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Happy New Year! Each January, we get the opportunity to turn the page (literally and figuratively) to a new year, a new chapter. It is a time of reflection, renewal and resolutions. This edition of Social Education was put together with those themes in mind. We have articles to help us reflect on our purpose as educators, to help us see the joy in what we do, and to challenge us to renew our commitment to social studies in 2026.
In this issue, we are reminded about the critical work that we do each day to shape future generations through the inspiring remarks of NCSS President Dr. Tina M. Ellsworth. Originally delivered to attendees at the 2025 NCSS Annual Conference, Dr. Ellsworth noted, "[T]his conference isn’t just a professional gathering. It is a celebration—a reminder that we are not alone in this work, and that democracy, yes, democracy itself, depends on teachers who still believe in possibility.” I invite you to be inspired by reading the full text of her remarks.
This milestone year marks America’s 250th anniversary, and to celebrate, we are featuring a special section honoring our nation’s founding. We kick off the year with an amazing collection of articles curated by Dr. Stephen S. Masyada, director of the Lou Frey Institute at the University of Central Florida.
Continuing our focus on civic engagement in action, Davis Harper shares an account of high school students organizing around mental health needs after a school crisis in “Channeling Frustration Toward Action: How Student-Led Inquiry Can Empower Students as ChangeAgents.” It is a powerful reminder about how inquiry-based lessons can empower civic action.
In “What Does It Mean to Be CommunityRooted and Responsive in Civics/Social Studies Classrooms?” Asif Wilson, Rebecca Coven, and Rubi Mendez share how student and teacher narratives can help educators design communityrooted projects that empower students to investigate local issues and take informed civic action.
NCSS Notebook
In our regular feature, Lessons on the Law, Michael E. Powers examines how the rule of law and judicial independence support business success, economic growth, and the ability to pursue opportunity. He demonstrates how to help students connect civic principles to real-world outcomes in “The Rule of Law and an Independent Judiciary: Cornerstones of Business Success, Economic Development, and the American Dream.”
Abigail Krolik explores how photographs can launch an engaging lesson that invites students to analyze captions and visual evidence as a starting point for inquiry into Japanese American incarceration during World War II in our Sources and Strategies column. Her piece, “Sparking Student Curiosity with Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information Photographs,” will spark your curiosity!
As always, we thank you for your commitment to social studies education. Your feedback is always welcome; email socialed@ncss.org. Wishing you a happy, healthy 2026.
Kelly McFarland Stratman is the Executive Director of NCSS.
Democracy Depends on It
Tina M. Ellsworth
This presidential address was delivered in December 2025 at the NCSS annual conference in Washington, D.C.
Good morning, social studies teachers!
Look at this room—thousands of people who willingly gather to talk about government structures, civic participation, and the economic causes of the Panic of 1837 … on purpose. You are my people.
Yet here we are—together— because we believe something profound: Democracy depends on it. But what is “it”? The answer is: Everything we do as social studies teachers every single day. It’s us. As educators, you are the torchbearers of democracy, and our theme this year, “because democracy depends on it,” honors your vital role in shaping informed, empathetic, and engaged citizens. Over a year ago, I began brainstorming the theme for this conference, and I knew that I wanted this gathering to be a place of joy and hope—a respite for educators, where they can fill their buckets, strengthen relationships, and make new friends.
Look around at all of the social studies enthusiasts in the room. You all are FIRE! Find someone next to you, give them a high five or fist bump and tell them “Let’s have some fun this weekend!” Bonus points if you give more than one high five. In a world where
joy to one another through eye contact as you walk down the hallways, random high fives to fellow educators, and smiles
neck. Bags filled with the joys and frustrations of this calling—bags filled with stacks of grading you promised yourself you wouldn’t bring, and yet … here we are.
I want today to feel like a moment of collective exhale, because this conference isn’t just a professional gathering. It is a celebration—a reminder that we are not alone in this work, and that democracy, yes, democracy itself, depends on teachers who still believe in possibility.
Now, let’s tell the truth, because if any group appreciates honesty, it’s the ones who teach children/teenagers. We are teaching at a time when everything feels loud, and you may be angry and frustrated at what is happening in our country right now. But you know what? That anger tells me that you still have hope. You have hope that things can get better.
Politics seep into classrooms like glitter—impossible to contain, impossible to ignore. There
are more eyes on curriculum than ever before. Students are swimming in oceans of information— and misinformation—and they’re asking us to be their lifelines. And it’s exhausting. There are days you feel like you’re simultaneously expected to be a constitutional scholar, a historian, a therapist, a detective—you name it, we’ve done it. And on top of that, society asks you to fix polarization, heal institutions, interpret the news, and explain to parents why their child got an 89 instead of a 90.
But here’s the truth we don’t say enough:
You show up anyway. You show up with courage. You show up with care. You show up because you know democracy isn’t just some abstract idea—it’s who we are and how we live.
And that choice? That choice is profoundly democratic. Despite the noise, here’s something
remarkable: You hold a kind of power that no algorithm, no piece of legislation, no viral TikTok can replace.
You teach students to question, not comply. You teach them to disagree without dehumanizing. You teach them to see themselves not as bystanders to history, but as contributors to it.
You help them understand that the Constitution isn’t a dusty document but rather a living conversation. You help them see the patterns of history so they can break the ones that no longer serve us. You teach them that civic agency isn’t reserved for adults with microphones—it’s available to 14-year-olds with a pen, a plan, or sometimes just the courage to raise their hand. And for many students, you are the first person who tells them, “Your voice matters.” That moment—the widening of the eyes, the spark of recognition—that’s not just teaching. That is democracy expanding in real time.
Now, I’ll be honest: Social studies isn’t always known for being synonymous with “joy.” Math has Pi Day. Science has explosions. English has Shakespearean insults. We have … the Federalist Paper 6-7. See what I did there? But in all seriousness, the joy is there—woven into the small moments that no one sees but you. There’s the student who debates passionately about free speech and then apologizes because “I didn’t mean to sound like I was yelling at you, I just really care about the First Amendment.” There’s the quiet kid—the one who sits in the back trying to blend into the cinderblock wall—who finally “locks in” and raises a hand during a discussion on civil rights. There’s the entire class that collapses into laughter when you accidentally say “the Articles of Confederation were mid,” and suddenly you gain 10 cool points you didn’t know you were allowed to have. These moments might seem small. But together? Together they form the heartbeat of democratic learning. Because joy isn’t the absence of struggle—it’s the evidence of meaning and learning.
