segregation was less by the law, and more by policies and politics.

Local policy and zoning decisions made segregation rise even more. In Beyond Busing, Paul R. Dimond says, “To relieve overcrowding in a recently annexed area with a racially mixed school to the northeast, the Board first built a school in a white part and then rejected the superintendent’s integrated zoning proposal to open new schools…. the constant thread in the Board’s school operations was segregation, not neighborhood.”3 These decisions show policy manipulation, rather than the illegal measures that maintained separation.

Dimond further emphasizes the pattern: “throughout the entire history of the school system, the proof revealed numerous manipulations and deviations from ‘normal’ geographic zoning criteria in residential ‘fringes’ and ‘pockets,’ including optional zones, discontinuous attendance areas, intact busing, other gerrymandering and school capacity targeted to house only one race; this proof raised the inference that the board chose ‘normal’ geographic zoning criteria in the large one-race areas of the city to reach the same segregated result.”3  These adjustments were hard but effective in strengthening segregation by making sure even when schools were open, the location, and resource issuing meant that black students and white students would have different education environments. The school board’s actions show a bigger strategy for protecting the status quo under the “neighborhood” schools and making it understandable that segregation was not an accident but a policy.

On the other hand, Carl highlights the policy solutions that are considered for promoting integration, other programs which attract a multiracial, mixed-income student body. Redraw district lines and place new schools to maximize integration… busing does not seem to be an issue in Chicago…it should be obviously metro wide, because the school system is 75 percent minority.” [5]. This approach shows the importance of system solutions that go beyond busing, and integration requires addressing the issue of racial segregation in schools. Carl’s argument suggests that busing itself created a lasting change. By changing district lines, it is not just about moving the children around, but to change the issues that reinforce segregation.

Understanding Chicago’s segregation requires comparing northern and southern practices. Unlike the south, where segregation was organized in law, northern segregation was de facto maintained through residential patterns, local policies, and bureaucratic practices. Sugrue explains, “in the south, racial segregation before Brown was not fundamentally intertwined with residential segregation.”1. This shows how urban geography and housing discrimination shaped educational inequality in northern cities. In Chicago, racial restrictive, reddling, confined black families to specific neighborhoods, and that decided which school the children could attend. This allowed northern officials to say that segregation was needed more than as a policy.

Southern districts did not rely on geographic attendance zones to enforce separation; “southern districts did not use geographic attendance zones to separate black and whites.”1. In contrast, northern cities like Chicago used zones and local governance to achieve smaller results. Danns notes, “while legal restrictions in the south led to complete segregation of races in schools, in many instances the north represented de facto segregation, which was carried out as a result of practice often leading to similar results”4. This highlights the different methods by segregation across regions, even after the legal mandates for integration. In the south, segregation was enforced by the law, making the racial boundaries clear and intentional.

Still, advocacy groups were aware of the nationwide nature of this struggle. In a newspaper called “Key West Citizen” it says, “a stepped-up drive for greater racial integration in public schools, North and South is being prepared by “negro” groups in cities throughout the country.”  Resistance for integration could take extreme measures, including black children to travel long distances to go to segregated schools, while allowing white children to avoid those schools. In the newspaper “Robin Eagle” it notes, “colored children forced from the school they had previously attended and required to travel two miles to a segregated school…white children permitted to avoid attendance at the colored school on the premise that they have never been enrolled there.” [6] These examples show how resistance to integration represents a national pattern of inequality. Even though activist and civil rights groups fought for the educational justice, the local officials and white communities found ways to keep racial segregation. For black families, this meant their children were affected by physical and emotional burdens of segregation like, long commutes, bad facilities, and reminder of discrimination. On the other hand, white students received help from more funding and better-found schools. These differences show how racial inequality was within American education, as both northern and southern cities and their systems worked in several ways.

Understanding Chicago’s segregation requires comparing northern and southern practices. Unlike the south, where segregation was organized in law, northern segregation was de facto maintained through residential patterns, local policies, and bureaucratic practices. Sugrue explains, “in the South, racial segregation before Brown was not fundamentally intertwined with residential segregation.”1. This shows how urban geography and housing discrimination shaped educational inequality in northern cities. In Chicago, racial restrictive, reddling, confined black families to specific neighborhoods, and that decided which school the children could attend. This allowed northern officials to say that segregation was needed more than as a policy.

Southern districts did not rely on geographic attendance zones to enforce separation; “southern districts did not use geographic attendance zones to separate black and whites.”1 In contrast, northern cities like Chicago used zone and local governance to achieve smaller results. Danns notes, “while legal restrictions in the south led to complete segregation of races in schools, in many instances the north represented de facto segregation, which was carries out as a result of practice often leading to similar results”.4 This highlights the different methods by segregation across regions, even after the legal mandates for integration. In the South, segregation was enforced by the law, making the racial boundaries clear and intentional.

Yet the advocacy groups were aware of the nationwide nature of this struggle. In a newspaper called “Key West Citizen” it says, “a stepped-up drive for greater racial integration in public schools, North and South is being prepared by “negro” groups in cities throughout the country.” Resistance for integration could take extreme measure, including black children to travel long distances to go to segregated schools, while allowing white children to avoid those schools. These examples show how resistance to integration represents a national pattern of inequality. Even though activist and civil rights groups fought for educational justice, the local officials and white communities found ways to keep racial segregation. For black families, this meant their children were affected by physical and emotion burdens of segregation like, long commutes, bad facilities, and reminder of discrimination. On the other hand, white students received help from more funding and better-found schools. These differences show how racial inequality was within American education, as both northern and southern cities and their systems worked in several ways.

The policies that shaped Chicago schools in the 1950’s and 1960’s cannot be understood without looking at key figures such as Benjamin Willis and Harold Washington. Benjamin Willis, who was a superintendent of Chicago Public Schools from 1953 to 1966 and became known for his resistance to integration efforts. Willis’ administration relied on the construction of mobile classrooms, also known as “Willis wagons,” to deal with the overcrowding of Black schools. Other than reassigning students to nearby under-enrolled schools, Willis placed these classrooms in the yards of segregated schools. As Danns explains, Willis was seen by Chicagoans as the symbol of segregation as he gerrymandered school boundaries and used mobile classrooms (labeled Willis Wagons) to avoid desegregation.”4  . His refusal to implement desegregation measures made him a target of protest, including boycotts led by families and students.

On the other hand, Harold Washington, who would become Chicago’s first black mayor, represented a shift towards community-based reform and equality-based policies. Washington believed that equality in education required more than racial integration, but it needed structural investment in Black schools and economic opportunities for Black students. Jim Carl writes, Washington’s approach, “Washington would develop over the next thirty-three years, one that insisted on adequate resources for Black schools and economic opportunities for Black students rather than viewing school desegregation as the primary vehicle for educational improvement.”5 His leadership came from the earlier civil rights struggles of the 1950’s and 1960’s with the justice movements that came in the post-civil rights era.

Chicago’s experience in the mid-twentieth century provides an example of how racial segregation was maintained through policy then law.  In the postwar era, there was an increase in Chicago’s population. Daniel writes, “this increased the black school population in that period by 196 percent.”4. By the 1950’s, the Second Great Migration influenced these trends, with thousands of Black families arriving from the south every year. As Sugrue notes, “Blacks who migrated Northern held high expectations about education.” 1.   There was hope the northern schools would offer opportunities unavailable in the South. Chicago’s public schools soon became the site of racial conflict as overcrowding; limited resources, and administrative discrimination showed the limits of those expectations.

One of the features of Chicago’s educational system is the era of the “neighborhood schools” policy. On paper, this policy allowed students to attend schools near their homes, influencing the community. In practice, it was a powerful policy for preserving racial segregation. Sugrue explains, “in densely populated cities, schools often within a few blocks of one another, meaning that several schools might serve as “neighborhood”.”1. Because housing in Chicago was strictly segregated through redlining, racially restrictive areas, and de facto residential exclusion, neighborhood-based zoning meant that Black and white students were put into separate schools. This system allowed city officials to claim that segregation reflected residential patterns rather than intentional and avoiding the violation of Brown. A 1960 New York Times article called, “Fight on Floor now ruled out” by Anthony Lewis, revealed how Chicago officials publicly dismissed accusations of segregation while internally sustaining the practice. The article reported that school leaders insisted that racial imbalance merely reflected “neighborhood conditions” and that CPS policies were “not designed to separate the races,” even as Black schools operated far beyond capacity.”[7] This federal-level visibility shows that Chicago’s segregation was deliberate: officials framed their decisions as demographic realities, even though they consistently rejected integration measures that would have eased overcrowding in Black schools.

The consequences of these policies became visible by the 1960’s. Schools in Black neighorhoods were overcrowded, operating on double shifts or in temporary facilities. As Dionne Danns describes in Northern Desegregation: A Tale of Two Cities, she says, “before school desegregation, residential segregation, along with Chicago Public School (CPS) leaders’ administrative decisions to maintain neighbor-hood schools and avoid desegregation, led to segregated schools. Many Black segregated schools were historically under-resourced and overcrowded and had higher teacher turnover rates.”[8] The nearby white schools had empty classrooms and more modern facilities. This inequality sparked widespread community outrage, setting up the part for the educational protest that would define Chicago’s civil rights movement.

The roots of Chicago’s school segregation related to its housing policies. Redlining, the practice by which federal agencies and banks denied loans to Black homebuyers and systematically combined Black families to certain areas of the city’s south and west sides. These neighborhoods were often shown by housing stock, limited public investment, and overcrowding. Due to this policy, school attendance zones were aligned with neighborhood boundaries, these patterns of residential segregation were mirrored with the city’s schools. As historian Matthew Delmont explains in his book, Why Busing Failed, this dynamic drew the attention of federal authorities: “On July 4, 1965, after months of school protest and boycotts,  civil rights groups advocated in Chicago by filing a complaint with the U.S. Office of Education charging that Chicago’s Board of Education violated Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.”[9] This reflected how much intertwined housing and education policies were factors of racial segregation. The connection between where families could live and where their children could attend school showed how racial inequality was brought through everyday administrative decisions, and molding opportunities for generations of black Chicagoans.

These systems, housing, zoning, and education helped maintain a racial hierarchy under local control. Even after federal courts and civil rights organizations pushed for compliance with Brown, Chicago’s officials argued that their schools reflect demographic reality rather than discriminatory intent. This argument shows how city planners, developers, and school administrators collaborated. School segregation was not a shift from southern style Jim Crow, but a defining feature of North governance.

Chicago’s struggle with school segregation was not submissive. Legal challenges and community activism were tools in confronting inequalities. The NAACP Legal Defense Fund filed many lawsuits to challenge these policies and targeted the districts that violated the state’s education law. Parents and students organized boycotts and protests and wanted to draw attention to the injustices. Sugrue notes, “the stories of northern school boycotts are largely forgotten. Grassroots boycotts, led largely by mothers, inspired activists around the country to demand equal education”1.  The boycotts were not symbolic but strategic; community driven actions targeted at the system’s resistance to change. These movements represented an assertion of power from communities that had to be quiet by discriminatory policies. Parents, especially black mothers, soon became figures in these campaigns, using their voices, and organizing ways to demand responsibility from school boards and city officials. Their actions represented the change that would not come straight from the courtrooms, but from the people affected by injustice. The boycotts interrupted the normal school system and forced officials to listen to the demands for equal education. 

Danns emphasizes the range of activism during this period, writing in Chicago High School Students’ Movement for Quality Public Education: “in the early 1960’s, local and prominent civil rights organizations led a series of protests for school desegregation. These efforts included failed court cases, school boycotts, and sit-ins during superintendent Benjamin Willis administration, all which led to negligible school desegregation”[10]. Despite the limited success of these efforts, the activism of the 1960’s was important for exposing the morals of northern liberalism, and the continuing of racial inequalities outside the South. Student-led protests and communities organizing, not only challenged the policies of the Chicago Board of Education but also influenced the new generation for young people to see education as a main factor in the struggle for civil rights.

Legal tactics were critical in enforcing agreements. An article from the NAACP Evening Star writes, “on the basis of an Illinois statute which states that state-aid funds may be withheld from any school district that segregated based on race or color.” [11]The withholding of state funds applied pressure on resistant boards, showing that legal leverage could have consequences. When the board attempted to deny black students’ admission, the NAACP intervened.  In the newspaper “Evening Star”, They reported, “Although the board verbally refused to admit negro students and actually refused to do so when Illinois students applied for admission, when the board realized that the NAACP was going to file suit to withhold state-aid funds, word was sent to each student who had applied that they should report to morning classes.” [12]This shows how legal and financial pressure became one of the effective ways for enforcing desegregation. The threat of losing funds forced the school boards to work with the integration orders, highlighting the appeals were inadequate to undo the system of discrimination. The NAACP’s strategy displayed the importance of defense with legal enforcement, using the courts and states’ statutes to hold them accountable. This illustrated that the fight for educational equality required not only the protest, but also the legal base to secure that justice was to happen. This collaboration of legal action and grassroots mobilization reflects the strategy that raised both formal institutions and community power, showing the northern resistance to desegregation was far from being unchanged.

Chicago’s segregated schools had long-lasting effects on Black students, particularly through inequalities in the education system. Schools in Black neighborhoods were often overcrowded, underfunded, and provided fewer academic resources than their white counterparts. These disparities limited educational opportunities and shaped students’ futures. The lack of funding meant that schools could no longer afford placement courses, extracurricular programs, or even resources for classrooms, this shaped a gap in the quality of education between and black and white students. Black students in these kinds of environments were faced with educational disadvantages, but also less hope on their future.

Desegregation advocates sought to address both inequality and social integration. Danns explains, “Advocates of school desegregation looked to create integration by putting students of different races into the same schools. The larger goal was an end to inequality, but a by-product was that students would overcome their stereotypical ideas of one another, learn to see each other beyond race, and even create interracial friendships”4. While the ideal of desegregation included fostering social understanding, the reality of segregated neighborhoods and schools often hindered these outcomes. Even when legal policies aimed to desegregate schools, social and economic blockades continued to bring separation. Many white families moved to suburban districts to avoid integration. This created more classrooms to be racially diverse and left many of the urban schools attended by students of color.

