Bringing Politics into the Classroom

Should teachers steer clear of current political issues in the classroom—or is it educational malpractice to act as if those issues don’t exist?

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“There is absolutely no reason that a teacher should cover contemporary politics in their class ever,” an educator and education commentator named Daniel Buck tweeted recently. (He has also written a post that goes into his position in more detail.) In response, a social studies teacher named Lauren S. Brown wrote a post on her Substack arguing that “in a government or civics class, it would be bizarre not to bring in contemporary issues.” That can also be true, she argued, in a history class.

Brown went on to catalogue some historical topics she’s taught that have had contemporary resonance—for example, when, in 1999, her class was learning about the impeachment of Andrew Johnson at the same time that President Clinton was being impeached. She also cited students’ lack of knowledge as one of the biggest obstacles to class discussion of political issues—a situation she says has only gotten worse.

While seventh and eighth graders have long asked about the meaning of words like impeach, Brown writes, they’re now asking about more basic words like Congress and economics. One girl was unfamiliar with the concept of a “capital”—as in Washington, D.C.—making it hard for her to grasp notions like “the three branches of government.”

I’d say there are several different concerns simmering in this debate—which, of course, reflects debates in society as a whole. Brown’s argument is partly grounded in the well-documented lack of knowledge among students about civics—or even the basic knowledge and vocabulary that would enable them to understand civics. If teachers don’t discuss these things in class, how will students ever acquire the knowledge they need to become informed citizens?

Buck, on the other hand, thinks teachers’ role isn’t to harp on their “political obsessions.” He also predicts that student discussions of hot-button issues are unlikely to be thoughtful or productive. If teachers stick to “history, math, literature, etc.,” he writes, “students will become far more astute in their political activity,” while a focus on contemporary politics will result in them becoming “either cynical or partisan.”

Brown responds that teachers need to challenge students’ assumptions and introduce them to opposing points of view, as she does in her classroom. I say kudos to her. But I also feel there’s a lot more to say about this issue. Students are curious about politics, or at least they should be. And many are unlikely to understand this important aspect of the world they live in unless teachers help them do it, in age-appropriate and even-handed ways that don’t just lead to cynicism or partisanship. That’s not always easy.

The Knowledge Piece—and History

Let’s start with what Brown calls “the knowledge piece.” I agree with Brown that a big part of the problem is that we waste golden opportunities to introduce young children to the knowledge essential to understanding politics and government. That’s partly because we spend way too much time in elementary school having students practice largely meaningless reading comprehension skills, and partly because we assume young children can’t or won’t learn about history.

Brown suggests teaching kindergarteners about governance through a class trip to the school’s main office. That might be nice, but why not also teach children about, say, the beginnings of democracy in Ancient Greece?

Back in the fall of 2016—another fraught election season—I sat in on a second grade class that was, atypically, learning about that topic. The class voted for a Greek god to be their hypothetical class president. When Athena won a narrow victory over Poseidon, the Poseidon supporters groaned loudly.

The teacher alluded to the ongoing election only by asking kids if they knew who the two main presidential candidates were (they did). Then she told them that this is how things work in a democracy—one of that day’s vocabulary words. Some people are happy with the outcome and others aren’t, but the important thing is that everyone has a chance to make their voice heard.

History, Civics, and Civil Disagreement

History is, in my view, the most effective way to teach civics. The human brain is hard-wired to take in knowledge more easily through narratives, and history provides the narrative that makes civics knowledge meaningful and therefore “sticky.” If you understand why the founders decided to create three branches of government, you’re more likely to remember what those branches are and how they function (or at least, how they’re supposed to function).

History is also a great way to introduce students to the skill of disagreeing civilly—a skill that is essential to a functioning democracy and one that too few of us seem to be acquiring. It can be hard to foster that skill in the context of issues about which students already have strong opinions, especially a week or so before a highly polarizing election. Issues from the past can provide an easier training ground.

History can also help students develop the ability to understand points of view they find alien. If they can learn to understand the thinking that led to the Salem Witch Trials, for example, that could carry over into a willingness to listen to those who disagree with them about issues like guns or immigration.

At the same time, it’s obvious that historical topics can be hot-button too. Concerns that teachers are engaging in political indoctrination, especially on topics in American history, have spurred “anti-CRT” legislation from the right and the rejection of knowledge-building curricula from both the right and the left.

Many teachers have been avoiding certain texts and topics because they’re worried about violating restrictive state laws or just sparking complaints from parents or conflicts among students. A RAND study released in February found that two-thirds of K-12 teachers said they had decided to limit instruction about political and social issues in class. Just as with our failure to teach history at the elementary level, these omissions can leave students without the knowledge they need to exercise their responsibilities as citizens of a democracy—and without the ability to engage in civil disagreement.

A New Report on History Instruction

A recent report from the American Historical Association on the state of U.S. history instruction provides both reassurance and some cause for concern. Surveying over 3,000 middle and high school teachers, interviewing over 200 teachers and administrators, and closely examining nine states chosen to reflect the country’s political diversity, the report found that it’s rare for teachers to get political pushback on their instruction. It also found that the overwhelming majority say they strive to teach in an even-handed way that brings in multiple points of view. (Of course, literature as well as history has been a political battleground—and reports suggest that college English departments have become bastions of groupthink. But I’ll focus on history here—and I can only skim the surface of the AHA report, which is full of fascinating detail.)