When people worry about the future of democracy—and let’s be honest, there has been plenty to worry about—they often look to elections, or Congress, or the courts. But I look to you. Because the long-term strength of democracy won’t be decided by pundits or politicians—it will be
shaped by the students sitting in your classrooms right now, and next year and the year after. The ones learning how to empathize with someone they disagree with. The ones discovering how to discern facts from noise. The ones realizing they can write to a representative, speak at a council meeting, organize a project, stand up for a friend. They are learning these things from you. And that’s why the theme of this conference is not a slogan—it is the truth. Democracy does depend on it. And “it” is the courageous, messy, joyful, hopeful act of teaching.
So as we kick off this conference, I want you to give yourselves permission—permission to learn boldly, to connect deeply, to rest unapologetically, and to reclaim the hope that brought you into teaching in the first place. Because your work is not just important. It is irreplaceable. Democracy depends on educators who believe in students. Democracy depends on classrooms where inquiry is encouraged. Democracy depends on the people sitting in this room.
And so, from my heart: Thank you. Thank you for your courage. Thank you for your craft. Thank you for showing up—especially on the days when it is hardest. And thank you for believing that young people deserve this democracy of ours and an education to sustain it. Now, twin, let’s begin this conference with curiosity, with courage, and above all—with joy and hope.
Because democracy depends on it.
Tina M. Ellsworth, PhD, is President of the National Council for the Social Studies and Assistant Professor of Social Studies Education at the University of Central Missouri.
Introduction: The Opportunity of America250
Stephen S. Masyada
The United States of America is more than a country. It is an ideal, a set of founding principles crafted 250 years ago that continue to inspire us today. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness all shape who we are as a nation, and these founding principles have all taken different forms over our comparatively short history. But the fact that these are our founding principles matters, because as with every foundation, they serve as a means to build, expand, grow, remodel, and ultimately create a nation that is indeed conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal (to borrow a phrase). The articles in this section all reflect this idea of building on a foundation to fulfill the promises of liberty.
Each piece in this section is written by a classroom educator, civic education leader, curriculum specialist, or scholar who has sought to provide you with a short but engaging article that will provoke thought and provide guidance in teaching our founding principles in the 250th year of our nation’s birth. These authors come from the Lou Frey Institute/Florida Joint Center for Citizenship at the University of Central Florida, SPHERE Education Initiatives, Colonial Williamsburg, and iCivics, and their broad depth of experience and knowledge are perfect for exploring the opportunity of America250.
Christopher Spinale, in his article “We Hold These Truths: Teaching the American Promise with Courage, Care, and Complexity,” emphasizes the need for courage in empowering the voices of our students. This involves centering student voice and agency, connecting historical ideals to modern struggles for justice, and teaching
counter-narratives that highlight those excluded from the founding vision. By addressing civic fragility and controversy with care and evidencebased dialogue, teachers model democratic courage and foster empathy, critical thinking, and engagement. Ultimately, through inquiry and discourse, teaching the American Promise means helping students see themselves not only as inheritors of history but as active shapers of a more just and inclusive constitutional republic. Inquiry and discourse are also key to “Teaching the Declaration of Independence as Unfulfilled Promise,” by Allan Carey and John Snoad. In their piece, the authors focus on teaching the Declaration of Independence in a way that challenges students to grapple with promises made and promises yet to be met. Viewing it as an “unfinished promise” allows teachers and students to explore its meaning honestly and critically. Effective teaching strategies include framing inquiry-based questions about the document’s arguments and impact, examining diverse primary sources, and encouraging civil discourse that balances historical empathy with analytical rigor. Ultimately, educators are urged to help students see the Founders as complex figures and to engage deeply with the Declaration’s enduring call to build a more perfect union. Their expertise on civil discourse shines in this piece as they provide a framework that encourages students to think deeply about our founding principles and promises.
In “A Freedom to Speak … and the Obligation to Listen,” Joe Schmidt explores the evolution and importance of civil discourse in American
democracy, from the Revolutionary Era’s demand for representation to modern classrooms. He argues that liberty and discourse are essential to sustaining democracy. Though disagreements are inevitable, Americans still share core values like freedom, unity, and community. Schools play a vital role in teaching students how to engage respectfully with differing views through structured discussions that promote understanding rather than winning. As the nation approaches its 250th anniversary, his article calls on Americans, and especially those of us in the classroom, to embrace discomfort, listen with empathy, and see struggle as necessary for progress and unity.
The final article in this section, “Teaching ‘Hard Things’: Keeping our Promise to Keep the Republic,” comes to us from Emma Humphries.
Resources for Teaching America’s 250th Anniversary
• The Declaration of Independence Turns 250!, Florida Joint Center for Citizenship/The Lou Frey Institute, https:// floridacitizen.org/doi250.
• Teach about America’s 250th Anniversary, iCivics Education, https://ed.icivics.org/teach.
Her article points out that in today’s politically charged climate, even fundamental civics topics like those that form the foundation of our nation have become controversial. This leaves teachers fearful of teaching core democratic principles. Humphries describes widespread anxiety among social studies educators who feel constrained by political pressures, even as civic education is more essential than ever. By focusing on preparation, communication with stakeholders, the use of historical rather than current examples, focusing on institutions instead of individuals, and modeling intellectual humility, social studies teachers can return to being able to teach about our founding principles and difficult topics without fear.
Taken together, these pieces paint a hopeful picture of America at 250 and what we can do in our classrooms. Readers are encouraged to visit the websites of the contributing authors to this section to explore the resources that they provide. All of them are eager to offer support to social studies educators as we approach the 250th anniversary of our nation, not with trepidation, but with pride in the foundation of greatness that our forefathers established.
Stephen S. Masyada, PhD, is Director of the Lou Frey Institute, housed in the School of Politics, Security, and International Affairs at the University of Central Florida. With his colleagues at the Institute’s Florida Joint Center for Citizenship, he provides advocacy and professional learning and curricular materials around civic education and civic life for K-16 classrooms.