The larger society influenced students’ experiences inside schools, despite efforts to create inclusive educational spaces. Danns explains, “In many ways, these schools were affected by the larger society; and tried as they might. Students often found it difficult to leave their individual, parental, or community views outside the school doors”9 Even when students developed friendships across racial and ethnic lines, segregated boundaries persisted: “Segregated boundaries remained in place even if individuals had made friends with people of other racial and ethnic groups”4. The ongoing influence of social norms and expectations meant that schools were not blinded by the racial tensions that existed outside their walls. While the teachers and administration may have tried to bring a more integrated environment, the racial hierarchies and prejudices in the community often influenced the students’ interactions. These hurdles were not always visible, but they shaped the actions within the school in fine ways. Despite the efforts at inclusion, the societal context of segregation remained challenging, and limited the integration and equality of education.

Beyond the social barriers, the practical issue of overcrowding continued to affect education. Carl highlights this concern, quoting Washington: “In interest, Washington stated that the issue ‘is not “busing,” it is freedom of choice. Parents must be allowed to move their children from overcrowded classrooms. The real issue is quality education for all’5. The focus on “freedom of choice” underscores that structural inequities, rather than simple policy failures, were central to the ongoing disparities in Chicago’s schools.

Overcrowding in urban schools was a deeper root to inequality. Black neighborhoods were often left with underfunded and overcrowded schools, while the white schools had smaller classes, and more resources. The expression of “freedom of choice” was meant to show that parents in marginalized communities should all have the same educational opportunity as the wealthier neighborhoods. However, this freedom was limited by residential segregation, unequal funding, and barriers that restricted many within the public school system.

The long-term impact of segregation extended beyond academics into the social and psychological lives of Black students. Segregation reinforced systemic racism and social divisions, contributing to limited upward mobility, economic inequality, and mistrust of institutions. Beyond the classroom, these affects shaped how the black students viewed themselves and where they stand in society. Psychologically, this often resulted in lower self-esteem and no academic motivation. Socially, segregation limited interactions between the different racial groups, and formed stereotypes. Overtime, these experiences came from a cycle in the issue of educational and government institutions, as black communities struggled with inequalities continuously.

  Black students were unprepared for the realities beyond their segregated neighborhoods, “Some Black participants faced a rude awakening about the world outside their high schools. Their false sense of security was quickly disrupted in the isolated college towns they moved to, where they met students who had never had access to the diversity they took for granted”9. This contrast between the relative diversity within segregated urban schools and the other environments illustrates how deeply segregation shaped expectations, socialization, and identity formation.

Even after desegregation policies were implemented, disparities persisted in access to quality education. Danns observes that, decades later, access to elite schools remained unequal: “After desegregation ended, the media paid attention to the decreasing spots available at the city’s top schools for Black and Latino students. In 2018, though Whites were only 10 percent of the Chicago Public Schools population, they had acquired 23 percent of the premium spots at the top city schools”7. This statistic underscores the enduring structural and systemic inequalities in the educational system. These inequalities show how racial privilege and access to resources favored by certain groups and disadvantaged others. Segregation has taken new ways, through economic and residential patterns rather than laws. This highlights the policy limitations, and brings out the need for more social, economic, and institutional change to achieve the goal of educational equality.

Segregation not only restricted access to academic resources but also had broader psychological consequences. By systematically limiting opportunities and reinforcing racial hierarchies, segregated schooling contributed to feelings of marginalization and diminished trust in public institutions. The experience of navigating a segregated school system often left Black students negotiating between a sense of pride in their communities and the constraints imposed by discriminatory policies. The lasting effects of these psychological scars were there long after segregation ended. The pain from decades of separation made it hard for many black families to believe in change that brought equality. Segregation was not an organized injustice, but also an emotional one; shaping how generations of students understood their worth, and connection to a system that let them down before.

The structural and social consequences of segregation were deeply intertwined. Overcrowded and underfunded schools have diminished educational outcomes, which in turn limit economic and social mobility. Social and psychological barriers reinforced these disparities, creating a cycle that affected multiple generations. Yet the activism, legal challenges, and community efforts described earlier demonstrate that Black families actively resisted these constraints, fighting for opportunities and equality. Their fight not only challenged the system’s injustice, but also laid a foundation for more civil rights reforms, and influencing future movements.

By examining Chicago’s segregation in the context of broader northern and national trends, it becomes clear that local policies and governance played an outsized role in shaping Black students’ experiences. While southern segregation was often codified in law, northern segregation relied on policy, zoning, and administrative practices to achieve similar results. The long-term impact on Chicago’s Black communities reflects the consequences of these forms of institutionalized racism, emphasizing the importance of both historical understanding and ongoing policy reform.

Chicago’s school segregation was not accidental or demographic, it was a product of housing, political and administrative decisions designed to preserve racial separation. The city’s leaders made a system that mirrored the thinking behind Jim Crow Laws and its legal framework, making northern segregation more challenging to see. Through policies made in bureaucratic language, Chicago Public Schools and city officials made sure that children got unequal education for decades.

The legacy of Chicago’s segregation exposes the character of educational inequality. Although activists, parents, and students fought to expose the challenges and the discrimination they created in the mid-twentieth century to continue to shape educational output today. Understanding the intentional design behind Chicago’s segregation is essential to understanding the persistence racial inequalities that defines American schooling. It is also a call to action reformers today to confront the historical and structural forces that have made these disparities. The fight for equitable education is not just about addressing the present-day inequalities but also dismantling the policies and systems that were built with the purpose of maintaining racial separation. The struggle for equality in education remains unfinished, and by acknowledging the choices that lead to the situation can be broken down by structures that continue to limit opportunities for future generations.

Evening Star. (Washington, DC), Oct. 23, 1963. https://www.loc.gov/item/sn83045462/1963-10-23/ed-1/.

Evening Star. (Washington, DC), Oct. 22, 1963. https://www.loc.gov/item/sn83045462/1963-10-22/ed-1/.

Evening Star. (Washington, DC), Sep. 8, 1962. https://www.loc.gov/item/sn83045462/1962-09-08/ed-1/.

Naacp Legal Defense and Educational Fund. NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund Records: Subject File, -1968; Schools; and States; Illinois; School desegregation reports, 1952 to 1956, undated. – 1956, 1952. Manuscript/Mixed Material. https://www.loc.gov/item/mss6557001591/.

The Robbins eagle. (Robbins, IL), Sep. 10, 1960. https://www.loc.gov/item/sn2008060212/1960-09-10/ed-1/.

The Key West citizen. (Key West, FL), Jul. 9, 1963. https://www.loc.gov/item/sn83016244/1963-07-09/ed-1/.

Carl, Jim. “Harold Washington and Chicago’s Schools between Civil Rights and the Decline of the New Deal Consensus, 1955-1987.” History of Education Quarterly 41, no. 3 (2001): 311–43. http://www.jstor.org/stable/369199.

Dionne Danns. 2020. Crossing Segregated Boundaries: Remembering Chicago School Desegregation. New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press. https://research.ebsco.com/linkprocessor/plink?id=a82738b5-aa61-339b-aa8a-3251c243ea76.

Danns, Dionne. “Chicago High School Students’ Movement for Quality Public Education, 1966-1971.” The Journal of African American History 88, no. 2 (2003): 138–50. https://doi.org/10.2307/3559062.

Danns, Dionne. “Northern Desegregation: A Tale of Two Cities.” History of Education Quarterly 51, no. 1 (2011): 77–104. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25799376.

Matthew F. Delmont; Why Busing Failed: Race, Media, and the National Resistance to School Desegregation

Philip T. K. Daniel. “A History of the Segregation-Discrimination Dilemma: The Chicago Experience.” Phylon (1960-) 41, no. 2 (1980): 126–36. https://doi.org/10.2307/274966.

Philip T. K. Daniel. “A History of Discrimination against Black Students in Chicago Secondary Schools.” History of Education Quarterly 20, no. 2 (1980): 147–62. https://doi.org/10.2307/367909.

Paul R. Dimond. 2005. Beyond Busing: Reflections on Urban Segregation, the Courts, and Equal Opportunity. [Pok. ed.]. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. https://research.ebsco.com/linkprocessor/plink?id=76925a4a-743d-3059-9192-179013cceb31.

Thomas J. Sugrue. Sweet Land of Liberty: The Forgotten struggle for Civil Right in the North. Random House: NY.


[1] Thomas J. Sugrue, Sweet Land of Liberty: The Forgotten Struggle for Civil Rights in the North (New York: Random House, 2008),

[2] Philip T. K. Daniel, “A History of the Segregation-Discrimination Dilemma: The Chicago Experience,” Phylon 41, no. 2 (1980): 126–36.

[3]Paul R. Dimond, Beyond Busing: Reflections on Urban Segregation, the Courts, and Equal Opportunity (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2005)

  1. [4]Dionne Danns, Crossing Segregated Boundaries: Remembering Chicago School Desegregation (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2020)

[5] Jim Carl, “Harold Washington and Chicago’s Schools between Civil Rights and the Decline of the New Deal Consensus, 1955–1987,” History of Education Quarterly 41, no. 3 (2001): 311–43.

[6] The Robbins Eagle (Robbins, IL), September 10, 1960,

[7]   The New York Times, “Fight on the Floor Ruled out,” July 27, 1960, 1.

[8] Dionne Danns, “Northern Desegregation: A Tale of Two Cities,” History of Education Quarterly 51, no. 1 (2011): 77–104.

[9] Matthew F. Delmont, Why Busing Failed: Race, Media, and the National Resistance to School Desegregation (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2016).

[10] Dionne Danns, “Chicago High School Students’ Movement for Quality Public Education, 1966–1971,” Journal of African American History 88, no. 2 (2003): 138–50.

[11] NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund, Subject File: Schools; States; Illinois; School Desegregation Reports, 1952–1956, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress,

[12] Evening Star (Washington, DC), September 8, 1962,

Camden’s Public Schools and the Making of an Urban “Lost Cause”

In modern-day America, there is perhaps no city quite as infamous as Camden, New Jersey. A relatively-small urban community situated along the banks of the Delaware River, directly across from the sprawling, densely-populated urban metropolis of Philadelphia, in any other world, Camden would likely be a niche community, familiar only to those in the immediate surrounding area. However, the story of Camden is perhaps one of the greatest instances of institutional collapse and urban failure in modern America, akin to the catastrophes that befell communities such as Detroit, Michigan and Newark, New Jersey throughout the mid-twentieth century.

Once an industrial juggernaut, housing powerful manufacturing corporations such as RCA Victory and the New York Shipbuilding Corporation, Camden was perhaps one of the urban communities most integral to the American war effort and eventual victory in the Pacific Theatre in World War II. However, in the immediate aftermath of the war, Camden experienced significant decline, its once-prosperous urban hub giving way to a landscape of disinvestment, depopulation, and despair. By the late twentieth century  – specifically the 1980s and 1990s – Camden had devolved into a community wracked by poverty, crime, and drug abuse, bearing the notorious label “Murder City, U.S.A.” – a moniker which characterized decades of systemic inequity and institutional discrimination as a fatalistic narrative, presenting Camden as a city beyond saving, destined for failure. However, Camden’s decline was neither natural nor inevitable but rather, was carefully engineered through public policy. Through a calculated and carefully-measured process of institutional segregation and racial exclusion, state and city lawmakers took advantage of Camden’s failing economy and evaporating job market to confine communities of color to deteriorating neighborhoods, effectively denying them access to the educational and economic opportunities that had been afforded to white suburbanites in the surrounding area.

This paper focuses chiefly on Camden’s educational decline and inequities, situating the former within a broader historical examination of postwar urban America. Utilizing the historiographical frameworks of Arnold Hirsch, Richard Rothstein, Thomas Sugrue, and Howard Gillette, this research seeks to interrogate and illustrate how segregation and suburbanization functioned as reinforcements of racial inequity, and how such disenfranchisement created the perfect storm of educational failure in Camden’s public school network. The work of these scholars demonstrates that Camden’s neighborhoods, communities, and schools were intentionally structured to contain, isolate, and devalue communities and children of color, and that these trends were not unintended byproducts of natural spatial migration nor economic development. Within this context, it is clear that public education in the city of Camden did not simply mirror urban segregation, but rather institutionalized it as schools became both a reflection and reproduction of the city’s racial geography, working to entrench the divisions drawn by policymakers and real estate developers into a pervasive force present in all facets of life and human existence in Camden.

In examining the influence of Camden’s segregation on public education, this study argues that the decline of the city’s school system was not merely a byproduct, but an engine of institutional urban collapse. The racialized inequitable geography of public schooling in Camden began first as a willful and intentional byproduct of institutional disenfranchisement and administrative neglect, but quickly transformed into a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure, as crumbling school buildings and curricular inequalities became manifestations of policy-driven failure, and narratives of students of color as “inferior” were internalized by children throughout the city. Media portrayals of the city’s school system and its youth, meanwhile, transformed these failures into moral statements and narratives, depicting Camden’s children and their learning communities as symbols of inevitable dysfunction rather than victims of institutional exclusion. Thus, Camden’s transformation into the so-called “Murder Capital of America” was inseparable from the exclusionary condition of the city’s public schools, as they not only bore witness to segregation, but also became its most visible proof and worked to inform fatalistic narratives of the city and moral character of its residents.