These findings have been celebrated by some, including an education historian who was moved to admit that he might have exaggerated the nation’s school culture wars. But a deeper dive into the report provides a more nuanced and less rosy picture.

Even if teachers hadn’t been targets of complaints themselves, many were keenly aware of others who had been, which led some to censor themselves. While some had “intimate knowledge” of state and local restrictions, others were “confused about whether their state had banned anything and hesitant about topics that they were in fact perfectly free to teach.”

And while few if any teachers said they strove to indoctrinate their students, self-reports can mask unconscious slanting. That seems particularly likely to happen in communities that are politically or culturally homogeneous. If instruction is delivered through an ideological lens that everyone agrees with, no one may complain—and teachers may not even realize they’re using a particular lens.

Here's one finding in the report that struck me: 13 percent of all teachers surveyed identified “seeing the role of God in the nation’s destiny” as one of their “learning goals.” In the three Southern states that were part of the study—Alabama, Texas, and Virginia—that percentage rose to 36 percent. That focus in a history class would probably lead to complaints in culturally progressive communities.

The same kind of thing can happen on the left. While the AHA survey didn’t find anything I would consider a left-wing counterpart to teaching about the “role of God,” I have been haunted by a comment I read years ago in an article in Education Week about state legislation prohibiting the teaching of “divisive concepts,” including that anyone is inherently racist, sexist, or oppressive by virtue of their race or sex. One Oklahoma teacher protested that teachers weren’t trying to make anyone feel guilty but only trying to teach “that the laws and systems of our country were purposefully developed to elevate white, cis males.” She added, “That is the truth.”

Just as many parents would disagree with the idea that God plays a role in the nation’s destiny, I imagine many would disagree with that teacher’s articulation of “the truth”—especially in a conservative state like Oklahoma. I doubt the teachers presenting either of these views consider these aspects of their teaching to be indoctrination, but the fact remains that many others in this country would see them that way.

It's inevitable that content and instruction will vary from one community to another, depending on local norms. And to some extent, that’s fine. It’s also fine for teachers, or students, to believe that God has played a role in the nation’s destiny, or that the nation was developed to elevate white males. The problem arises when teachers present views that are disputed by many others as though they were gospel.

That’s a problem even if no one in the immediate community objects. In a democracy, we all need to care if public schools present certain ideas as “the truth” when many others in the country as a whole would dispute them. As Brown says in her post, even in a homogeneous community, it’s important that students get exposed to and learn to understand points of view that differ from their own.

Avoiding the Pitfalls of Controversial Topics

So: what to do? Students need to acquire knowledge of history, civics, and the possibly more sensitive areas of recent and current events. But teachers may shy away from controversial topics—or broach them in ways that unintentionally lead to classroom conflict or the reinforcement of a one-sided view of the world. (Of course, I’m sure there are many teachers who are doing an excellent job dealing with these topics; it’s just not clear, even from the AHA report, how many others need support to do so.)

There are some available resources designed to help teachers guide discussions of possibly contentious topics. The Mill Institute, for example, has a list of general questions like “Can I articulate ideas that I do not personally agree with?” and “Am I curious about how other people came to hold their beliefs?” Through its Democracy Project, the Institute also offers a free collection of resources for high school teachers on issues like free speech, abortion, and economic inequality.

Another fruitful approach could be to organize classroom debates, possibly assigning students to argue a point of view that differs from their own. Teachers can also guide students through writing assignments that call for taking “pro” or “con” positions.

Still, as I mentioned, I think it works best to begin with historical issues. A resource that would help is a good history curriculum—one that includes multiple points of view and guides teachers in leading productive, civil discussions of them. But the AHA report reveals that few teachers these days rely on a set curriculum.

They may use a textbook as a reference, but the vast majority cobble together resources from an array of online, mostly free resources. While the most heavily used sources are reputable and not overtly ideological—for example, the Library of Congress—this do-it-yourself approach carries risks. History textbooks undoubtedly have their flaws, but the report notes they often provide a more coherent, more detailed, and less controversial version of events.

My own recommendation is to adapt the Four-Question Method to whatever historical topic is being taught. As the creators of the method suggest in the title of their book, From Story to Judgment, it’s crucial to separate the agreed-upon narrative of any series of events from the opinions of students—and teachers—about those events. It’s also vital for students to gain an understanding of what historical actors themselves were thinking. By the time students reach Question Four—“What do we think about that?”—they should have sufficient understanding of the events and the ideas behind them to engage in an informed, civil discussion. Teachers should moderate that debate but not dictate its outcome.

That approach could ultimately equip students to understand and debate current political issues —and possibly to navigate conflicts in their own lives. I recently spoke with an eighth-grade U.S. history teacher in Texas, Blake Waller, who is piloting a curriculum developed by the Four Question Method organization. He told me that after introducing his students to the idea of figuring out what historical actors were thinking, he asked them to apply the concept to a hypothetical fight in the school cafeteria. They agreed it would be important to know what the combatants were thinking. They also agreed that society would be “a little bit better” if we all took the time to do that.

We ask schools to do a lot of things these days, and teachers understandably feel overstretched. But there are manageable ways to foster positive social interaction—and possibly also help ensure the continued functioning of our democracy—through instruction that builds kids’ knowledge of the world and simultaneously equips them to understand and respond thoughtfully to conflicting points of view.

10.31.24: This article has been updated to include a link to Daniel Buck’s post on the Thomas B. Fordham Institute website.