This year’s theme is “From Revolution to Resilience: Exploring America's Past, Present, and Future.” From the birth of the nation in 1776 to the enduring impact of 9/11, the American story is one of revolution, challenge, and resilience. Join us in celebrating 250 years of resilience and explore how pivotal events—from the founding to the present—can be taught in ways that engage students in critical thinking, civic responsibility, and historical understanding. https://www.socialstudies.org/professional-learning/2026-summer-virtual-conference
We Hold These Truths: Teaching the American Promise with Courage, Care, and Complexity
Christopher Spinale
“We hold these truths to be self-evident….”
These enduring words from the Declaration of Independence have helped shape the American identity and its democratic ideals. Yet for many students, the full meaning of these truths may feel distant from their personal experiences. As educators, we are called to explore both the ideals and the complexities of the American story, examining how the nation’s promises have been understood, challenged, and expanded over time. In today’s dynamic civic landscape, social studies classrooms can serve as thoughtful spaces where students engage with history, consider multiple perspectives, and reflect on how the American promise continues to evolve.
The American Promise as a Living Ideal
The American Promise, rooted in liberty, equality, and justice, has always been aspirational. The Declaration of Independence proclaims that “all men are created equal,” yet the founding generation upheld systems of slavery, exclusion, and disenfranchisement. This contradiction is not a flaw in the curriculum to be avoided; it is the curriculum.
Teaching the American Promise as a living ideal means helping students see the nation’s founding principles not as finished products, but as civic commitments that require ongoing interpretation and action. It invites them to ask: Who was included in the promise? Who was left out? How has the promise expanded? How is it still contested today?
This approach transforms the classroom into a space of civic inquiry. Students are not merely
recipients of necessary historical knowledge; they become active participants in the democratic process. They learn to question, critique, and imagine a more inclusive future. Through this lens, history becomes a tool for empowerment rather than a static record of the past. Students begin to see themselves as inheritors of a legacy bequeathed by the Founders and Framers that demands engagement, reflection, and renewal long after their traditional learning days are finished.
By framing the American Promise as a living ideal, educators foster a sense of ownership and responsibility in students. They begin to understand that democracy is not a spectator sport; it requires engagement, vigilance, and a willingness to participate. When students recognize that the promise is theirs to shape, they are more likely to invest in its future with courage and care.
Centering Student Voice and Agency
One powerful way to teach the American Promise is to center student voice. When students are invited to reflect on their own experiences, identities, and aspirations in relation to American ideals, they begin to see themselves as part of the national story.
For example, students might be asked to write personal “Declarations of Interdependence,” drawing on the structure of the 1776 document to articulate their own values and visions for community. In a classroom scenario, students may write about justice, the environment, or mental health. They may connect historical language to
contemporary struggles, and in doing so, claim ownership of the American Promise.
[D]emocracy is not a spectator sport; it requires engagement,
vigilance, and a willingness to participate.
This kind of work fosters civic identity and belonging. It also builds empathy, as students listen to one another’s truths and recognize the diversity of experiences that shape our republic. When students see their voices reflected in the curriculum, they are more likely to engage deeply and meaningfully with the content.1
Moreover, student voice is not just about expression; it is about empowerment. When students are given the tools to analyze, critique, and reimagine civic life, they become engaged. They learn that their perspectives matter and that their actions can shape the future of life in a democratic republic. This sense of agency is especially critical in moments of civic uncertainty, when students may feel disconnected or disillusioned. By validating their lived experiences and encouraging the development of foundational knowledge joined with active participation, educators help students build the confidence to become the citizens they can be. Along the way, classrooms become incubators of civic renewal.
Teaching Through Counter-Narratives
To teach the American Promise honestly, educators must also teach its counter-narratives, the stories of those who were excluded from the founding vision and who fought to expand it. These narratives do not reject the American ideal; rather, they expand it by revealing how diverse communities have fought to make those ideals real.
This includes responses to settlement and expansion, the abolitionist movement, women’s suffrage, labor organizing, civil rights activism, and more. These stories are not “add-ons” to the main narrative; they are essential threads in the
fabric of American history. Indeed, the American Revolution itself can support instruction through this expansion of the narrative. What does the Revolution mean, beyond the promises of the Declaration, for those who were not included in its original framing?
For example, when teaching the Constitution, students might examine the perspectives of those who were not at the table in 1787: enslaved people, women, and Indigenous tribes. They might read Frederick Douglass’s 1852 speech, “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” alongside the Declaration of Independence. Such juxtaposition invites critical thinking and moral reflection.2 Educators can also incorporate contemporary counter-narratives, such as the voices of DREAMers advocating for immigration reform or youth-led movements challenging environmental policy. These modern struggles echo historical ones and help students see the continuity of civic activism. By connecting past and present, students begin to understand that the fight to fulfill the American Promise is ongoing and that they have a role to play. As noted below, however, these discussions must take place only when students have established and demonstrated a sufficient understanding of the founding documents and principles central to American history. One cannot connect past and present without a firm grasp of the former. At the same time, just as the Framers of our founding documents engaged in vigorous debate and discussion, so should our students. The examples provided here, on immigration and environmental policy, should provide multiple perspectives on the issues at hand. Just as John Dickinson refused to sign the Declaration because he disagreed with the timing, so should our students be encouraged to debate and discuss the wisdom of public policy without fear of opprobrium.
By foregrounding these voices and engaging in discussions that center our founding principles and documents, educators help students understand that the American Promise has always been contested, and that progress has come through struggle, dissent, and collective action. Counternarratives also help students develop a more nuanced understanding of history. They learn that historical change is often driven by those
on the margins, and that our founding principles are lived up to through persistent advocacy and resistance.