            Historians of postwar America have long since established an understanding of racial and socioeconomic as essential to the development of the modern American urban and suburban landscape, manufactured and carefully reinforced throughout the twentieth century by the nation’s political and socioeconomic elite. Foundational studies include Arnold Hirsch’s “Making the Second Ghetto: Race and Housing in Chicago” (1983) and Richard Rothstein’s 1977 text, The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America serve to reinforce such traditional understandings of postwar urban redevelopment and suburban growth, situating the latter as the direct result of institutional policy, rather than mere byproducts and results of happenstance migration patterns.[1] In The Color of Law, Rothstein explores the role of federal and state political institutions in the codification of segregation through intergenerational policies of redlining, mortgage restrictions, and exclusionary patterns in the extension of mortgage insurance to homeowners along racial lines. In particular, Rothstein focuses on the Federal Housing Administration’s creation of redlining maps, which designated majority Black and Hispanic neighborhoods as high-risk “red zones,” effectively denying residents from these communities home loans, thus intentionally erecting barriers to intergenerational wealth accumulation through homeownership in suburban communities such as Levittown, Pennsylvania.[2]

            Hirsch’s “The Making of the Second Ghetto” echoes this narrative of urban segregation as manufactured, primarily through the framework of his “second ghetto” thesis. Conducting a careful case study of Chicago through this framework, Hirsch argues that local municipalities, urban developers/planners, and the business elite of Chicago worked in tandem to enact policies of “domestic containment,” wherein public housing projects were weaponized against Black and Hispanic communities to reinforce racial segregation throughout the city. Utilizing public housing as an anchor rather than tool of mobility, Chicago’s socioeconomic and political elite effectively conspired at the institutional level with one another to confine Black Chicagoans to closely-regulated low-income communities, devaluing land and property values in these areas whilst zoning more desirable land for redevelopment and suburban growth, thereby manually raising housing and movement costs to a level that Black Americans were simply unable to afford due to the aforementioned devaluation of their own communities as well as generational barriers to wealth accumulation.[3] Chris Rasmussen’s “Creating Segregation in an Era of Integration” applies such narratives to a close investigation of New Brunswick, New Jersey, particularly in regards to educational segregation, investigating how city authorities utilized similar institutional frameworks of racial separation to confine students to segregated schools and resist integration (school zoning, prioritization of white communities and schools for development, and segregationist housing placements), working off of the existing community segregation detailed by the work of Rothstein and Hirsch. [4]

            Working in tandem with historical perspectives of segregation as integral to the development of suburban America and subsequent urban decline, historians have also identified disinvestment as a critical economic process integral to the exacerbation of urban inequality, and eventual decay. Beginning in the postwar era, specifically in the aftermath of World War II and suburban development, industrial urban communities faced significant shortages in employment in the manufacturing sectors, as corporations began to outsource their labor to overseas and suburban communities, often following the migration of white suburbanites. Robert Beauregard’s Voices of Decline: The Post-War Fate of U.S. Cities diverges from the perspectives of Hirsch and Rothstein, citing declining employment opportunities and urban disinvestment as the most important factor in the decline of urban America on a national scale. Beauregard argues that by framing the disinvestment of urban wartime industrial juggernauts such as Newark, Camden, and Detroit as an “inevitability” in the face of rapid deurbanization and the growth of suburban America, policymakers at the national and local levels portrayed urban decline as a natural process, as opposed to a deliberate conspiracy to strip employment opportunities and the accumulation of capital from urban communities of color, even before suburbanization began to occur on a large scale.[5] Thomas Sugrue’s Origins of the Urban Crisis: Race and Inequality in Postwar Detroit also adheres to this perspective, situating economic devastation in the context of the development of racially-exclusive suburban communities, thereby working to tie existing scholarship and the multiple perspectives expressed here together, crafting a comprehensive narrative of urban decline in mid-twentieth century America as recurrent in nature, a cycle of unemployment, abject poverty, and a lack of opportunity that was reinforced by public policy and social programs that in theory, were supposed to alleviate such burdens.[6]

            Ultimately, while these sources focus on differing aspects of urban decline, they all work in tandem with one another to allow for a greater, comprehensive portrait of the causes of urban decay in postwar America, throughout the twentieth century. From deindustrialization to segregation and its influence on disparities in education, these sources provide absolutely essential context for an in-depth examination of the specific case study of Camden, New Jersey both in regards to the city itself, but also its public education system. While these sources may not all cite the specific example of Camden, the themes and trends identified each ring true and featured prominently in the story of Camden throughout this period.

            However, this paper will function as a significant divergence from such pre-existing literature, positioning the failure of public education in Camden as a key factor in the city’s decline, rather than a mere byproduct. A common trend present in much of the scholarship discussed above is that educational failure is examined not as a contributing root to Camden’s decline (and certainly not an important one, when education is briefly discussed in this context), but rather as a visible, tangible marker of urban decay in the area. While this paper does not deny the fact that failures in education are certainly rooted in fundamental inequity in urban spaces and broader social failings, it instead seeks to position Camden’s failing education state as not only a result of  urban decline, but as a contributor – specifically by engaging in a discussion of how educational failure transformed narratives around Camden as a failed urban community, beyond help and destined for ruin. In doing so, this paper advances a distinct argument: that Camden’s educational collapse must be understood not merely as evidence of urban decline, but as a foundational force that actively shaped—and in many ways intensified—the narrative of Camden as a city fated for failure.

Prior to launching into an exploration of Camden’s public schooling collapse and the influence of such failures of institutional education on the city’s reputation and image, it is important to first establish a clear understanding of the context of such shortcomings.  Due to this paper’s focus specifically on the institutional failure of Camden’s public schooling system, and how such failures shaped perceptions around the city as an urban lost cause, this section will focus primarily on rising rates of racial segregation in the mid-twentieth century, both within city limits and beyond, specifically in regards to Camden County’s sprawling network of suburban communities. While the factors of deindustrialization, economic failure, and governmental neglect absolutely do factor into the creation of an urban environment situated against educational success, racial segregation was chiefly responsible for the extreme disparities found in educational outcomes through the greater Camden region, and is most relevant to this paper’s discussion of racialized narratives of inevitable urban failure that proved to be so pervasive on a national scale regarding Camden, both within the mid-to-late twentieth century and into the present day.

Such trends date back to massive demographic transitions of the pre–World War II era was the Great Migration – the mass movement of Black Americans to northern industrial cities. Drawn by the promise of stable employment and the prospect of greater freedom and equality than was available in the Jim Crow South, millions of migrants relocated to urban centers along the Northeastern seaboard. Camden, New Jersey, was among these destinations, attracting a growing Black population throughout the early twentieth century due to its concentration of manufacturing giants such as RCA Victor, the New York Shipbuilding Corporation, and Campbell’s Soup.[7] With the outbreak of war in Europe in 1939—and especially following the United States’ entry into World War II after Pearl Harbor—industrial production in Camden surged. The city soon emerged as a vital hub of wartime manufacturing and domestic production, cementing its status as a key center of American industrial might.

As a direct result of its industrial growth and expanding wartime economy, Camden continued to attract both Black Americans and new immigrant populations, many of whom were of Latino descent. Among these groups were large numbers of Stateside Puerto Ricans, continuing a trend of immigration dating back to the 1917 extension of U.S. citizenship to Puerto Ricans.[8] Motivated by many of the same factors as Black migrants—chiefly the pursuit of steady employment and improved living conditions—these communities helped shape Camden into a diverse and vibrant urban center. The city’s population of color expanded rapidly during this period, its growth driven by wartime prosperity and the allure of industrial opportunity.

Following American victory in the Pacific and the end of World War II, Camden continued to experience rapid economic growth, although tensions arose between the city’s residents during this period along racial-ethnic lines. With the common American enemy of Japan and the Nazis firmly removed from the picture, hostilities began to turn inwards, and racial tensions skyrocketed, especially in the dawn of the Civil Rights Movement. As historian Chriss Rasmussen writes in “Creating Segregation in the Era of Integration: School Consolidation and Local Control in New Brunswick, New Jersey, 1965-1976”, “While Brown and the ensuing civil rights movement pointed toward racial integration, suburbanization forestalled racial equality by creating and reinforcing de facto segregation. As many whites moved to the suburbs, blacks and Latinos remained concentrated in New Jersey’s cities.”[9] Thus, as Black Americans increasingly emerged victorious in the fight against racial injustice and began to accumulate more and more rights and legal protections, city-dwelling white Americans grew increasingly fearful and resentful, spurring a mass exodus from urban population centers – including Camden. Drawn by federally backed mortgages, the expansion of highways, and racially exclusive housing policies,[10] white residents moved to neighboring suburbs such as Cherry Hill, Haddonfield, and Pennsauken, while structural barriers effectively excluded Black and Latino residents from the same opportunities. Leaving for the suburbs in droves, white residents fled from Camden, taking significant wealth and capital, as well as major business with them, thus weakening the city’s financial base and leaving workers—particularly people of color—vulnerable to unemployment.[11]

Public and private institutions increasingly withdrew resources from neighborhoods perceived as declining or racially changing and banks engaged in redlining, denying mortgages and loans to residents in nonwhite neighborhoods, while city budgets prioritized the needs of more affluent suburban constituencies over struggling urban areas.[12] Businesses and developers often chose to invest in suburban communities where white families were relocating, rather than in Camden itself, creating a feedback loop of declining property values, eroding tax revenue, and worsening public services. As historian Robert Beauregard writes in Voices of Decline: The Postwar Fate of U.S. Cities, “…while white middle-class and young working-class households had resettled in suburban areas, elderly and minority and other low-income households remained in the central cities. This increased the demand for basic public services (e.g. education) while leaving city governments with taxpayers having lower earnings and less property to tax.”[13] Thus, Camden residents left behind within the confines of the city became increasingly dependent on social welfare programs, which local and state governments began to fund less and less. This combination of economic retrenchment, racialized perceptions of neighborhood “desirability,” and policy-driven neglect fueled a cycle of disinvestment that disproportionately affected communities of color, leaving the city structurally disadvantaged.[14]

Concerns about racial integration in neighborhoods and schools also motivated many families to leave, as they sought communities aligned with their social and economic preferences. Such demographic change was rapid, and by 1950 approximately 23.8 percent of Camden City’s population was nonwhite.[15] While that figure may not seem extreme to the modern American, an individual likely familiar with diverse communities and perspectives, it is particularly shocking when placed in the context of Camden’s surrounding suburbs: by 1950, the nonwhite population of Pennsauken was a mere 4.5 percent,  2.1 percent in Haddonfield, and an even lower 1.9 percent in Cherry Hill.[16] These figures in particular serve as an exemplary demonstration as to the cyclical nature of segregation in the educational sector within the state of New Jersey, contextualizing twentieth century segregation not as a unique occurrence, but rather a continuation of historical patterns. In the nineteenth century, the majority of the state’s schools were segregated along racial lines, and in 1863, New Jersey’s state government directly sanctioned the segregation of public school districts statewide. While such decisions would ultimately be reversed in 1881, active opposition to integration remained into the twentieth century, particularly within elementary and middle school education. For example, a 1954 study found that New Jersey schools, both historically and actively, “…had more in common with states below than above…” the Mason-Dixon line. Most notably however, by 1940, the state had more segregated schools than at any period prior to the passing of explicit anti-segregation legislation in 1881.[17] Thus, it is evident that the state of Camden’s schools in the mid-twentieth century is not an isolated incident, but rather indicative of the cyclical nature of racial separation and disenfranchisement throughout the state of New Jersey in an educational context.

These demographic and economic shifts had profound implications for Camden’s schools, which now served largely Black and Latino student populations. In particular, Blaustein’s work proves particularly valuable in demonstrating the catastrophic impacts of white flight on Camden’s schools, as well as the irreversible harm inflicted on students of color as a result of institutional failures in education. Writing in a 1963 report to then-President John F. Kennedy’s – a cautious supporter of the Civil Rights Movement – Civil Rights Commission, notable civil rights lawyer Albert P. Blaustein establishes a clear portrait of the declining state of Camden’s public schooling system, as well as the everyday issues facing students and educators alike in the classroom. In delivering a scathing report on neighborhood segregation within the city in Camden, as demonstrated by demographic data regarding the race/ethnicity of students enrolled in public education across the Camden metropolitan area, Blaustein writes:

Northeast of Cooper River is the area known as East Camden, an area with a very small Negro population. For the river has served as a barrier against intracity population…Two of the four junior high schools are located here: Davis, which is 4.0 percent Negro and Veterans Memorial which is 0.2 percent Negro. Also located in East Camden are six elementary schools, four of which are all-white and the other two of which have Negro percentages of 1.3 percent and 19.7 percent…Central Camden, on the other hand, is largely Negro. Thus, the high percentage of Negroes in Powell (100.0 percent), Sumner (99.8 percent), Fetters (91.6 percent), Liberty (91.2 percent), and Whittier (99.1 percent), etc.[18]

Based on the data provided here by Blaustein, it is simply impossible to argue that racial segregation did not occur in Camden. Additionally, it becomes quite clear that while much discussion regarding Camden public schools and wide demographic changes in the city as a whole focuses on the movement of white residents to suburban areas, racial segregation and stratification absolutely did occur within the city, thus worsening educational opportunities and learning outcomes for Camden’s students of color even more.

            However, Blaustein does not end his discussion with segregation amongst student bodies, but rather extends his research even further to a close examination of racial/ethnic compositions of school leadership, including teachers, administrators, and school board members, yielding similar results. For example, according to his work, the Fetters School, possessing a student body of 91.6 percent Black students employed nine white teachers and nine Black teachers in 1960, but two white teachers and sixteen Black teachers in 1963. Even more shockingly, Central School, composed of 72.9 percent Black students, employed only white teachers in 1955. By 1963, just nine years later, this number had completely reversed and the school employed all Black educators.[19] Thus, Blaustein’s investigation of variances in Camden public schools’ racial composition reveal that this issue was not simply limited to education nor exclusionary zoning practices, but was rather an insidious demographic trend which had infested all areas of life in Camden, both within education and outside of classrooms. In ensuring that Black students were only taught by Black teachers and white students by white teachers, education in Camden was incredibly nondiverse, eliminating opportunities for cross-racial understanding nor exposure to alternative perspectives, thereby working to keep Black and white communities completely separate not just in the facets of residence and education, but also in interaction and socialization.

            With the existence of racial segregation both within Camden as well as the city’s surrounding area clearly established, we can now move to an exploration of inequalities in public education within the city. Perhaps one of the most visible and apparent markers of inequalities in public education in Camden can be found in school facilities and buildings. The physical conditions in which children of color were schooled were grossly and completely outdated, especially in comparison to the facilities provided to white children, both inside and outside of the city of Camden. For example, as of 1963, there were six specific public schools that had been cited as in dire need of replacement and/or renovation by Camden’s local legislative board, the vast majority of which were located in segregated communities: Liberty School (1856, 91.2% Black student population), Cooper School (1874, 30.7% Black student population), Fetters School (1875, 91.6% Black student population), Central School (1877, 72.9% Black student population), Read School (1887, 32.0% Black student population), and finally, Bergen School (1891, 45.6% Black student population).[20] Of the schools cited above, approximately half of the buildings that had been deemed by the city of Camden as unfit for usage and nonconducive to education were occupied by majority-Black student populations (Liberty, Fetters, and Central), whereas Bergen School was split just short of evenly between Black and white low-income students.

