How to Think Historically
An educator cites ways to get thought-provoking books into classrooms
By Myra Zarnowski -- School Library Journal, 11/1/1999
While the field of history is alive with dialogue and debate, children often conceive of it as dead and even lacking in purpose. Anyone who has taught grade school is familiar with the wail, "Why do I have to learn this?" and its related whine, "What does this have to do with me?" These are serious questions and require equally serious answers--answers that can be found in books that embrace controversy, highlight competing narratives, and provide access to a range of compelling voices. These are books that give children an insider's view of how the discipline works--the sifting, shaping, and sorting involved in dealing with historical evidence. It's only through encounters with books awash in historical thinking that children can get a sense of the activity involved when historians weigh evidence: "...Historians seem to create inside their heads an executive board, where members clamor, shout, and debate controversial points...." This description by Samuel Wineburg in Gaea Leinhardt and Isabel Beck's Teaching and Learning in History (Lawrence Erlbaum, 1994, p. 119) explains the energy involved in historical thinking. It is not a laid-back or lackadaisical affair and that's what children need to know.
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Instead of seeking total consensus or ignoring disagreements among ourselves and our students, it is more productive to examine controversial topics critically. |
As a teacher-educator, I spend a great deal of my time selecting and evaluating literature for children, especially nonfiction. When evaluating a book, I ask myself, "Is it good?" Here I am thinking of standard criteria such as accuracy, writing style, illustration, format, and content. But, at the same time, I am also asking, "Does this book help children understand the world? How it once was, how it is right now, or how it might be?" And when I find books that I do consider excellent, I ask, "How can I get them into classrooms so that they can be discussed?" This is often not a simple process, because not all "recommended" books are welcomed with open arms by teachers.
In an April 1998 Language Arts article, "Outrageous Viewpoints: Teachers' Criteria for Rejecting Works of Children's Literature," teacher-educator Julie Wollman-Bonilla reported on the reluctance of teachers in her classes to use "texts that reflect gender, ethnic, race, or class perspectives or experiences that differed from their own" (p. 289). They are afraid that these books will frighten children, expose them to social values outside their immediate community, and/or deal with issues of racism or sexism. I have seen the same response in my classes. One teacher rejected Mary Pope Osborne's One World, Many Religions (Knopf, 1996)--a book that discusses the common and unique features of seven of the world's religions--because she was unwilling to broach the subject without the approval of her principal. The principal, in turn, felt that he needed the go-ahead of the superintendent, so the decision-making power was passed along. In the end, the book was abandoned because the teacher simply couldn't wait for the administrators to decide. Similarly, a number of teachers rejected Leon Tillage's Leon's Story (Farrar, 1997) because they didn't share the narrator's views.
Apparently, many teachers deliberately avoid books that deal with controversial issues or with viewpoints other than their own. This approach to teaching has serious implications because it deprives children of access to a broad range of historical interpretation, leaving only those books with a more complacent, unquestioned view of the world. In her article, Wollman-Bonilla calls for demonstrations we can share with teachers of how children respond favorably to "rejected" texts. In the sections below, I suggest three types of thought-provoking encounters with history books.
The first type of demonstration involves examining controversial topics. Instead of seeking total consensus or ignoring disagreements among ourselves and our students, it is more productive to examine them critically. Julius Lester's From Slave Ship to Freedom Road (Dial, 1998) provides a way to do this by using imagination exercises to get readers to think about the topic of slavery from a variety of perspectives. This method can be applied to other books and other topics by asking open-ended questions modeled after Lester's. When reading about slavery or other controversial topics and events, consider opening the discussion by asking children to think about the following:
- How would you feel if that happened to you?
- Can you imagine the thoughts of the aggressor as well as the victim?
- If you could ask someone who was involved in this situation a question, what would it be? How might that person respond?
A number of recent titles lend themselves to such discussions. Walter Dean Myers's At Her Majesty's Request (Scholastic, 1999) deals with a young African princess who was presented as a gift to Queen Victoria, and as a result, raises questions about race, culture, and power. Anita Lobel's memoir, No Pretty Pictures (Greenwillow, 1998), introduces issues related to the Holocaust in a personal and accessible way. Thom Holmes's Fossil Feud (Messner, 1996) deals with personal rivalry among scientists, and Brent Ashabranner's A Strange and Distant Shore (Cobblehill, 1996) raises moral issues concerning the treatment of the Plains Indians.