Ensuring a Strong Foundation
To ensure that our students are able to engage in conversations like those touched on in this piece, it is necessary that they first develop foundational knowledge. It is not possible to discuss the promise of America without grasping what those founding principles and promises are. As such, students need to engage with the primary freedom documents that have inspired generations. When having students engage with both historical and contemporary narratives, center the discussion around the words and language of the founding documents. For example, a discussion about civil rights should focus on how both the Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution have served to encourage the pursuit and expansion of liberty. A teacher might engage students with Frederick Douglass’s 1852 Rochester speech, where he defended the Constitution against accusations that it was
a pro-slavery document. Instead, he argued, it was crafted as a “glorious liberty document” that promised the eventual end of, rather than ongoing support for, slavery, and that it contained “principles and purposes entirely hostile to the existence of slavery….”3
Building this foundation and centering it on the promises that were made at the birth of our nation provides the important context for engaging in the sorts of discussions and learning that are necessary for engaged citizenship. The founding principles and the documents that highlight and support them make deeper conversations possible. They allow us to help students understand that our founding documents are indeed a foundation, and as with every foundation, we build something. Sometimes we must expand, sometimes we must redesign, but we have always had a strong foundation; this strong foundation encourages us to take on challenges.
Civic Fragility and the Need for Courage
In recent years, the fragility of our constitutional republic has become increasingly visible. From
Youth demonstrators gather near the U.S. Capitol on Sept. 24, 2021, during a global day of climate strikes. (Photo by Bryan Olin Dozier/NurPhoto via AP)
the events of January 6th to debates over voting rights and book bans, students are witnessing civic tensions in real time. These events can be confusing or polarizing, but they are also teachable moments.
Teaching the American Promise in this context requires civic courage. It means addressing controversial issues head-on, not avoiding them. It means helping students distinguish between disagreement and disinformation, between protest and insurrection, between patriotism and jingoism. This is not easy work. It requires educators to be facilitators of dialogue, not arbiters of truth. As Diana Hess has argued, classrooms that engage controversy thoughtfully are essential to democratic education.4
Educators must be prepared to support students emotionally and intellectually as they navigate these complex issues. This includes setting clear norms for discussion, modeling respectful disagreement, and providing historical context that helps students make sense of current events. It also means helping students understand the mechanisms of democracy, how laws are made, how elections function, and how civic institutions can be both protective and flawed.
Civic courage also means remaining committed to principled teaching, even in the face of resistance or disagreement. Educators play a vital role in affirming the value of inclusive, honest, and inquiry-driven civic education, especially when such approaches are subject to political scrutiny.5 As a result, they model the democratic values they aim to cultivate in students. Civic education should foster a deep appreciation for our country and its founding ideals, while also encouraging critical engagement with its complexities. Courageous teaching is not about promoting a particular viewpoint. It is about creating space for truth, dialogue, and growth. When students observe educators navigating challenging topics with integrity and care, they learn that democracy is not just a concept, but a lived practice that demands thoughtfulness, resilience, and ethical responsibility.
Navigating Controversy with Courage and Care
Teaching inclusive history is not without challenges. Educators may face pushback from
parents, administrators, or policymakers who view counter-narratives as divisive. However, research shows that students benefit from learning about complex histories; it increases civic knowledge, empathy, and engagement.6
To navigate these tensions:
• Ground instruction in standards and scholarship. Use state standards and reputable sources to justify curricular choices.
• Foster classroom norms of respect and inquiry. Create a space where students can explore difficult topics with care and curiosity.
• Engage families and communities. Share learning goals and invite dialogue about the importance of inclusive civic education.
Navigating controversy also requires educators to anticipate and prepare for moments of discomfort. When students encounter narratives that challenge their assumptions or family beliefs, educators must respond with empathy and clarity. This means acknowledging emotional responses while guiding students toward evidence-based reasoning. It also means helping students understand that disagreement is not inherently harmful; it is a vital part of democratic discourse.
This is where the Declaration of Independence at 250 lesson collection from the Lou Frey Institute and C-SPAN Classroom becomes a valuable resource. These lessons explore how different communities have experienced the promises of the Declaration across time and are designed not only to deepen historical understanding but to support civil discourse, evidence-based reasoning, and student-centered inquiry.7
Educators can integrate them as scaffolds for courageous conversations that connect historical ideals to contemporary civic realities. Each of the nine lessons uses primary sources to lead students in a discussion of how some of the common promises of the Declaration (equality, right to revolution, unalienable rights, consent of the governed) have measured up across diverse generations over the last 250 years. The focused generations include Colonial Americans in 1776, women in 1848, children in 1916, African Americans in 1965, Hispanic and
Latino Americans in 1970, Indigenous Americans in 1975, Japanese Americans in 1988, Americans with disabilities in 1990, and Americans today and of the future. By using these lessons to frame inquiry and dialogue, educators can foster deeper civic understanding and empower students to see themselves as part of the ongoing quest for a more perfect union. These lessons provide a flexible structure that allows educators to adapt content to their students’ needs, local contexts, and current events. Most importantly, they model how to approach difficult truths with intellectual honesty and emotional care, grounded in our most important founding documents and in our founding principles.
By strategically using these resources, educators can create learning environments that are both intellectually rigorous and emotionally supportive. They can help students build the skills needed to engage in democratic life with confidence and compassion. Through this approach, they prepare students not only to understand civic controversy but to navigate it with courage, care, and a commitment to justice.
Conclusion: Holding the Truths Together
To teach the American Promise is to teach both hope and honesty. It is to acknowledge the nation’s ideals while confronting its contradictions. It is to help students see themselves not just as inheritors of history, but as authors of the future. By learning that democracy is not a finished product but a collective endeavor, students begin to see themselves as participants in our republic.
This work is not without risk. It requires vulnerability, flexibility, and a willingness to engage with discomfort. But it also offers profound rewards: classrooms where students feel seen, heard, and empowered to make a difference.
As educators, we hold these truths, not as dogma, but as dialogue. Not as a finished story, but as an invitation to co-create a more just and inclusive republic. By engaging in this work, we prepare the next generation not only to understand the American Promise, but to fulfill it. This means cultivating civic imagination, the ability to envision a society that reflects our highest ideals and includes all voices. It means encouraging students to ask not only “What is?” but “What could
be?” and “What should be?” When we teach with courage, care, and complexity, we help students become not just informed citizens, but inspired ones, ready to shape the future with purpose and conviction.