Additionally, it is important to acknowledge that these figures only account for the absolute worst of Camden’s schools, such trends in inadequate school buildings and facilities occurred throughout the city, in accordance with the general quality of infrastructure and housing present in each neighborhood they were located. In other words, while the data above only references a very small sample size of Camden’s schools, the trends reflected here (specifically, in the intentional zoning of Black students to old, run-down schooling facilities) serve as a microcosm of Camden’s public schools, wherein students of color were intentionally confined to older schools and run-down facilities.

  Education researcher Jonathan Kozol expands on the condition of school facilities in Camden’s disenfranchised communities in his widely-influential book, Savage Inequalities. Written in 1991, Kozol’s work serves as a continuation of Blaustein’s discussion on the failing infrastructure of public education in Camden, providing an updated portrait into the classrooms serving the city’s poorest communities. Kozol pulls no punches in a truly visceral recollection of his visit to Pyne Point Middle School, writing:

…inside, in battered, broken-down, crowded rooms, teem the youth of Camden, with dysfunctional fire alarms, outmoded books and equipment, no sports supplies, demoralized teachers, and the everpresent worry that a child is going to enter the school building armed.[21]

Ultimately, it is inarguable that the physical quality of public schools and educational facilities in Camden was incredibly unequal, reflecting broader residential trends. Where poor, minority-majority neighborhoods experienced a degradation of property values and lived in dilapidated areas of the cities as a direct result of redlining and other racist housing policies, so too were children of color in Camden zoned into old, crumbling school buildings that by this time, barely remained standing, effectively stripping them of the same educational resources and physical comforts provided to white students both in the city and its neighboring suburbs.

            Such inequalities were also present in records of student achievement and morale. Educated in barely-standing school buildings overseen by cash-strapped school districts, students of color in Camden’s poor communities were not afforded nearly the same learning opportunities nor educational resources as white students in the area. In Camden and Environs, Blaustein cites Camden superintendent Dr. Anthony R. Catrambone’s perspective on inequalities in education, writing, “…pupils from Sumner Elementary School (99.8 percent Negro) who transfer to Bonsall Elementary School (50.3 percent Negro) ‘feel unwanted, and that they are having educational problems not experienced by the Negroes who have all their elementary training at Bonsall’ [Catrambone’s words].”[22]

            Thus, it is evident that inequalities in schooling facilities and instruction not only resulted in a considerable achievement gap between students in segregated and integrated communities, but also that such inequalities were clear and demonstrable, even to students themselves at the elementary level. Catrambone’s observation that students from Sumner felt “unwanted” and viewed themselves as struggling, suggests that students in Camden’s segregated neighborhoods internalized the city’s structural inequality, viewing themselves as lesser than their white/integrated peers both in intellectual capacity and personal character. Such perspectives, reinforced by the constant presence of systemic discrimination along racial lines as well as crumbling school facilities and housing units, became deeply entrenched in minds and hearts of Camden’s youth, thereby creating trends of educational failure that were cyclical in nature, reinforced both externally by social structures and institutions as well as internally within segregated communities of color.

            Similarly, dysfunction soon became synonymous with segregated schools and low-income communities of color at the institutional level. School administrators and Boards of Education began to expect failure of students of color, stripping away any opportunity for such schools to prove otherwise. For example, Camden’s school leadership often designated rigorous curriculums and college-preparatory courses to majority-white schools, neglecting to extend the same opportunities to minority-majority districts. For example, in reporting on administrative conversations on the potential integration of Camden High School in 1963, Blaustein observes:

The maintenance of comprehensive academic tracks was recognized by administration as dependent on white students, implying students of color alone were not expected to sustain them: ‘if these pupils [white college preparatory students from the Cramer area] were transferred to Woodrow Wilson [a majority-Black high school located in the Stockton neighborhood], Camden High would be almost entirely a school for business instruction and training in industrial arts.[23]

It is vital to first provide context as to Blaustein’s usage of the terms “business instruction” and “industrial arts.” In utilizing these terms, Blaustein refers primarily to what is referred to as “vocational education” in modern-day America. With this crucial context firmly established, it becomes evident that public educators in early-1960s Camden viewed college education as a racially-exclusive opportunity, to be extended only to white students.

Such attitudes were reflected in the curricular rigor present in Camden’s minority-majority schools which were, to say the least, held to an extremely low standard. The lessons designed for children of color were incredibly simple and non-complex, as schools were treated less as institutions of learning and self-improvement, but rather as detention centers for the city’s disenfranchised youth. As Camden native and historian David Bain writes in the piece Camden Bound, “History surrounds the children of Camden, but they do learn a lot of it in school…Whitman is not read by students in the basic skills curriculum. Few students that I met in Camden High, indeed, had never heard of him.”[24] As such, Black and Hispanic students were effectively set up for failure as compared to white students, viewed as predestined to either not graduate from their primary schooling or to enter lower-paying careers and vocational fields rather than pursue higher education, and opportunities that college afforded students, particularly during this period where college degrees were significantly rarer and highly-valued than in the modern day.

            Thus, it is evident that throughout the mid-twentieth century Camden’s public school system routinely failed Black and Hispanic students. From inequalities in school facilities and curriculum, Camden’s public school system repeatedly communicated to students in segregated areas that they simply were not worth the time and resources afforded to white students, nor possessed the same intellectual capacity as suburban children. Denied quality schools and viewed as predestined high school drop-outs, Camden’s public schools never truly invested in their children, creating an atmosphere of perpetual administrative negligence in improving schools and learning outcomes for the city’s disadvantaged youth. As Blaustein so aptly writes, “‘…the school authorities are against changing the status quo. They want to avoid headaches. They act only when pressures are applied’”.[25]

It is clear that such drastic disparities in learning outcomes arose not only out of administrative negligence, but also as a direct result of segregation within the city. While no law affirming segregation was ever passed in New Jersey, it is clear that schools in Camden were completely and unequivocally segregated, and that a hierarchical structure clearly existed in regards to determining which schools and student populations were most supported and prepared for success. Time and time again, educators favored white students and white schools, kicking students of color and their schooling communities to the curb. It is against this backdrop of negligence and resignation that wider narratives around the city of Camden and its youth as “lost causes” beyond any and all help began to emerge.

By the late twentieth century (specifically the 1980s and 1990s), narratives around Camden as a drug and crime-infested urban wasteland began to propagate, rising to a national scale in the wake of increasing gang activity and rapidly-rising crime rates in the area. While public focus centered on the city’s criminal justice department and woefully-inept political system, reporting on the state of Camden’s public schools served to reinforce perceptions of the city as destined for failure and beyond saving, chiefly through local press’ demonization of Camden’s youth. For example, the Courier Post article “Battle being waged to keep youths from crime”, reads, “‘Girls are being raped in schools, drugs are proliferating, alcohol is proliferating, and instead of dealing with it, some parents and administrators are in denial…they insist it’s not happening in their backyard’”.[26] The manner in this author speaks of public schooling in Camden reads as though the city’s schools and places of education were not learning communities, but rather prisons – the students inhabiting these spaces not children, but prisoners, destined to be nothing more than a “thug”.

  Ignoring the city’s long history with racial segregation and redlining, which as established earlier in this paper, clearly resulted not only in disparities in learning outcomes but also caused a deep internalization of institutional failure within many students of color and their learning communities, articles such as this neglect the willingness to truly explore the roots of crime and poverty in Camden, focusing instead on the result of decades of institutional neglect of communities of color, rather than the root cause of these issues. In doing so, media coverage of such failures in Camden removed the burden of responsibility from the city lawmakers and school administrators responsible for abject poverty and educational disparities, instead putting the onus on the communities which were intentionally and perpetually disenfranchised at the institutional level across all aspects of Camden’s sociopolitical network.

Additionally, this article’s veiled assertion of Camden parents as disinterested and uninvested in their children’s success is especially gross and inaccurate. The fact of the matter is that parents and local communities within even the most impoverished and crime-ridden neighborhoods of Camden had long-lobbied for improvements to public schooling and their communities, concerned chiefly with their children’s futures and opportunities. For example, by the late 1990s, Camden City’s charter network had experienced significant growth, much of its early success owed directly to parents and grassroots organizations devoted to improving the post-schooling opportunities of disadvantaged children. In 1997, over seventeen new charters were approved by the city of Camden, the first opening in September of that year. The LEAP Academy University Charter School was the result of years of political lobbying and relentless advocacy, of which the loudest voices came from parents and community activist groups. Spearheaded by Rutgers University-Camden professor and city native, Gloria Bonilla-Santiago, the LEAP Academy included specific parent action committees, community outreach boards, and sponsored numerous community service events.[27] Thus, this inclusion of virtually one of the only groups truly invested in children of color’s success in Camden alongside the group which repeatedly conspired to confine them to crumbling schools and prepare them only for low-paying occupations is wildly inaccurate and offensive in a historical context, thereby demonstrating how media narratives around Camden and its school system repeatedly disregarded factually-correct reporting, in favor of sensationalized reports on Camden’s struggles, framing schools and city youth as ground zero and progenitors of the wider issues facing the city as a whole.

While community activism was absolutely present across Camden, it is also important to highlight the damaging impact of such negative narratives surrounding the city on its residents. In his book Camden Bound, a literary exploration of the history of Camden and its community, Camden-born historian David Bain highlights the internalization of damaging, sensationalized descriptions of Camden. He writes:

For most of my life, my birthplace, the city of Camden, has been a point of irony, worth a wince and often hasty explanation that though I was born in Camden, we didn’t actually ever live in Camden, but in a succession of pleasant South Jersey suburban towns…As I moved through life…I would write out the name Camden (I’m ashamed to name my shame now) with a shudder.[28]

While Bain’s Camden Bound does relate specifically to his own individual experience and struggle with the acknowledgement of his birthplace in the wake of national infamy, he spends perhaps even more time exploring the current state of the city, as well as the perspectives of current Camden residents. In recounts his most recent visit to Camden, Bain describes nothing short of absolute devastation and complete social blight and urban decay, writing:

Too many newspaper headlines crowd my brain – “Camden Hopes for Release From Its Pain”; “In Struggles of the City, Children Are Casualties”; “Camden Forces Its Suburbs To Ask, What If a City Dies?”; “A Once Vital, Cohesive Community is Slowly, but Not Inevitably, Dying.” And that devastating question from Time: “Who Could Live Here?”…It has been called the poorest city in New Jersey, and some have wondered if it is the poorest in the nation. Adult men and women stand or sit in front of their shabby two- story brick houses, stunned by purposelessness. In abandoned buildings, drug dealers and their customers congregate. On littered sidewalks, children negotiate through broken glass, condoms, and spent hypodermics.[29]

Judging from Bain’s simple description of the sights that he witnessed while driving through Camden, it is evident that Camden’s residents have been burned out by the widely-circulating narratives of the city and its national infamy. The vast majority of residents poverty-stricken and lacking the financial or social capital to create meaningful change for their communities themselves, such headlines and narratives of the city were nothing short of absolutely devastating. Such soul-crushing portrayals signal yet another air of perpetual negligence and resignation by powerful voices, within the media, local politics, and even national government, thus demonstrating a national perception of Camden as “failed”, and were thus internalized by Camden’s residents.

For example, in interviewing Rene Huggins, a community activist and director of the Camden Cultural Center, Bain chiefly relays her frustration with recent state legislation upon the assumption of office by Republican governor Christine Todd Whitman and recent rollbacks of welfare programs, occupational training, and educational funding that had been promised to the city. Speaking on the increasing hopelessness of many city residents, Huggins states, “And on top of all that…we get that headline in Time magazine – ’Who Could Live Here?’ Why not just give us a lot of shovels and bury the place?’”.[30] Such statements, alongside Bain’s experiences of Camden, thus demonstrate that as a direct result of national resignation to the state of Camden and a lack of willingness nor initiative to improve the city (and even more damaging, a removal of resources and social initiatives designed specifically to improve the state of the city), many Camden residents adopted a similar mentality of resignation and shame toward their community, choosing to simply exist with the city’s misery as opposed to creating any real, meaningful change, having been spurned and failed by various powerful sociopolitical institutions and organizations across generations, thereby reinforcing the harmful narratives that had played such a crucial role in the development of such behaviors.

The very article mentioned in ire by Ren Huggins, Kevin Fedarko’s “Who Could Live Here?”, also offers insight into public perceptions of Camden and more specifically, its youth, during the late twentieth-century. Written in 1992, Fedarko postures the city of Camden as a barren wasteland and its inhabitants – predominantly young people and children – as akin to nothing more than prisoners and criminals. For example, Fedarko writes:

The story of Camden is the story of boys who blind stray dogs after school, who come to Sunday Mass looking for cookies because they are hungry, who arm themselves with guns, knives and — this winter’s fad at $400 each — hand grenades. It is the story of girls who dream of becoming hairdressers but wind up as whores, who get pregnant at 14 only to bury their infants.[31]

Fedarko’s description of Camden’s children is extraordinarily problematic, in that it not only treats the city’s youth as a monolithic group, but then proceeds to demonize them en masse. In describing the city’s young people as baselessly sadistic and violent, while neglecting to position rising youth crime rates in the context of historical disenfranchisement nor take a moment and pause to acknowledge that this is not the case for all of the city’s young people, Fedarko’s work only furthers narratives of Camden and its young people as lawless and destined for jail cells rather than degrees. In particular, Fedarko’s description of Camden’s young women as “whores” is especially gross, considering the fact that the people of whom Fedarko speaks are children, thereby applying unnecessary derogatory labels to young women (largely women of color), while failing to acknowledge the true tragedy of Camden and the conditions to which young people are subjected to. In describing the situation of a teenager involved in gang activity, Fedarko also employs similarly disrespectful and dehumanizing language, writing:

…drug posses …use children to keep an eye out for vice- squad police and to ferry drugs across town. Says “Minute Mouse,” a 15- year-old dealer: “I love my boys more than my own family.” Little wonder. With a father in jail and a mother who abandoned him, the Mouse survived for a time by eating trash and dog food before turning to the drug business.[32]

Ultimately, it is evident that during the late twentieth century, specifically the eighties and nineties, narratives surrounding Camden portrayed the city as nothing more than an urban wasteland and lost cause, a sad excuse for urban existence that eschewed its history as a sprawling manufacturing juggernaut. More damaging however, were narratives surrounding the people of Camden (especially youth), who became synonymous with violence and criminal activity, rather than opportunity or potential. In short, media coverage of Camden was concerned chiefly with the concept of an urban space and people in chaos and thus, prioritized the spectacle of Camden’s failures over the historical tragedy of the city, neglecting to situation the former in the context of self-imposed de facto segregation and racialized disenfranchisement.

