I love social studies. I love history. I love that everything in history is one fantastic story about real people... people who were passionate enough to make a difference in their time. Or perhaps, people who just happened to be at the right place at the right time.
Perhaps they are no longer with us, but their legacy remains. They are real people... who laughed at things I would probably laugh at, who crafted snarky letters to their rivals, who passionately debated things that probably didn't matter, but who also stood strong for freedom, for truth, and for what's right. I'm also intrigued to read about the villains and the impossible amount of evil capable of being bottled inside just one person. I am fascinated that these were real people simply living out their daily lives, but who are now recorded in our Pearson and Prentice-Hall textbooks... either because of the times they lived in, or because of what they used those times for.
I am not one of those social studies teachers who has a favorite historical figure, an extreme political opinion, or a favorite time in history. This always made me uncomfortable in my history classes, because I could never join in the lively debates of which time period was better, and who I would rather sit down to dinner with. I don't have Civil War era clothes, or collect ancient documents. I simply relish all of it. Whatever I'm currently learning about is my favorite.
I do have a special place in my heart for the American Revolution, however. Let me tell you why.
It was through studying the American Revolution in fifth grade that history came alive. It was then that suddenly the events related to the lives of real people. It was then that my thinking was challenged and stretched. Beyond just reading about a stiff, two-dimensional Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin, I became them. I became a Daughter of Liberty. I became a revolutionary. I kept journal entries as these people; I personified them and warred against "taxation without representation" in British Parliament. My fifth grade teacher, as King George III made herself the enemy, and united us together against her. She made us pay taxes for homework, taxes for lunch, and taxes for recess. Our faces flushed in anger against the ridiculousness of it all.
And then we understood. We understood those people, we understood the birth of our nation, and we loved being Americans... free-thinkers, born out of passionate love for freedom, and unified because of it.
But honestly, it wasn't the American Revolution that stole my heart. It was the ability to understand, to empathize with people across time, across generations, across cultures to finally understand that we shared a common history. It was the ability to see the greater story, to understand the greater role each person played, and it was the ability to see history beyond simple dates and names on a lifeless timeline.
I now get to stand in front of my class of twenty fourth graders and tell them I love history. They moan and groan. They flip disinterestedly through their social studies book, un-eager to study Native Americans, the American Revolution, or anything about Indiana.
But that's starting to change. I become a story-teller. Not the teacher. Their eyes follow me as I pace around the room, telling them crazy stories about explorers and war heroes. I imitate the nomads hunting mastodons, and "settle" with a nomadic people group, in an empty desk at their group of four. They giggle. But they are fascinated.
Well. It's time for them to experience it on their own. Because one day not so far off, I won't be there to tell stories for them. I won't be there to act out their dry, middle school texts, or their massive college Intro to World History books.
But I am here, now, to give them a love of history just like my fifth grade teacher did for me. I hope to give them such a palpable experience that it will last long enough to inspire them to keep reading, keep studying, and keep learning, even when the action fades, and the only thing left are words on a page, a lifeless timeline, and a list of names. I hope to equip them to bring those heroes to life, and to keep passing these remarkable stories on to future generations, before history fades from our curriculum.
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