Notes
1. Gretchen Brion-Meisels, “Giving Students a Voice,” Usable Knowledge, Harvard Graduate School of Education, August 18, 2016, www.gse.harvard.edu/ideas/usableknowledge/16/08/giving-students-voice
2. Thomas K. Lindsay, with editorial and research assistance from Lucy Meckler, “‘Action Civics,’ ‘New Civics,’ ‘Civic Engagement,’ and ‘Project-Based Civics’: Advances in Civic Education?” Texas Public Policy Foundation, Sept. 2020, www.texaspolicy.com
3. Frederick Douglass, “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” (Rochester, NY: 1852), see www.gilderlehrman.org/ sites/default/files/inline-pdfs/douglass_july_4_speech.pdf
4. Diana Hess, Controversy in the Classroom: The Democratic Power of Discussion (Routledge, 2009).
5. Stephen S. Masyada and Christopher Spinale, “Practice What We Preach: The Teacher as Advocate and Leader,” in Teacher Educators as Scholar Citizens: Activism and Resistance in Uncertain Times, eds. Sarah Kaka, Matthew S. Hollstein, Elizabeth Kenyon, and Nancy Patterson (Bloomsbury Academic, 2025).
6. Lina Mai, “How Historical Empathy Helps Students Understand the World Today,” Facing History & Ourselves, March 27, 2018, www.facinghistory.org/ideas-week/howhistorical-empathy-helps-students-understand-worldtoday.
7. Declaration of Independence at 250, “The Declaration and the American Identity,” Lou Frey Institute, https:// floridacitizen.org/doi250
Christopher Spinale is the Associate Director of the Lou Frey Institute and Instructor in the School of Politics, Security, and International Affairs at the University of Central Florida. A former social studies teacher and school district curriculum supervisor, his research focuses on the teaching and learning of civics. For teaching resources from the Lou Frey Institute visit https://floridacitizen.org/ doi250
Teaching the Declaration of Independence as Unfulfilled Promise
Allan Carey and John Snoad
In an era of high polarization, teaching the Declaration of Independence brings with it fresh challenges for the social studies educator. Societal pressure that all topics must conform to one political side or another exposes teachers to accusations of bias by the mere act of teaching the curriculum. Too often, then, teachers approach the Declaration as mere datum, a moment in history along a swift progression through the chronology of early America, no more interesting than the battle of Lexington and Concord or the Treaty of Paris. Alternatively, the Declaration, and the Founding generation, suffer a highly polarized treatment, either lauded beyond measure or scorned and discarded.
Herein we offer a proposal for a different treatment. We believe it is possible to take the Declaration of Independence seriously, to grapple with the arguments and principles articulated in that document, without succumbing to these outside pressures and temptations. In doing so, it becomes possible to see the Declaration as a promise to future generations, a foundation upon which to build, as the Constitution would later articulate, a more perfect union. These subsequent 250 years can best be viewed as an attempt to live up to that promise.
In dedicating the Soldier’s National Cemetery at Gettysburg, Abraham Lincoln would refer twice to the idea of dedication. First, to the work of the Founders with the Declaration as being “dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” And then later, as a charge to all Americans, to be dedicated to the “unfinished
work” of that earlier generation.1 In Lincoln’s telling of this story, the Declaration is a promissory note in the commitment to the twin pillars of liberty and equality. The Civil War, and with it emancipation and abolition of slavery, formed an unbroken chain in attempting to better fulfill that promise. So then too may we see subsequent social and political movements in American history, whether the women’s rights movement or the civil rights movement, as efforts to understand, apply, and better live up to the principles and promise of the Declaration of Independence.
Over the course of this article, we will attempt to accomplish three things. We will begin with a brief articulation of the argument of the Declaration of Independence: in other words, what promise is being made. From there, we’ll sketch out some of the historical evidence for this line of argument and the benefits of the approach with answers to potential criticisms anticipated. We will ultimately conclude with strategies for effectively teaching the Declaration in your classroom.
The Declaration of Independence marks the founding of the United States of America and this coming July 4th will mark our 250th birthday as a nation. The Declaration offers an argument for why the colonies had the right to separate and, in doing so, provides a philosophical foundation for the purpose of government. The famous second paragraph of the Declaration lays this all out as follows:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with
TEACHING
certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.—That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,—That whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.
Many already have spent volumes of ink and countless gigabytes exploring this, but a few words are in order to explain these principles.2
When the authors (while Thomas Jefferson rightly deserves pride of place for his work to draft the Declaration, the final product we celebrate today bears the imprint of many other hands and editors) begin with “We hold these truths to be self-evident,” they are making several important claims. First is the idea that the argument of the Founding is a thing to be held, or similarly, a set of principles to be dedicated to. The American idea or promise is founded upon a shared set of beliefs about people and the purpose of government. It is not a foundation built upon power, bloodlines, or ancestry.
The Declaration goes on to argue that these shared beliefs or truths include the principles that “all Men are created equal” and that they possess “certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.”
This print shows members of the Declaration Committee working at a table (left to right: Thomas Jefferson, Roger Sherman, Benjamin Franklin, Robert R. Livingston, and John Adams). (Currier & Ives, 1876 / Courtesy of Library of Congress, www.loc.gov/ item/91795008)
While these principles have echoed throughout American history, they are sometimes misunderstood. It can help to see the meaning in similar formulations from other official documents of that era. For example, the Virginia Bill of Rights from June of 1776 puts this argument as “all men are by nature equally free and independent.” Later, John Adams’s formulation in the Massachusetts Constitution of 1780 says, “All men are born free and equal, and have certain natural, essential, and unalienable rights.”3
The argument, in short, is that all people, when outside of a form of government, are equal to each other in their freedom. This implies that they possess rights, including their rights to life, liberty, property, and the pursuit of happiness. As understood at the time of the Founding, the claim of equality is not just a claim of any sort, but a particular understanding that people were equal in their freedom and in their rights more generally. As the Declaration goes on to argue, the purpose of government is to “secure these rights,” and when they fail to do so, it is the right and duty of the people to alter or abolish that government. However, we must stop here and confront the very real ways in which the world of 1776 (or 1860 or 1976 or today) did not in fact match this description. The early American republic did not broadly secure people in their freedom, rights, or equality. Whether the destitute, the indigenous, women, or, most cruelly, the enslaved, the principles articulated in the Declaration of Independence bore little or no resemblance to the reality of their lives. Indeed, many of those most celebrated for the work to bring about the Declaration of Independence and the revolution that followed, themselves participated in the barbarous practice of slavery or instituted laws that fell far short of the standard laid out.