Ultimately, it cannot be denied that perceptions of Camden’s public education system as failing and its youth as morally debased were absolutely essential to the formulation of “lost cause” narratives regarding the city. In the popular imagination, Camden became synonymous with decay and dysfunction—a city transformed from a thriving industrial hub into what national headlines would later call “Murder City, U.S.A.” However, these narratives of inevitability in truth emerged from the city’s long history with racial segregation, economic turmoil, and administrative educational neglect. Camden’s schools were central to this development, acting as both products and producers of inequity, serving as clear symbols of the failures in public policy, which were later recast as moral shortcomings of disenfranchised communities themselves.

As demonstrated throughout this study, the structural roots of Camden’s failures in public education were grounded in segregation, manufactured by the same redlining maps and exclusionary residency policies that confined families of color to the city’s most desolate neighborhoods, which would also determine the boundaries of their children’s schools. White flight and suburban migration drained Camden of its capital and tax base, instead concentrating such resources in suburban communities whose already-existing affluence was only reinforced by federal mortgage programs and social support. Historical inquiry into urban decline and the state of urban communities in the postwar period have long since emphasized the importance of understanding urban segregation not as a natural social phenomenon, but rather an architectural inequity, extending into every aspect of civic life and education. Camden’s experience confirms this: segregation functioned not only as a physical division of space but as a moral and ideological one, creating the conditions for policymakers and the media to portray the city’s public schools as evidence of cultural pathology rather than systemic betrayal.

By the late twentieth century, these narratives had become fatalistic. Newspaper headlines depicted Camden’s classrooms as sites of chaos and its youth as violent, transforming real inequities into spectacle. The children who bore the weight of these conditions—students of color educated in crumbling buildings and underfunded programs—were cast as perpetrators of their city’s demise rather than its victims. The label “Murder Capital” distilled these complexities into a single, dehumanizing phrase, erasing the structural roots of decline in favor of a narrative that made Camden’s suffering appear inevitable. In doing so, public discourse not only misrepresented the city’s reality but also justified further disinvestment, as policymakers treated Camden’s collapse as a moral failure rather than a product of policy.

However, despite such immense challenges and incredibly damaging narratives that had become so deeply entrenched in the American national psyche regarding the city, Camden and its inhabitants persisted. Refusing to give up on their communities, Camden’s residents, many of whom lacking the influence and capital to create change alone, chose to band together and weather the storm of national infamy. From community activism to political lobbying, Camden’s communities of color demonstrated consistent self-advocacy. Viewing outside aid as perpetually-promised yet never provided, Camden’s communities pooled their resources and invested in their own communities and children, establishing vast charter networks as well as advocating for criminal justice reform and community policing efforts.

While change was slow and seemingly unattainable, Camden has experienced a significant resurgence in the past decade or so. From investment by major corporations and sports organizations (for example, the Philadelphia 76ers’ relocation of their practice facilities and front offices to the Camden Waterfront in 2016) as well as a revitalization of educational access and recruitment of teaching professionals by the Camden Education Fund, the city has slowly begun to reverse trends of decay and decline, pushing back against narratives that had deemed its failure as inevitable and inescapable. Celebrating its first homicide-free summer this year, Camden’s story is tragic, yet far from over. Rather than adhere to the story of persistent institutional failure and disenfranchisement, Camden’s residents have chosen to take charge of the narrative of their home and communities for themselves, changing it to one of perseverance, determination, and strength. In defiance of decades of segregation, disinvestment, and stigma, Camden stands not as America’s “Murder City,” but as its mirror—a testament to how injustice is built, and how, through resilience, effort, and advocacy, it can be torn down.

 “The case for charter schools,” Courier Post, March 02, 1997

Bain, David Haward. “Camden Bound.” Prairie Schooner 72, no. 3 (1998): 104–44. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40637098 

Beauregard, Robert A. Voices of Decline: The Postwar Fate of U.S. Cities. 2nd ed. New York: Routledge, 2003 http://www.123library.org/book_details/?id=112493

Blaustein, Albert P., and United States Commission on Civil Rights. Civil Rights U.S.A.: Public Schools: Cities in the North and West, 1963: Camden and Environs. Washington, DC: United States Commission on Civil Rights, 1964.

Douglas, Davison M. “The Limits of Law in Accomplishing Racial Change: School Segregation in the Pre-Brown North.” UCLA Law Review 44, no. 3 (1997): 677–744.

Fedarko, Kevin. “The Other America.” Time, January 20, 1992. https://content.time.com/time/subscriber/article/0,33009,974708-3,00.html

Gillette, Howard. Camden after the Fall: Decline and Renewal in a Post-Industrial City. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005.

Goheen, Peter G., and Arnold R. Hirsch. “Making the Second Ghetto: Race and Housing in Chicago, 1940-1960.” Labour / Le Travail 15 (1985): 234. https://doi.org/10.2307/25140590

Kozol, Jonathan. Savage Inequalities: Children in America’s Schools. New York: Broadway Books, 1991.

Rasmussen, Chris. “Creating Segregation in the Era of Integration: School Consolidation and Local Control in New Brunswick, New Jersey, 1965–1976.” History of Education Quarterly 57, no. 4 (2017): 480–514. https://www.jstor.org/stable/26846389

Rothstein, Richard. The Color of Law : A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America. First edition. New York: Liveright Publishing Corporation, a division of W.W. Norton & Company, 2017.

Sugrue, Thomas J. The Origins of the Urban Crisis: Race and Inequality in Postwar Detroit. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996.

Tantillo, Sara. “Battle being waged to keep youths from crime,” Courier Post, June 8, 1998

Yaffe, Deborah. Other People’s Children: The Battle for Justice and Equality in New Jersey’s Schools. New Brunswick, NJ: Rivergate Books, 2007. https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&scope=site&db=nlebk&db=nlabk&AN=225406


[1] Peter G. Goheen and Arnold R. Hirsch. “Making the Second Ghetto: Race and Housing in Chicago, 1940-1960.” Labour / Le Travail 15 (1985): 234.

[2] Richard Rothstein. The Color of Law : A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America. First edition. New York: Liveright Publishing Corporation, a division of W.W. Norton & Company, 2017.

[3] Peter G. Goheen and Arnold R. Hirsch. “Making the Second Ghetto: Race and Housing in Chicago, 1940-1960.” Labour / Le Travail 15 (1985): 234.

[4] Chris Rasmussen. “Creating Segregation in the Era of Integration: School Consolidation and Local Control in New Brunswick, New Jersey, 1965–1976.” History of Education Quarterly 57, no. 4 (2017): 480–514.

[5] Robert A. Beauregard. Voices of Decline: The Postwar Fate of U.S. Cities. 2nd ed. New York: Routledge, 2003.

[6] Thomas J. Sugrue. The Origins of the Urban Crisis: Race and Inequality in Postwar Detroit. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996.

[7] Howard Gillette, Camden after the Fall: Decline and Renewal in a Post-Industrial City (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005), 12–15.

[8] David Howard Bain, “Camden Bound,” Prairie Schooner 72, no. 3 (1998): 104–44.

[9] Chris Rasmussen,. “Creating Segregation in the Era of Integration: School Consolidation and Local Control in New Brunswick, New Jersey, 1965–1976.” History of Education Quarterly 57, no. 4 (2017): p.487

[10] Richard Rothstein, The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America (New York: Liveright, 2017), 70–75; Gillette, Camden after the Fall, 52–54.

[11] Gillette, Camden after the Fall, 45–50; Bain, “Camden Bound,” 110–12.

[12] Thomas J. Sugrue, The Origins of the Urban Crisis: Race and Inequality in Postwar Detroit (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996), 35–40.

[13] Beauregard, Robert A. Voices of Decline : The Postwar Fate of U.S. Cities. Second edition. New York: Routledge, 2003, 91

[14] Gillette, Camden after the Fall, 50–55; Bain, “Camden Bound,” 120.

[15]Albert P. Blaustein, Civil Rights U.S.A.: Camden and Environs, report to the U.S. Civil Rights Commission, 1963, 22.

[16] Blaustein, Civil Rights U.S.A., 23–24.

[17]Davison M. Douglas, “The Limits of Law in Accomplishing Racial Change: School Segregation in the Pre-Brown North.” UCLA Law Review 44, no. 3 (1997)

[18] Blaustein, Civil Rights U.S.A., 18.

[19] Blaustein, Civil Rights U.S.A., 18.

[20] Blaustein, Civil Rights U.S.A.,

[21] Kozol, Jonathan. Savage Inequalities : Children in America’s Schools. New York: Broadway Books, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., 1991.

[22] Blaustein, Civil Rights U.S.A., 22.

[23] Blaustein, Civil Rights U.S.A.,

[24] Bain, David Haward. “Camden Bound.” Prairie Schooner 72, no. 3 (1998): 120-121.

[25] Blaustein, Civil Rights U.S.A.,

[26] “Battle being waged to keep youths from crime,” Courier Post, June 8, 1998

[27] Sarah Tantillo, “The case for charter schools,” Courier Post, March 02, 1997

[28] Bain, Camden Bound, 108-109.

[29] Bain, Camden Bound, 111.

[30] Bain, Camden Bound, 119.

[31] Kevin Fedarko, “The Other America,” Time, January 20, 1992

[32] Ibid.

History, Now and Then: Teaching Historiography with the American History Textbook Project at Ramapo College

Rationale

One of the foremost challenges in social studies education is overcoming the danger of a single narrative. High school history classes that are structured around a textbook are particularly prone to this inhibition. History is not one set of facts — it is an argument. Relying too much on one secondary text to guide instruction fails to establish this key principle for understanding what history is, how it is done, and how it is significant to the present. The challenge of textbooks is that as tertiary sources, they vary widely in quality, and tend to offer overly simplistic narratives of the past that leave little room for debate or acknowledgement of tension over what really happened and why.

While textbooks are a necessary tool for establishing a basic set of facts for history instruction, as well as providing primary source resources and activities to support effective social studies pedagogy, they greatly undermine students’ understanding of history as a discipline with its own distinct theories and skills. It should be acknowledged that authors and publishers have generally made progress including diverse primary sources in their products, thought it has come to be widely accepted that the editorial choices made by textbook companies are often driven by politics, and
textbooks that are outdated will ultimately fail to expose students to the changing narratives of the past that are continually being written and debated. And, as with any piece of historical writing, textbook narratives are ultimately shaped by the times in which they are written.

These limitations present secondary social studies teachers with an obligation as well as an opportunity to introduce students to the theory behind how historical narratives are crafted and why history is constantly changing. How could history instruction be improved if students were exposed to different interpretations of the past and an evolution of historical narratives over time? In 2020, the authors’ utilized the American History Textbook Project (AHTP) at Ramapo College of NJ to develop and implement a lesson that introduced seventy high school juniors to the basics of historiography. Two years later, a cohort of sixteen students was invited to use the collection at Ramapo College for the purposes of developing historiographical thinking through text analysis.

While many history teachers may take issue with introducing secondary students to historiography, it is hardly a new idea or practice. Both Hoefferle (2007) and Zucker (2016) define the benefits of and
propose strategies for bringing historiography into the social studies classroom. Caroline Hoefferle realized that, while her undergraduate students knew how to analyze primary documents, they “had
never before thought critically about the histories that they read” (pg. 40). One of the chief benefits of bringing historiography into the social studies classroom, therefore, is that it both supports content acquisition as well as the development of critical thinking skills. Hoefferle writes that, upon being
introduced to historiography, many of her students “wished that they had been exposed to the course in high school. . . so that they knew beforehand how to read history and how to make sense of it all” (pg. 40). In this sense, exposing younger students to historiographical thinking compliments and reinforces the work that they regularly do with primary sources. Students are frequently asked to analyze, synthesize, and develop conclusions or arguments. This same thinking should be encouraged with textbook use.

How frequently do social studies teachers present students with the opportunity to understand that history is not just a “set of facts” but an ongoing debate? Professional scholars are continually offering new perspectives and interpretations that are in turn influenced by factors such as contemporary events or personal experiences and philosophies. History classes that are structured around a single textbook minimize the need for students to think critically, and undermine their understanding of why history is always changing. In Hoefferle’s words,

“Historiography not only enlightens students as to the inside story of the historical profession, but it also makes history more alive and interesting to them. It helps them to understand that everything is not already known and agreed upon, that there is a place for them in the profession, that in the future
they can contribute to the ongoing historical debates about the past. This takes them away from being simply passive receivers of the truth, to active pursuers of the truth” (pg. 41).

Similarly, AP US History teacher James Zucker (2016) takes issue with the current approach to teaching students history which relies primarily on primary source analysis. This often assumes that students are at the same level as professional historians and often forces them to analyze sources without proper contact. Rather, Zucker moves his students’ historical thinking beyond “fact gathering” through a multi-tier approach to teaching the American Revolution. First, students read
and analyze academic articles by prominent historians, such as T.H. Breen and Gary Nash. They find thesis statements, assess the supporting evidence, and discuss the validity of the arguments in a Socratic seminar. Only after students have come to the realization that there are multiple narratives of the American Revolution do they engage in primary source-based research for deeper historical context. Finally, the class circles back, assessing the relationship between the primary sources and the scholarly articles they first analyzed. Zucker expects his students to be able to engage with questions such as: “In what ways do these sources support or refute the arguments put forth by the likes of Breen and Nash? How do the interpretations reflect their own historical time period and point of view?” This is historical thinking at its finest.