Even when historians agree on "the facts," they do not always agree on what they mean. Which facts are essential to the story and must be included? Which can be left out? Decisions about facts influence how a story is told and what conclusions are reached. By introducing young readers to several versions of the same event, we can help them see that history involves selecting and interpreting facts in order to tell a story. Competing narratives are the result of differing ideas about what the facts mean. After reading a set of books, a chart of similarities and differences might be constructed to highlight the facts that the narratives share and those that are unique to each book, the topics that are illustrated and how, and the writers' conclusions.
For example, though Aliki's William Shakespeare & the Globe (HarperCollins, 1999) and Diane Stanley's Bard of Avon: The Story of William Shakespeare (Morrow, 1992) are both picture-book biographies, they include different sets of facts. While both of them discuss the lack of evidence about Shakespeare's personal life and the need to supplement this information with facts about the times in which he lived and about his plays, these titles have different emphases. Aliki describes the more recent project by Sam Wanamaker, his family, and friends to rebuild the Globe theatre. In contrast, Diane Stanley focuses more on Shakespeare's plays. Aliki provides smaller illustrations, sometimes four to a page, with extensive captions. An extended sequence illustrates the process of rebuilding the theatre. Stanley's full-page paintings of Shakespeare's Stratford and London, as well as scenes from various plays, give an up-close look at the setting.
Some other excellent examples of competing historical narratives include Josephine Poole's Joan of Arc (Knopf, 1998), illustrated by the author; Margaret Hodges's Joan of Arc (Holiday, 1999), illustrated by Robert Rayevsky; and Diane Stanley's Joan of Arc (Morrow, 1998), illustrated by the author. Three fine titles that look at Sir Ernest Shackelton's Antarctic expedition are Jennifer Armstrong's Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World (Crown, 1998), Elizabeth Cody Kimmel's Ice Story (Clarion, 1999), and Michael McCurdy's Trapped by the Ice! (Walker, 1997).
Steven Jaffe's Who Were the Founding Fathers? (Holt, 1996) deserves a reading all its own. In one volume, the author shows how Americans have consistently revised how they see the early leaders of the country from the time they appeared on the political scene to the present day. By highlighting the distinctive features of these competing narratives, children see the role of selection and interpretation in writing history.
Books that provide multiple voices are compelling because they are personal and unique. Pearl Fuyo Gaskins's What Are You?: Voices of Mixed-Race Young People (Holt, 1999) consists of interviews with young people about identity issues. Casey King and Linda Barrett Osborne's Oh, Freedom!: Kids Talk About the Civil Rights Movement with the People Who Made It Happen (Knopf, 1997) is a collection of interviews conducted by children who spoke with neighborhood adults about the civil rights movement as they experienced it. Tim McKee's No More Strangers Now: Young Voices from a New South Africa (DK Ink, 1998), with photographs by Anne Blackshaw, consists of powerful interviews about the process of reconciliation in South Africa as seen by youngsters dealing with the legacy of apartheid.
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When varied voices are included in a dialogue about the past, the role of perspective in historical thinking is clearly demonstrated. |
These books are interesting to read and discuss because of their unique stories. What is the range of experience detailed here? What are the similarities and differences among them? Are the interviews credible? Why? These are interesting questions to pursue because they confront the complexity of dealing with eyewitness accounts that provide a varied, more textured picture of the past.
In addition, books of interviews gathered as oral histories can provide a model for "doing history" right now--that is, interviewing friends, neighbors, and relatives about current issues, past events, and changes that have occurred over time. When varied voices are included in a dialogue about the past, the role of perspective in historical thinking is clearly demonstrated.
It isn't the bold colors or glossy graphics that will create tomorrow's history buffs. It is books that can introduce interesting topics and show how to think historically. As Robert Darnton, professor of history at Princeton, pointed out recently in an op-ed piece in the New York Times ("No Computer Can Hold the Past," June 12, A 23), even historical data that seems straightforward isn't. Referring to letters and diaries as sources of information, he noted that "...this raw material isn't raw at all. It's cooked." Thought-provoking books combined with teaching strategies that support historical thinking help children read between the lines so they know what's cooking.
Myra Zarnowski is a professor at Queens College (Flushing, NY) in the Department of Elementary & Early Childhood Education.