How ought we understand, and teach, this undeniable dichotomy between principles expressed and the reality of the circumstances?
The way forward can be seen in viewing the Declaration of Independence, and its arguments for equality and rights, as a promise to future generations and a standard to hold accountable people and government going forward. Many of these Founders knew they were setting a standard well beyond what they could practice. Jefferson
wrote in his Notes on the State of Virginia that “I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just: that his justice cannot sleep forever” when considering the grave injustice of slavery.4 Yet they went further than any people had ever before in declaring universal principles applicable to all people at all times.
To see the efficacy of the promise of the Declaration, we can look to how so many subsequent movements in American history built upon, referenced, or quoted the Declaration. Early instances include abolitionist Prince Hall’s Petition to the Massachusetts Legislature of 1777, which called for the end of slavery in the terms of the Declaration of Independence.5 Later, in 1848, the Seneca Falls Convention issued the Declaration of Sentiments, explicitly modeling it on the Declaration of Independence in its argument for women’s rights.6 Or in the words of Martin Luther King, Jr. from his 1963 “I Have a Dream” speech:
When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.7
Each of these movements saw themselves as building upon the legacy of principles and rights articulated in the Declaration of Independence. Each, in turn, saw the Declaration as an inspiration, not complete in its origin, but profound in its consequences. Understanding the Declaration as an incomplete promise, as something to be worked toward and made more fully perfect by each generation, provides teachers and students with a more faithful exploration of the Founding and an opportunity to in good faith discuss the good, the bad, and the incomplete of our shared history.
Teaching the Declaration: Overcoming Challenges and Seizing Opportunities
It is important to design lessons that inspire curiosity and critical thinking to support students in deeper conversations to build enduring
understanding of the impact and significance of the enlightenment principles featured in the Declaration of Independence. In considering strategies for teaching the Declaration, we will offer a few key approaches, all with an eye toward fostering viewpoint-diverse civil discourse.
In proposing the following strategies, we approach them with the understanding that classroom discussion norms have been established and the teacher has prepared all relevant stakeholders for holding complex civil discourse.
First, frame essential questions around inquiry on the Declaration itself, not judgment of the Founders. In other words, start by shifting the focus from assessing the morality of Thomas Jefferson, the Declaration Committee, or the Founders in general, to serious consideration of what was expressed in the document, seen as a historical artifact. Through the lens of inquiry, we can ask a series of thought-provoking prompts:
• What arguments does the Declaration make, and who was included and excluded from the promise?
• Based on the vision of Enlightenment thinkers, how might we interpret the concepts of, and relationship between, liberty, equality, and rights from the founding to today?8
• In viewing the Declaration as a promise unfinished, how well have we lived up to its principles thus far, and what needs to happen to fully embody them in our society?
By challenging students to consider inquirybased questions, we can inspire curiosity and seize on the opportunity to support them in analyzing primary sources while considering diverse perspectives.
Second, teachers should encourage students to explore the founding principles through multiple perspectives by comparing diverse primary sources. Examining Enlightenment thinkers alongside American writings of the eighteenth century, such as John Adams’s Massachusetts Constitution of 1780, Jefferson’s Notes on the State of Virginia, the Adamses’ correspondence,
John Dickinson’s Letters from a Pennsylvania Farmer, and Thomas Paine’s Common Sense, helps students uncover meaningful connections and gain deeper insight into the era’s ideas and lived experiences.
Moreover, by pulling literature into the mix we can help support students in understanding the role of language and how previous generations interpreted, responded, and wrote about their societies. Understanding this can help students further work toward answering what it means to read with historical empathy while maintaining analytical rigor. With the Declaration as the anchoring document, supported by excerpts from sources such as historian Forrest McDonald’s “A Founding Father’s Library,” educators can create a portal through time and allow students to empathetically see through the eyes of those who both inspired and lived through the American Revolution.9
By examining alternative documents and accounts alongside the Declaration, students see how founding principles were debated, challenged, and reimagined. Doing so fosters historical inquiry, empathy, and deeper understanding without reducing analysis to judgment of individuals. Additionally, we can spark student curiosity through creating activities that give students opportunities to use their own voices to affirm, challenge, or expand on the Declaration’s principles.
Finally, we should carefully construct opportunities for students to grapple with the reality that the Founders, like all people, were complicated and at times flawed figures. Examining Jefferson, Madison, or Washington through both their ideas and actions provides a powerful entry point into the complexities of the era. This approach allows students to recognize both the achievements and shortcomings in fulfilling America’s founding principles.
The Founders are often portrayed in extremes. Sometimes presented as demi-gods, or conversely, as elitists or hypocrites, neither treatment offers our students the opportunity to fully engage with the ideas or complex legacy of this generation. We should challenge students to consider the dichotomy woven deep into our history and ask: Can all these things be true?
A Freedom to Speak … and the Obligation to Listen
Joe Schmidt
In the second half of the eighteenth century, citizens and leaders of 13 British colonies pushed back against imperial rule because they felt their voices were not heard. The oft-quoted phrase “no taxation without representation” encapsulated their grievance, articulating not an objection to taxation per se, but rather an argument that taxation is unjust if those paying do not have a voice in decisions regarding the creation and application of taxes.
Within a few short years, the colonies declared independence, fought and won a war, and set about designing a new nation. As the Articles of Confederation faltered, delegates drafted the Constitution, and fierce public debate spilled into the streets and newspapers. What became known as the Federalist and Anti-Federalist debate reflected two powerful, opposing visions for the nation, each demanding to be heard in the shaping of America’s future.
During these debates, Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay wrote The Federalist Papers. In Federalist 10, Madison observed, “Liberty is to faction what air is to fire, an aliment without which it instantly expires. But it could not be less folly to abolish liberty, which is essential to political life, because it nourishes faction, than it would be to wish the annihilation of air, which is essential to animal life, because it imparts to fire its destructive agency.”1
The only way to eliminate factions in the new nation would have been to abolish liberty itself, but liberty was the very cause for which the Revolution had been fought. In this, the AntiFederalists agreed, insisting on a Bill of Rights to safeguard citizens’ freedoms, with the very first amendment protecting freedom of speech.