In the words of Michael J. Swogger, D.Ed, writing for the National Council of the Social Studies blog “Pardon the Interruption!” in 2017: “Where historiography takes the study of history further is by asking the students to examine the evolution of how a particular history has been told over time. . . . . [S]tudying a historical topic through a historiographical lens helps students to better understand the elasticity of history itself” (Swogger, 2017). While it seems reasonable to believe that advanced high school students should be able and expected to do this type of work, there are those who advocate for the fostering of historiographical thinking skills among much younger students. In Teaching What Really Happened, James Loewen argues that social studies teachers can make historiography approachable for children as young as 10 years old, noting that “if they can learn supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, they can handle historiography.” In theory and practice, this may be as simple as having students critically analyze the narrative put forward in their history textbook, with an eye towards the flaws of a text: “Students find it intriguing to think about what topics textbooks handle especially badly” (Loewen, 76). While it may be common knowledge to history educators that the course textbook and supplemental materials often present a singular narrative with the aim of simplicity and consensus building, challenging students to question and challenge what their textbook delivers as the “correct” understanding of the past can be a powerful approach. The realization that not everything they read in a textbook is “agreed upon” may be one of the more empowering lessons that emerges from a social studies education. Together, we may take Loewen,
Hofferle, and Swogger, and Zucker to conclude the following:

These conclusions led us to develop a program, using the American History Textbook Project at Ramapo College of New Jersey, to introduce historiographical thinking to a cohort of high school students. Several characteristics of the American History Textbook Project make it an ideal
vehicle for such an undertaking.

The American History Textbook Project (AHTP) at Ramapo College began as a student-led project, under the supervision of an American Studies professor. Students researched materials to purchase before offering them to the college’s library as a special collection (Connor and Rice, 2012).
The majority of the collection consists of high school-level materials, but there are also some intended for elementary and middle school-age, as well as special editions for religious schools and state editions. Since 2009, the collection has grown to over 300 volumes, spanning almost 200 years (1825 to 2016); the collection continues to grow through grants and donations. In Spring 2020, when the college moved to remote operations due to COVID-19, a digital edition of the collection was created in order to meet the high demand of use while the physical collection was inaccessible
(https://libguides.ramapo.edu/digitalAHTP).

For a special collection, AHTP materials have a high level of use. At Ramapo, historiography is a key learning outcome not only in the History and American Studies programs, but also within the College’s General Education (GE) Program. As a result, undergraduates, often in their first year, who are enrolled in courses associated with this student learning outcome are exposed to historiographical
concepts, even if they are not history majors. This inclusion came as a result of a major recent revision to the GE Program that required professors develop courses that asked students to learn not only historical content (events, processes, trends, people) but also to place that learning in historical
context and to think critically about causation, connections to the present, and cultural bias. Students use the collection not as the books were intended – as tertiary sources – but rather as primary sources or artifacts to a time period. Professors found using the AHTP collection beneficial because students commented that using textbooks to understand complex historiographical concepts was more
manageable because information was presented in a less intimidating structure. In addition, professors appreciated that the textbooks covered so many topics – activism, industrialization, social issues, etc. – that using them allowed for maximum flexibility for courses.

Interest in the collection has grown outside of the College, especially among high school educators. When teachers contact the Library for a tour of collections, AHTP is often a featured discussion for
visiting groups. In the summer of 2023, a senior high school student volunteered to work with the collection and noted that working with the books, especially when seeing doodles and notes written by past students, brought a human element to his work research. Interacting with the AHTP collection allows students, even at the secondary level, to see these materials beyond static, neutral vessels of information, but as time capsules for both those who wrote the materials and those who used them. This adds an important new dimension of engagement with historical concepts.

In October, 2022, sixteen students from Ramsey High School participated in the program. The group of students consisted of five sophomores, nine juniors, and two seniors. All students had volunteered to participate and were not pre selected based upon any academic or personal criteria. Three quarters of the students had been or were currently enrolled in an honors or Advanced Placement history course. In a pre-assessment survey sent to the group, fifty percent of the students claimed that they frequently or regularly used a textbook in their history class, while more than forty percent said sometimes, rarely, or never. This was asked to gauge students’ familiarity with the components
and use of a history textbook. Among those who had utilized a history textbook recently, ten of the students indicated that they had read the book to answer specific questions or to study for a written assessment.


The session


For convenient access to the textbooks, the two-hour session was conducted in the special collections reading room of the George T. Potter Library at Ramapo College. Students were placed into groups of four based upon expressed interest in and general familiarity with one of four topics: the women’s suffrage movement, slavery and the American Civil War, U.S. immigration and immigrant groups, and the history of Native Americans during the Jacksonian Era. Students were seated with their groups at large tables. The session was run by Christina Connor, Ramapo College Assessment and Instruction Librarian and curator of the AHTP collection, and Daniel Willever, social studies teacher at Ramsey High School. To begin the session, brief introductory remarks were delivered by
Stephen Rice, Professor of American Studies at Ramapo College. Professor Rice originated the AHTP collection before it was donated to the library and taken over by Ms. Connor.

The work session was organized into four major activities followed by time for a post-assessment survey. In addition, students were given free time to interact with a small subset of textbooks that Ms. Connor selected for display due to their unique characteristics. As an activating strategy, each student was given one textbook from the collection to freely explore. During this time, many students made note of the cover art, the title, and the year of publication (which ranged as far back as the 1890s, though nearly all books were from the mid twentieth century). A few students turned to
the table of contents to see how the book was structured, and others took note of markings which indicated where the book had been used or by whom. Students were then asked to answer the question: “How does this text begin the story of American history?” The intention behind this question was twofold: first, for students to orient themselves to how the narrative of American
history was going to be told in the book they selected; second, for them to notice significant differences between the four books in their group regarding how the authors chose to begin the story. Answers varied, with some books beginning with the Columbian exchange, some with the
populating of the Americas during the last ice age, and others going back to the foundations of ancient civilizations.

Students then shared out to the whole group their perspective on why the starting point of their book may have been chosen by the authors and what its significance was. They were also free to ask questions or make general observations about the textbook they had selected. Some students use their phones to look up information about the author(s) of the book.

Following this orientation, students were distributed a copy of the session handout, designed to serve as a note catcher. This one page document, an adaptation of the resource used with undergraduate students at the college, was designed with ease-of-use in mind, for students to distillate core
understandings about the text into a simple framework which could be used for later thinking. At the top, students indicated basic identifying characteristics, such as title, author, and publication date of their book.

Below this, a matrix posed four essential questions for students to think about and answer using their book:

In the second activity, students conducted topical research using their textbook. At any time during the session, students were welcome to read together or to exchange books, although they were to
primarily focus their attention on the one book they selected at the start of the activity.

Following this independent reading and writing time — about twenty minutes, in total — students came together for a group collaboration session. This time was reserved for them to converse about their observations and annotations. Within each topic group, students were to begin the process of comparing and contrasting how each textbook approached, organized, conveyed and conveyed the subject matter.

Each group received a large sheet of poster paper and markers to produce a graphic organizer which expressed how the telling of their historical topic had changed over time, as noted through comparison of the four textbooks. The two hour session concluded with the final activity, in which time was allotted for presentations to the whole cohort, with additional general discussion of key takeaways and questions.


Observations and data


During the session, students were observed to be highly engaged and in regular conversation, sharing the information they were finding both for the activity sheets as well as other observations made while analyzing the textbooks. Rarely did the instructors need to intervene without students first asking a question. It was often noticed that if students were using their phones, it was to look something up for the activity, not as a distraction from the session. For two hours students were
actively participating and did not need to be reminded to focus on the lesson and discussion.

The conversation was extraordinarily organic within each group, as students huddled looking from book to book, comparing text, and making notations. Most students provided a great deal of detail in their worksheets, citing a variety of examples for each question. When asked to provide words or phrases used to describe their topics, students took the time to quote excerpts from books, not just produce a simple vocabulary list. When describing how much space is devoted to their subject,
students often provided significant detail, describing both the specific space allocated for topics (e.g., sentences, paragraphs, pages), but also reflecting if the language used was simple as well as if the topic was discussed in passing or within the context of another topic.

Reading through comments on the last two questions (to describe what is emphasized/deemphasized and how the narrative could influence a reader), it was observed that students were making the
connection that how a narrative was framed could impact perspectives on a topic. For example, if a book praised the Jacksonian policy of Native American relocation because it led to expanding U.S. territories, yet minimized or failed to mention the struggles felt by native populations, students noted how a reader could come to believe Native Americans were treated fairly and the U.S. acted justly.

In other cases, students included knowledge from their own classroom lessons to assist in their analysis of materials. For example, a student reviewing women’s suffrage noted passages in her book that downplayed the struggle, and did not discuss how long and hard a process suffrage was for women as well as the violence experienced by many suffragettes. She also noted that her book failed to mention public opposition to women’s suffrage. Since this information was absent from her materials, it was clear she was pulling in outside information in order to discuss what aspects of suffrage were under represented. The amount of detail provided by students in their observations showcased how engaged they were with the materials and that their reflections developed from a
close reading.

In addition to individual worksheets, groups were also asked to create a timeline poster with all the books, which they would use when presenting out at the end of the session. This was an important piece to the discussion because it allowed students to see that while some topics improved in coverage over time, others surprisingly were more biased in later years. It gave the students the opportunity to consider if possible outside societal or political influences may have led to how a topic evolved over time.

One group used their poster session to make interesting observations regarding how the topic of slavery was treated in chapters on the American Civil War. Student K.H., for example, observed that in A History of the United States by William A. Mowry and Arthur May Mowry, published 1896, the issue of slavery was deemphasized as a cause of the war. His peer, student G.P. noted similar language in a 1950s textbook, which did not address the harsh treatment of enslaved people and downplayed slavery as a cause of the war. Another member of this group noted that a 1979 textbook by John Garrity went into greater detail of slavery as an economic and social institution with severely harmful consequences for enslaved people. The last member of the group, in assessing the 2005 textbook The Americans by McDougal Littell, observed that this textbook explicitly described the southern states’ desire to protect slavery as what caused the war. Four students utilized four texts spanning nearly 110 years of history to arrive at the conclusion that the narratives surrounding American slavery evolved significantly over time, were reflective of issues and events contemporary to the authors, and had a significant impact on how Americans viewed the past and present of their country. The group reflected on these observations in their timeline poster and presentation to the rest of the cohort.

The post-survey completed at the end of the session yielded interesting remarks from participants. Thirteen of 14 students who completed the exit survey said that the activity somewhat (8) or significantly (5) changed their understanding of how history is written and understood. In elaborating upon how the experience reformed their understanding of history as a discipline and how narratives of history evolve over time, students often revisited the topic of their textbook exploration. Said one
student: “While I understood that history textbooks change throughout history, I’ve
never looked at examples of this or investigated what this means. I learned about Jackson and Native Americans and the connotations and views of these events in multiple times [sic] periods, but specifically during the 1920s. During this time many people wanted to hide America’s past flaws
and promote nationalism after World War I and in case there was another war in the future.” This student demonstrated the importance of contextualizing a source as a
product of the time period in which it was published.

Another common insight shared by students was the search for objectivity and validity in historical writing. While some students saw the older textbooks as “more biased” or “misleading,” still others
wondered the degree to which they needed to think critically about the narratives in their own history textbooks: The ability for students to make connections between these historical texts and what they are being taught today was a significant development, as is exemplified in one reflection: “It was very interesting to see what was being taught to Americans based on what was going on at the time, and if this information they were getting was accurate. I wonder if the same thing is happening to the textbooks we are learning from today.” Similarly, another student commented that “Getting a
sense of what previous generations were taught was intriguing, especially when placed into historical context. Seeing how the textbooks develop into a more accurate depiction was pretty cool.” A third student sought to juxtapose their critical thinking vis a vis the textbook with the narratives of history delivered by their history teacher in class: “I have always thought that a textbook is more reliable than a teacher because teachers can be opinionated and books can’t.

After today I am left thinking If my previous thought is true. A book can have so many
biases that I have never considered.” The significant impact of the exercise was perhaps best expressed by another student: “. . .for someone who has never thought about how the telling of history has evolved this would be really eye opening.”

Conclusion

This project provided the authors with insight as to how secondary and tertiary sources, such as textbooks, may be used to expose high school students to a basic understanding of historiography.
Furthermore, such a strategy can lead to significant development of students’ historical thinking skills and their understanding of “history” as a discipline, as opposed to just a timeline of people, dates, and events. History professionals understand that history “wars” are nothing new;
conflicts over how the story of the past is told have been ongoing for some time and
will continue, because, as George Orwell rightly noted, “who controls the past controls the future.” However, the consequences of these debates and the motivations behind them are most likely
foreign to high school students. While school-age children may see media coverage over the removal of Confederate monuments or criticism over a “liberal” influence in the classroom, seeing the evolution of curricular materials may help provide insight as to why history debates are often heated.

All-in-all, it was clear that students valued the time spent working with the textbooks and many of them said they would enjoy doing so again in the future with different topics of exploration. It was
rewarding to see students use prior classroom knowledge and make connections to their current or former history courses. Seeing these observations helps underscore the point that high school-level students are capable of engaging with historiographical concepts and their reactions further highlight why it is necessary to do so. The moments of epiphany to which we bore witness during the textbook session were heartening and motivating.

Further exploration of this strategy for teaching historiography may focus on the degree to which students bring their new historiographical thinking skills back to their history classroom for use in an academic setting. Overall, it was encouraging to see that students were thoroughly engaged for
nearly two hours of work time and were observed to be consistently thinking out loud, organically collaborating, analytically reading texts, and utilizing advanced historical thinking skills. If additional endeavors to promote an understanding of historiography among pre-college learners prove to be as fulfilling and successful, the future of history is a promising one.


    Connor C. & Rice S. (2012). The American History Textbook Project: The Making of a Student-Centered Special Collection at a Public Liberal Arts College. In E. Mitchell, P.A. Seiden, & S. Taraba (Eds.), Past or Portal? Enhancing Undergraduate Learning through Special Collections and Archives (pp. 271-278). Association of College and Research Libraries.

    Hoefferle, C. (2007). Teaching Historiography to High School and Undergraduate Students. OAH Magazine of History, 21(2), 40–44. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25162115

    Loewen, J.W. (2009). Teaching What Really Happened: How to Avoid the Tyranny of Textbooks and Get Students Excited About Doing History (Multicultural Education Series edition). Teachers College Press.

    Swogger, M. (2017, March 29). Embracing Historiography in the Classroom. Pardon the Interruption! from the National Council of the Social Studies. http://connected.socialstudies.org/blogs/michael-swogger/2017/03/29/embracinghistoriography-in-the-classroom.

    Zucker J. (2016, January 13). Teaching Historiography to High School Students. Process: a blog for American history. https://www.processhistory.org/jameszucker-teaching-historiography-in-highschool/.

    United States Foreign Policy History and Resource Guide

    The Vietnam Memorial Wall and Women’s Memorial statue in Washington DC.

    This website is designed with three purposes in mind. One is to provide a coherent overview of United States foreign policies, covering the nation’s wars, military interventions, and major doctrines over the course of some 250 years. While written for the general public and undergraduate students, it can be adapted for use in high schools. Each entry draws on the work of experts in the area of study, summarizing major developments, analyzing causes and contexts, and providing links to additional information and resources. 

    The second purpose is to examine great debates over U.S. foreign policies and wars, focusing especially on leaders and movements advocating peace and diplomacy. Controversy has been the hallmark of U.S. foreign policy from the War for Independence to the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq in the 21st century.

    The third purpose is to evaluate U.S. foreign policies and wars from a principled perspective, one that reflects “just war” and international humanitarian norms today. This is a history about the United States’ role in the world, but it does not define “success” and “progress” in terms of the advancement of national power and interests, even the winning of wars.

    The website was launched in October 2015 by Roger Peace.  The Historians for Peace and Democracy became a sponsor the following month, and the Peace History Society, in June 2016. Contributors include Brian D’Haeseleer, Assistant Professor of U.S. History at Lyon College; Charles Howlett, Professor of Education Emeritus at Molloy College; Jeremy Kuzmarov, managing editor for CovertAction Magazine; John Marciano, Professor Emeritus at the State University of New York at Cortland; Anne Meisenzahl, a adult education teacher;  Roger Peace, author of A Call to Conscience: The Anti-Contra War Campaign; Elizabeth Schmidt, Professor Emeritus of history at Loyola University Maryland; and Virginia Williams, director of the Peace, Justice, & Conflict Resolution Studies program at Winthrop University. 

    The website has a Chronology of U.S. Foreign Policy, 1775-2021 with links to pages with documents from the War of 1812 through the 21st century “War on Terror.”

    There is no shortage of books, articles, and websites addressing the history of United States foreign policy. There is nevertheless, within the United States, a dearth of understanding and often knowledge about the subject. This is due in part to popular nationalistic history, which tends to obscure, overwrite, and sometimes whitewash actual history. 

    The central assumption of this celebratory national history is that America “has been a unique and unrivaled force for good in the world,” as the historian Christian Appy described it. This assumption underpins the more muscular belief that the more power the U.S. acquires and wields in the world, the better. In other words, the U.S. should rightfully be the dominant military power in the world, given its benefic intentions and noble ideals. This flattering self-image is often buttressed by depictions of America’s opponents as moral pariahs – aggressors, oppressors, “enemies of freedom.” 

    Celebratory national history is deeply rooted in American culture. As may be seen in the second sentence of the war memorial below, American armed forces are typically portrayed as fighting “the forces of tyranny” and upholding the principles of liberty, dignity, and democracy.

    America’s opposition to “tyranny” has a long ideological pedigree. In the Declaration of Independence of 1776, Patriot rebels denounced the King of Great Britain for “repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States.” In fact, the British objective was to raise revenue from the colonies and curtail their smuggling. However oppressive particular acts, the British government was nonetheless the most democratic in Europe, with an elected House of Commons and established rights for Englishmen that had evolved over a 600-year period. The new American government continued to build on this democratic tradition, as did the British themselves. The idea that America represented “freedom” as opposed to “tyranny” nonetheless became an ideological fixture in the new nation, invoking a virtuous and noble national identity.

    In its second 100 years of existence, the United States became a world power, joining the ranks of Old World empires such as Great Britain. As the U.S. prepared to militarily intervene in Cuba and the Philippines in 1898, President William McKinley declared, “We intervene not for conquest. We intervene for humanity’s sake” and to “earn the praises of every lover of freedom the world over.” Most lovers of freedom, however, denounced subsequent U.S. actions. The U.S. turned Cuba into an American “protectorate,” and the Philippines into an American colony. Rather than fighting to uphold freedom, the U.S. fought to suppress Filipino independence – at a cost of some 200,000 Filipino and 4,300 American lives.

    A half-century later, at the outset of the Cold War, President Harry Truman asserted that the United States must “support free peoples who are resisting attempted subjugation by armed minorities or by outside pressures.” Truman highlighted the tyranny of the Soviet Union and its alleged threat to Greece and Turkey, but he utterly ignored the more widespread tyranny of European domination over most of Asia and Africa. In the case of Vietnam, the U.S. opted to side with the oppressor, aiding French efforts to re-conquer the country. Truman’s fateful decision in 1950 led to direct U.S. involvement in Vietnam fifteen years later.

    In 1961, President John F. Kennedy famously proclaimed that the United States would “pay any price, bear any burden . . . to assure the survival and the success of liberty.” These appealing words reminded Americans of their mythic moral identity, but they hardly guided U.S. foreign policy. During the long Cold War (1946-91), the U.S. provided military and economic aid to a host of dictatorial and repressive regimes, including those in Cuba (before Fidel Castro assumed power), Nicaragua, Haiti, Guatemala, El Salvador, Argentina, Ecuador, Chile, Brazil, Zaire, Somalia, South Africa, Turkey, Greece, Iran, Pakistan, Indonesia, South Korea, South Vietnam, and the Philippines. The U.S. also employed covert action to help overthrow democratically elected governments in Iran, Guatemala, and Chile. Despite propping up authoritarian governments and undermining democratic ones, U.S. leaders described their allies as the “free world.”

    In the 21st century, the rhetoric of fighting tyranny and upholding freedom has been grafted onto the “War on Terror,” declared by President George W. Bush in the wake of terrorist attacks in the U.S. on September 11, 2001. The attacks were carried out by individuals from Saudi Arabia and other friendly Arab states, but Bush directed public fears and anger toward wars against Afghanistan and Iraq. Unable to find weapons of mass destruction or ties to al Qaeda in Iraq, Bush reverted to the standard American rationale – promoting freedom. “As long as the Middle East remains a place where freedom does not flourish,” he declared on November 7, 2003, “it will remain a place of stagnation, resentment and violence ready for export.” 

    Today, the U.S. is the world’s sole “superpower,” with the largest military budget, the most sophisticated weaponry, a network of over 700 military bases worldwide, and the capability to militarily intervene in other nations at will. The latter includes the frequent use of armed drones to assassinate suspected terrorists in countries with which the U.S. is not at war. Americans on the whole do not regard this overwhelming military power as a threat to other nations or global stability. British historian Nial Ferguson has commented that the “United States is an empire in every sense but one, and that one sense is that it doesn’t recognize itself as such.” The diplomatic historian William Appleman Williams described this dominant American worldview as “imperial self-deception.” 

    The Revolt That Changed Everything: The Haitian Revolution’s Immediate Effect on the United States

    The Revolt that Changed Everything: The Haitian Revolution’s Immediate Effect on the United States

    Noah Phayre

    The year is 1804, and the New World is functioning as it had for the past thirty years since the American Revolution. After the war, a new constitution, and three presidential administrations, America had begun to find its footing as a new nation. With this, many Americans began to get used to their existence as a small democratic nation. However, whether the American people knew it or not, their world was about to drastically change. 1,888 miles south of the US, another revolution had been fought and won on the island of Saint-Domingue. The rebels, much like the US patriots, were able to cast off the yoke of a powerful European empire and establish the second democracy in the Western Hemisphere. However, this rebellion was much different than the one that occurred back in 1776. Unlike the US driving out the British and establishing a new government, the rebels of 1804 were living under much harsher oppression. These rebels were slaves who were living on Saint-Domingue under French colonial rule. In 1791, the slaves revolted against the French starting a twelve year bloodbath that would end in the abolition of slavery on the island and the establishment of the Empire of Haiti.

    The United States, though in theory should be very pleased with another democracy emerging nearby, were none too happy about this development. This mostly stemmed from the fact that the Haitian government were all freed slaves. This idea of a successful African rebellion was so foreign to the American government. The success of a slave revolt also flew in the face of the then legal practice of slavery in the United States. This caused the US to avoid recognizing Haiti as a nation until the start of the Civil War. However, despite all of this, the US was greatly affected by the Haitian Revolution as well as their early interactions with the new nation. First, the Louisiana Purchase, which was caused due to the French needing money after the war’s economic devastation on the nation. This exchange doubled the US’ size and allowed it to begin expanding as a nation, taking its first steps to becoming a world power. But even beyond the Louisiana Purchase, the Haitian Revolution and its aftermath still affected the US greatly in terms of trade, foreign policy, and thoughts on how to deal with the issue of slavery.

    Sadly, the Haitian Revolution as well as its profound impact on the United States is often not talked about when discussing how America became what it is today. It is very important that these effects be discussed and understood by a broader audience. There is a lack of awareness in terms of the connections between the Haitian Revolution and the growth of America. This proposal aims to answer the question of just how the Haitian Revolution impacted the United States in its immediate aftermath. Ultimately, through qualitative research this paper attempts to explain that the Haitian Revolution affected the United States in a way that caused it to grow into a far more powerful nation.

    Teaching this event is an undertaking, as there are many ins and outs in regards to this revolution. Educating students based on the historiographic data found in this paper can actually prove to be a superior style as opposed to an ordinary lesson. With the information gleaned from the historians that are cited in this essay, students can achieve a much deeper understanding of the Haitian Revolution as well as its impact that it had on the United States.

    Historiography

    Beyond just simply understanding the events, impact, and significance of certain episodes in history, there is a much deeper understanding one can acquire when studying certain key events. In the craft of historiography, a deeper analysis of history is made, where instead of reading for the information about a topic, the purpose is to understand how historians wrote and by extension, felt about said topic. In the case of the Haitian Revolution and its immediate effect of the United States, scholars range in their specific takes on the topic. Scholarship on the topic also has numerous areas of interest that different authors focus on. While some focus on the economic implications, others focus on the racial statements that the revolution made to the US. Other scholars fixate on the level of coverage the Haitian Revolution receives and how it reflects a larger issue with how history is written. These numerous points of focus often shed light on the historians who are behind them, as educators it is important to look past what the author is saying and think about why they are saying it.

    However, all of these scholars touch on specifics that merely scrape the surface in regards to correlation of the Haitian Revolution to the US. But what is not touched on is how these numerous aspects and results of the conflict helped jumpstart the US into becoming the powerhouse it is today. This fact is often overlooked in classrooms, hence why many teachers breeze through the Revolution during lessons or just omit it from their courses entirely. Upon deeper inspection, many sources about the Haitian Revolution fail to elaborate on just how significant the slave insurrection was when it comes to paving the way for America to expand. While many authors like to praise and critique many aspects of the Revolution’s significance they often ignore how their many points of interest come together to reveal a much grander impact on America. A plethora of sources that has been compiled helps shed light on the absence of scholarship on this matter. Moreover, this will show why further research into how the Haitian Revolution molded America is certainly necessary and lastly how more teaching on this subject is also important.

    Most scholars see the Haitian Revolution as a landmark event in terms of the fight against slavery. However, certain authors tend to lean more towards how the fight against racism was affected by the revolution. For example, Philippe Girard notes how after only two years into the Haitian Revolution, the First French Republic declared slavery an abolished practice. Girard discusses this in his piece, “Making Freedom Work: The Long Transition from Slavery to Freedom during the Haitian Revolution.” and goes on to explain how racism was talked about much more after the revolution. He backs this up by going through the long history of the fight against different forms of slavery and racism that were seen during the years during and after the revolution.[1]

    Mitch Katchun builds off of Girard’s focus on racism in his own work, “Antebellum African Americans, Public Commemoration, and the Haitian Revolution: A Problem of Historical Mythmaking.”. In Katchun’s piece, he elaborates on how the revolution had an effect on the fight against slavery and racism, but specifically in Antebellum America. Katchun complements the ideas of Girard but goes deeper when discussing how the revolution specifically started conversations about racism in enslaved African American circles. Citing the 1811 slave march in Louisiana led by Charles Deslondes, the author puts a lot of emphasis on how the events in Haiti inspired the fight against slavery to be expanded but in a more tangible way, such as another revolution.[2] This facet of the impact of the revolution is one of the most widely discussed, however it can be expanded upon in numerous ways as shown by other scholars. It must also be noted that accounts such as this are valuable for teachers. This showcases how the Haitian Revolution influenced the slaves in the southern United States and was an early seed that was planted in their minds that would eventually grow into slave revolts within the US.

    Numerous other authors chime in on the discussion of the Haitian Revolution’s impact (racially speaking) on the US. Tim Matthewson dives into this racial layer with his piece “Abraham Bishop, ‘The Rights of Black Men,’ and the American Reaction to the Haitian Revolution.”. In his writing, Matthewson discusses Abraham Bishop, an American man who wrote three pieces regarding the Haitian Revolution in the 1790s. Bishop supported the revolution and urged America as a whole to get behind the rebel’s cause. He stated how the US supported the French Revolution and also staged their very own revolution as well. With that said, Bishop argued that the US should support the similar cause in Haiti, but stated that it was due to the issue of slavery that prevented the US from doing that.[3] Unlike the previous two scholars, Matthewson uses Bishop’s writings to showcase how white people were affected by the events in Haiti and started to defend the black people in the US. Overall, this subset of scholarship on the Haitian Revolution’s impact on the US was heavily focused on race which played a large role in the narrative of the event. However, other scholars attempt to break away from the ever prominent racial aspect and focus on other areas such as economic and political effects.