Yet the right to speak one’s mind has an oftenoverlooked counterpart: the right to listen. In fact, listening is not merely a right but an obligation essential to sustaining a healthy democracy. To be clear, there are limits to both these rights. We know that one cannot falsely shout “fire” in a crowded theatre if doing so endangers public safety. In the same manner, I do not attempt to say that you are obligated to always listen to everyone else either. As Wayne Journell writes:
I recommend that when such issues have reached the point where subjective decisions must be made in determining whether they are framed as open or settled, deference should be made to framing those issues in a way that promotes public values as opposed to legitimizing private views.2
Each educator must understand where the line is between those public values and the need to give voice to each private view in the classroom. With that line in mind, I have my own clear lines and will not participate in discourse with someone if:
• They want to debate someone’s humanity.
• They use derogatory, racist, sexist, or homophobic (and so on) language.
• Their goal is to change my mind over gaining understanding.
• Neither of us are open to having our minds changed on the subject.
The first two bullets are based on my personal beliefs and what I am not willing to compromise. The last two bullets are to ensure that there is a rationale to have the conversation so that we do not spend the time just talking past one another instead of listening. We need to listen to understand, not just listen until it is our turn to talk again. We must be able to engage in civil discourse.
What is Civil Discourse?
The Center for Ethics and Human Values at the Ohio State University defines civil discourse as “The practice of deliberating about matters of public concern with others in a way that seeks to expand knowledge and promote understanding.”3 Too often, when talking with those whom we disagree with, we lose sight of expanding knowledge and understanding and instead focus on winning. If a conversation with someone else doesn’t end with you changing their mind, but you have gained a better understanding of their point of view and vice versa, isn’t that progress? If that was the outcome of every conversation that involved differing points of view, I believe we would be much better off as a society.
The challenge of civil discourse lies in balancing two extremes: letting a conversation devolve into conflict or avoiding conflict by refusing the conversation altogether. Too often, we treat discussion as a contest to be won, and in doing so, we grow uneasy with the possibility of “losing.” Avoidance then becomes easier than engagement.
It is human nature to seek to avoid discomfort. Our society is built on conveniences that reduce discomfort—we stay inside at the “right” temperature, we find quicker and easier transportation options, and we order takeout instead of cooking. But when we avoid the discomfort that comes with pushing our own thoughts and beliefs, we might be taking it too far. Susan David tells us, “Discomfort is the price of admission to a meaningful life.”4
To better understand civil discourse, one must also understand how society is expressing the collective discomfort that some are trying to avoid all together. “Controversial” is the word applied when it comes to educational topics that spark discomfort. Recently this has put a spotlight on social studies, specifically when it comes to teaching history.
Teaching about our history has been labeled controversial by some, and I strongly disagree. Teaching history is not controversial. There are many topics we teach that are contentious, but I do not subscribe to the idea that digging into some of the key understandings about our nation’s history is controversial.
More in Common
In his farewell address, striving to reduce the tension of disagreement, President George Washington stressed the importance of unity:
It is justly so, for it [unity of government] is a main pillar in the edifice of your real independence … of that very liberty which you so highly prize. But as it is easy to foresee that … much pains will be taken, many artifices employed to weaken in your minds the conviction of this truth … it is of infinite moment that you should properly estimate the immense value of your national union to your collective and individual happiness … discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest.5
In his transition from president to private life, Washington left us with the reminder: Our real independence lies in unity, and many will try to divide us. Today, 250 years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence, it is our duty as Americans to remember that the only people we can control in service to the collective good is ourselves.
Does the reality of our national division match the rhetoric we hear? A 2023 national poll (see Table 1 on p. 22) shows that 70% of Americans agree with the statement, “Americans have a lot more in common with each other than is generally believed.” Each demographic in the survey had an agreement rate of at least 60%.6 So what are we in agreement on?
A 2023 study from PACE (see Table 2 on p. 23) found that at least 75% of Americans
have a positive view of the words Freedom, Liberty, Community, Service, Citizen, Constitution, American, and Unity, and less than 10% have a negative view of the same words.7 We will always have disagreements, but at our core, we still hold on to some key truths about what it means to participate in our communities.
The Role of Schools
The introduction of the College, Career, and Civic Life (C3) Framework for Social Studies State Standards: Guidance for Enhancing the Rigor of K-12 Civics, Economics, Geography, and History
Table 1
acknowledges our differences, but leans into the shared beliefs of people toward the common good:
Advocates of citizenship education cross the political spectrum, but they are bound by a common belief that our democratic republic will not sustain unless students are aware of their changing cultural and physical environments; know the past; read, write, and think deeply; and act in ways that promote the common good. There will always
Americans have a lot more in common with each other than is generally believed.
% in the nation and in each community type who agree with the statement above
National
African American South
Aging Farmlands
Big Cities
College Towns
Evangelical Hubs
Exurbs
Graying America
Hispanic Centers
LDS Enclaves
Middle Suburbs
Militar y Posts
Native American Lands
Rural Middle America
Urban Suburbs
Work ing Class
Source: American Communities Project/Ipsos Fragmentation Study, June 7–23, 2023, using Ipsos’ probability-based KnowledgePanel® and from June 12–23, 2023, and July 7–10, 2023, using RDD Telephone. The poll is based on a sample of 5,093 Americans aged 18 or older, with 4,493 interviews taking place online and 600 interviews via telephone. • Get the data • Created with Datawrapper
be differing perspectives on these objectives. The goal of knowledgeable, thinking, and active citizens, however, is universal.8
As we see the decline in participation in community third space organizations (places where people interact outside of home, work, and school), like the Knights of Columbus, League of Women Voters, 4H, and so on, we are losing opportunities to interact with others. With fewer self-chosen face-to-face interactions with others, schools become more important as places where we can talk with those with whom we may disagree, and practice some of the key skills of civil discourse in facilitated ways where growth may occur.