    When looking at how the Haitian Revolution changed the US economically and politically, certain authors touch on a bevy of policy changes, and repercussions during and after the war. An example of this comes in the form of Robin Blackburn, a scholar who in her piece “Haiti, Slavery, and the Age of the Democratic Revolution.” touches on how the US had to begin forming its own international policies. One such policy was its refusal to recognize Haiti. This included an embargo on the new nation, despite it being a massive trading partner when under French control. This changed the US’s treatment of other nations when it came to trade as it set a precedent with Haiti that essentially states that the US will not trade with another nation and ignore what’s beneficial for itself if it does not support the government of that nation. This stems from the statement made by the success of the slave rebels.

    This is focused on by Blackburn who infuses the issue of race and slavery but adds an economic/political spin to it. She notes how the US put itself in a bizarre situation by supporting other democratic revolutions (Like the French) but not ones such as Haiti. This is due to the fact that the US would be forced to admit (in a sense) that the black slaves were capable trading partners, which flies in the face of the notion that black people were sub-human and deserved to be nothing more than slaves. And as Blackburn points out, it only became worse when Haiti survived for decades after the revolution. So the US opted to simply not recognize the island nation, something that would continue up until 1862.[4] This is interesting for educators as it can be used by teachers to explain two layers of the issue that the US was faced with during this time. The US’ problem was not just a racial one, it was an economic one as well. Author Tim Matthewson brings up how the US immediately reacted to the revolution and what he states is very telling. In his piece “George Washington’s Policy Towards the Haitian Revolution ” the author states that under the first presidential administration in the US, American merchants actually were allowed to aid the French with supplies and even men. This was in hopes to defeat the slaves, showing that the US had been willing to help squash all slave revolts in the name of maintaining the practice.[5] Matthewson uses this little known fact to highlight the idea that the US was very much a pro slavery nation, and that even before the revolution had been won, the US had already been trying to put it down.

    Another scholar adds to the discussion by way of citing the particular benefits and unintentional problems that the rebellion had on America. This scholar is Jim Thomson, author of “The Haitian Revolution and the Forging of America.”

     In his piece, Thompson adds to the discussion of the Haitian Revolution’s effect on the US by highlighting a few results of the conflict. One was how France had to sell the Louisiana Territory to the US to get money to fund Napoleon’s conquest of Europe. This important moment for the US, a moment that doubled its size was caused by the Haitian Revolution’s economic impact on France. This dent in the already fragile economy of France caused Napoleon to work with the US which resulted in the monumental Louisiana Purchase.[6]

    These particular scholars prefer to highlight why Haiti changed the United States’ political and economic status in the world. Whereas previous authors focused on race, this group, specifically Thompson who really hones in on that aspect of the relationship between Haiti and America. Blackburn is different as she focuses on the impacts politically and economically, however she infuses a bit of race into her point of study. Citing how the political relationship between the two nations was tense due to the issues of race and slavery, Blackburn connects what the previous scholars have noted about the revolution with her own part of the conversation. This blends the two areas of study together and actually shows how these different impacts (racial, political, economic) did not exist apart from each other but rather built off each other to make a much larger impact on the United States.

    The final area of study that scholars seem to focus on, is the historiography of this tense relationship between Haiti and the United States. Many scholars often go into why the revolution has not been noted as a larger event historically and why the aforementioned impacts it had on other nations (specifically the US) have often been downplayed. John E. Baur makes mention of this in his piece “International Repercussions of the Haitian Revolution.”. In it Baur states that there has never been a full scale study of the impacts of the Revolution and just rather numerous articles and pieces about certain aspects of it and its impact.[7] This gets at exactly what this proposal aims to achieve, putting those pieces together to create a full scale study on the topic of Haiti’s impact on the US. With more study into this topic, teachers can better utilize this monumental moment from history by implementing it into their curriculums.

    This historiographical aspect to the topic is unique as it explains why the topic of the revolution and its effects has not been given the recognition it deserves. Thomas Reinhardt answers this question in his piece “200 Years of Forgetting: Hushing up the Haitian Revolution.”. In his work, Reinhardt states that the authors who wrote about the revolution spoke of it in a demeaning manner. The brutality of the insurrection was what most scholars used as their rationale for why black people are barbaric and without Western guidance they will act savagely as they did back in Africa. Reinhardt notes how the success of the rebellion and establishment of the Haitian nation was completely undercut by these writers who simply wanted to discredit black people.[8] Reinhardt asserts that writings like those were why many people did not pay much attention to the Haitian Revolution and its significance.

    Adding to the idea that there was a concerted effort to diminish the importance of the Haitian Revolution is author Manuel Barcia. Barcia agrees with the ideas of Reinhardt in that white historians were made uncomfortable by the success of the uprising. In his piece “Comment: From Revolution to Recognition: Haiti’s Place in the Post-1804 Atlantic World.” Barcia particularly takes note of what the success of black people meant for the rest of the world. Barcia notes that acknowledging the fact that the Haitian rebels won and were able to run a sustainable nation would mean that one would have to acknowledge the fact that black people were just as skilled as anyone else. This of course threatened the status quo of white people dominating black people in society, which Barcia says is why it has not been touched upon by mainstream history. One interesting point made by the author is how the US in particular would trade with Haiti (covertly) but still not recognize them as a nation. This, according to Barcia, helped justify the lack of coverage writers gave Haiti as it was not recognized by the US until decades after the revolution.[9]

    The final historian being examined is Shannon Marie Peck-Bartle. In her piece “Toussaint L’Ouver-Who? An Anthropological Approach to Infusing the African Diaspora into Caribbean History.” Peck-Bartle adds to the discussion on the lack of recognition the rebellion has received. The piece pushes that the reason why the impact of Haiti has not fully been appreciated is because the Western world has spun a Eurocentric narrative of the events since 1804. This is to say that the West essentially took credit for Haiti’s success by asserting that without their European philosophies and culture, the Haitians could never have been able to successfully stage an insurrection and maintain a stable society for as long as they did. Peck-Bartle challenges this notion by pushing that rather than European culture creating the revolution, it was African culture that actually helped unite the Haitian rebels to be able to succeed.[10] This information is valuable for teachers as it offers the opportunity to look at what is being taught in schools and see how culturally imbalanced the material is. The Eurocentric nature of most classes is unfortunate but also a very real thing and topics like the Haitian Revolution and its historiography help show teachers that there is not a lot of representation for numerous cultures around the world.

    This third subsection of scholarship on the Haitian Revolution is unique as it focuses on the historiography of the event. Different scholars discuss different avenues of why this topic isn’t explored as often as it should. While people like Baur point out how there has been no full scale look into this event and its impact, people like Reinhardt and Barcia provide the reasons why. With Reinhardt asserting that the West simply went out of its way to paint the revolution in a bad light and Barcia explaining that this was because the alternative was to acknowledge the fact that black people were capable of both freeing and governing themselves. Peck-Bartle actually veers from this and states that actually the West chose to take credit for the Haitian’s success instead of outright ignoring or demonizing it. Overall, these scholars helped explain why the revolution doesn’t get as much attention and just why its impact on the US is not highlighted as often as it should.

    Conclusion

    Upon review of all ten sources it is quite clear that they all have their merits and add to the discussion about Haiti’s revolution and its impact on the US. The sources focusing on race helped explain why the US had such an awkward relationship with the new nation. Girard and Katchun particularly provided strong arguments that supported their theses. The economic/politically based scholars helped pinpoint what changes occurred in the US because of the revolution. Blackburn is the most prominent of these scholars as she mixes both the racial component previously discussed along with the political components. She successfully adds to the discussion and links two different areas of study. The final section is the historiographical section that hones in on why the impacts of the Haitian Revolution aren’t discussed as much as they should be. Again, these scholars connect the two other areas of study, the racial and economic/political by explaining why racism and Eurocentrism created a historiography that neglects the Haitian Revolution’s impact. This section seems to have the most debate over the truth behind why Haiti has been neglected. While Reinhardt and Barcia seem to agree with Peck-Bartle that race plays a major role in the downplaying of Haiti’s significance, they disagree with her when she says the West took credit for Haiti’s success and impact.

    With the exception of the historiographical section, the scholarship on Haiti and its impact on the US is rather cohesive. The scholars mostly agree with each other and some of the different subsets actually blend well with each other, creating a clearer image of what the effects the Haitian Revolution had on the US were. The biggest issue these authors have is that they do not go deeper with their claims. They state that the revolution impacted the United States and list examples of how it did so. They also explain why there hasn’t been much research done on the topic. But the scholarship lacks one major point of focus, and that is how all of these subsets come together. What this proposal attempts to explore is how the Haitian Revolution immediately affected the United States. Furthermore, upon answering that question, this proposal aims to show how this impact absolutely molded the US into the world power that it is today. By infusing the three most prominent areas of study in regards to the revolution, this proposal will expand upon what has already been stated. The large scale implications for the United States brought on because of the Haitian Revolution and its success will be uncovered and ultimately show how a seemingly insignificant slave revolt changed the trajectory of a country that would become one of the most powerful nations on Earth. 

    Educational value

    The Haitian Revolution serves as a historic reminder of the triumphs of African people. It also serves as an interesting point of study when examining its relationship with the United States. The revolution’s mere existence shed light on the US’ own issues with slavery as well as early signs of the nation’s hypocrisy. The issues of racism and slavery are interconnected to the revolution; these two topics envelop the history of the modern west and cannot be ignored. With this said, these topics can be showcased through lessons about the Haitian Revolution as well as the island nation’s relationship with the United States.

    The beauty of this topic is that it goes even deeper than that as it can also be used as a way to examine the historiography of the subject, something that is often overlooked in classes today. Examining how people have written history helps show students how people viewed a certain topic back then as well as how they view it now. These are valuable for both students and educators alike. Lastly, the study into the Haitian Revolution helps show how the US became the nation that it is today. Looking at the success of the US through the lens of the Haitian Revolution can help expand students’ understanding of the success of other people outside of the US. It can also showcase some of the inspiration for change in the US, namely the fight to end slavery. Overall, the educational value of the Haitian Revolution stretches far beyond its use as a fun and exciting historic episode. Through its links to race relations, slavery, economics and historiography, the Haitian Revolution truly makes for a great area of focus for educators who want to make their students better and more well-rounded scholars in the field of history. 

    References

    Barcia, Manuel. “Comment: From Revolution to Recognition: Haiti’s Place in the Post-1804 Atlantic World.” American Historical Review 125, no. 3 (June 2020): 899–905. doi:10.1093/ahr/rhaa240.

    Baur, John E. “International Repercussions of the Haitian Revolution.” The Americas 26, no. 4 (1970): 394–418. https://doi.org/10.2307/980183.

    Blackburn, Robin. “Haiti, Slavery, and the Age of the Democratic Revolution.” The William and Mary Quarterly 63, no. 4 (2006): 643–74. http://www.jstor.org/stable/4491574.

    Girard, Philippe. “Making Freedom Work: The Long Transition from Slavery to Freedom during the Haitian Revolution.” Slavery & Abolition 40, no. 1 (March 2019): 87–108. doi:10.1080/0144039X.2018.1452683.

    Kachun, Mitch. “Antebellum African Americans, Public Commemoration, and the Haitian Revolution: A Problem of Historical Mythmaking.” Journal of the Early Republic 26, no. 2 (2006): 249–73. http://www.jstor.org/stable/30043409.

    Matthewson, Tim. “Abraham Bishop, ‘The Rights of Black Men,’ and the American Reaction to the Haitian Revolution.” The Journal of Negro History 67, no. 2 (1982): 148–54. https://doi.org/10.2307/2717572.

    Matthewson, Timothy M. “George Washington’s Policy Toward the Haitian Revolution.” Diplomatic History 3, no. 3 (1979): 321–36. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24910116.

    Peck-Bartle, Shannon Marie. “Toussaint L’Ouver-Who? An Anthropological Approach to Infusing the African Diaspora into Caribbean History.” Social Studies 111, no. 3 (January 1, 2020): 155–62. https://search-ebscohost-com.rider.idm.oclc.org/login.aspx?direct=true&db=eric&AN=EJ1246807&site=ehost-live&scope=site.

    Reinhardt, Thomas. “200 Years of Forgetting: Hushing up the Haitian Revolution.” Journal of Black Studies 35, no. 4 (2005): 246–61. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40027220.

    Thomson, Jim. “The Haitian Revolution and the Forging of America.” History Teacher 34, no. 1 (January 1, 2000): 76–94. https://search-ebscohost-com.rider.idm.oclc.org/login.aspx?direct=true&db=eric&AN=EJ649663&site=ehost-live&scope=site.


    [1] Girard, Philippe. “Making Freedom Work: The Long Transition from Slavery to Freedom during the Haitian Revolution.” Slavery & Abolition 40, no. 1 (March 2019): 87–108.

    [2] Kachun, Mitch. “Antebellum African Americans, Public Commemoration, and the Haitian Revolution: A Problem of Historical Mythmaking.” Journal of the Early Republic 26, no. 2 (2006): 249–73.

    [3] Matthewson, Tim. “Abraham Bishop, ‘The Rights of Black Men,’ and the American Reaction to the Haitian Revolution.” The Journal of Negro History 67, no. 2 (1982): 148–54.

    [4] Blackburn, Robin. “Haiti, Slavery, and the Age of the Democratic Revolution.” The William and Mary Quarterly 63, no. 4 (2006): 643–74.

    [5] Matthewson, Timothy M. “George Washington’s Policy Toward the Haitian Revolution.” Diplomatic History 3, no. 3 (1979): 321–36.

    [6] Thomson, Jim. “The Haitian Revolution and the Forging of America.” History Teacher 34, no. 1 (January 1, 2000): 76–94.

    [7] Baur, John E. “International Repercussions of the Haitian Revolution.” The Americas 26, no. 4 (1970): 394–418.

    [8] Reinhardt, Thomas. “200 Years of Forgetting: Hushing up the Haitian Revolution.” Journal of Black Studies 35, no. 4 (2005): 246–61.

    [9] Barcia, Manuel. “Comment: From Revolution to Recognition: Haiti’s Place in the Post-1804 Atlantic World.” American Historical Review 125, no. 3 (June 2020): 899–905.

    [10] Peck-Bartle, Shannon Marie. “Toussaint L’Ouver-Who? An Anthropological Approach to Infusing the African Diaspora into Caribbean History.” Social Studies 111, no. 3 (January 1, 2020): 155–62.