As Diana Hess, former dean of education at the University of Wisconsin wrote in her 2008 book
Table 2
Controversy in the Classroom, “[S]chools have not just the right, but also the obligation, to create an atmosphere of intellectual and political freedom that uses genuine public controversies to help students discuss and envision political possibilities.” It is worth noting that in the same book, Hess addresses how not all topics are open for discussion in the classroom.9
Questions like “Is a hotdog a sandwich?” or “Is geography the biggest influence on a community?” can be used to start practicing the classroom strategies that students use to build their ability to engage in civil discourse. Vygotsky’s 1978 research on zones of proximal development tells us that if we want students to do the things that they are not currently capable of, then they need to practice with appropriate scaffolds to build the necessary skills.10 Students will never grow up to become the adults we need if we
What is the basic snapshot of how G en Z perceive civic terms in 2023?
Teaching “Hard Things”: Keeping our Promise to Keep the Republic
Emma Humphries
We don’t stop teaching algebra when working with polynomials gets hard, nor should we stop teaching civics when explaining the rule of law gets hard. However, that is precisely what is happening across the country, as traditional civics topics are increasingly being transformed into controversial issues. Take heart: America’s civics and history teachers can teach hard things — they always have.
We can teach hard things. And we should. We must.
Unfortunately, the category of “hard things” is no longer limited to issues typically considered controversial. In the fraught and frenetic sociopolitical climate that is the United States in the 2020s, “hard things” encompasses even the most traditional, previously unobjectionable topics that have filled America’s history and civics textbooks since the nineteenth century, topics such as rule of law, limited government, the separation of powers, and historical themes related to slavery, civil rights, world wars, and more.
Even the themes and topics of the very document we are celebrating on its 250th anniversary, themes such as equality, voting, and the consent of the governed, as well as certain natural rights, are met with hesitation, if not outright avoidance. Put another way, many of the once-sacred foundational themes of our nation, as outlined in the Declaration and the Constitution, are now fraught and controversial, rendering them difficult to teach at a time when our experiment in republican government desperately requires that we teach them.
Anecdotally, I found myself in front of 170 middle and high school social studies teachers in a school district in the Southeast during a scheduled teacher planning day on the tail-end of
—iCivics
national “Constitution Week.” As a social studies teacher who was born and raised in the Southeast, this was a familiar and natural setting. There were not just teachers in the room: district administrators, the principal of the campus hosting the training, two school board members, and a former state senator also attended. An opportunity presented itself.
I asked the teachers to raise their hands if they entered this profession because they were passionate about the Constitution, our founding documents, our system of government, and our history. I also asked them if they enjoyed sharing that knowledge and enthusiasm with students (every teacher raised their hand) and to keep their hands raised if they felt hesitant, nervous, or scared to do their job this school year (not a single hand was lowered). After the district leaders and elected officials somberly acknowledged the results of this impromptu straw poll, the presentation turned to its expressed purpose of covering the myriad new resources and opportunities the attending teachers could leverage to celebrate our nation’s 250th anniversary, our Semiquicentennial, with their students. But in smaller breakout groups later in the day, the reality manifested with deeper intensity: The teachers are not OK, not this year. During a year when all Americans should be celebrating the magnificent
TEACHING THE FOUNDING PRINCIPLES
experiment in democracy that is the United States of America, even those who have built a career around teaching that very thing, are struggling to find themselves in a celebratory mood. There is growing evidence to support the sense of fear and anxiety on display at that teacher planning day.1 According to RAND, 65 percent of teachers nationally report limiting discussions about political and social issues in class.2 Part of this has been fueled by “anti-divisive issues” legislation. Even when not passed into law or when the law itself is less restrictive than perceived, the chilling effect on educators is profound.3 Then there is the perception and oftentimes accompanying accusations that public schools promote liberal viewpoints, even though surveys show that teachers value “patriotic” education more than most Americans and are not interested in wielding political influence over their students.4 In short, the growing political divide in our communities, and the activation of certain groups against educators, has created a hesitation or all-out avoidance of approaching foundational civics and history topics. However, the need to cultivate a generation of students educated in civic principles is more crucial than ever. Understanding the rule of law, separation of powers, due process and more are not luxuries reserved for the elite, college educated, or political class. This is an education that every student in America deserves.
The We Can Teach Hard Things Initiative
For this reason, and many more, iCivics launched the We Can Teach Hard Things initiative.5 It was conceived in the early summer of 2025, designed over the next few months, and unveiled during back-to-school season in September. However, what was initially formulated as a small messaging and professional development series soon grew into our biggest, most consequential campaign for the 2025–26 school year, a school year that was supposed to be almost enthusiastically focused on the Semiquicentennial.
The objectives of We Can Teach Hard Things include encouraging the teaching of civics topics made difficult and/or controversial during this hyper-polarized and fraught moment in our nation’s political history; providing instructional guidance, curated materials, and real-world
examples of responsibly and effectively teaching civics topics; and empowering educators to proactively plan and communicate with stakeholders around teaching difficult topics. It is important to clarify that We Can Teach Hard Things is not about teaching current events. Rather, it is about teaching traditional civics topics that have become controversial in this moment or in response to current events. Importantly, the initiative is grounded in the principles of the Educating for American Democracy Roadmap, and regularly references its six design principles.6 For example, Design Challenge Four, titled “Civic Honesty, Reflective Patriotism” asks, “How can we offer an account of U.S. constitutional democracy that is simultaneously honest about the past without falling into cynicism and appreciative of the founding without tipping into adulation?” Teachers should be able to faithfully consider this question and implement their best answer without regular fear of punishment or termination. So, how does one teach all of these traditional topics turned tense—topics such as the separation of powers, citizenship, due process, rule of law, and freedom of the press? To answer this question in the most helpful and practical way possible, iCivics curated a list of tips and strategies that comprise the framework for the instructional guidance we will continue to advance, elaborate upon, and highlight with real-world examples as we seek to shift teachers’ mindsets of uncertainty and fear to empowerment and determination.
The Wisdom Behind We Can Teach Hard Things
Much of our guidance, which we offer through blog posts, video shorts, and webinars, is presented as a “select as many as applicable” menu (items 4–10) that educators can consult when planning a new unit, lesson, project, or activity. Importantly, that list is preceded by three recurring recommendations, which fall into the “early and often” category of due diligence and responsible professional practice for civics and history teachers (items 1–3).
1. Consult and follow your state standards. The vast majority of teachers in the United
States do not determine what they will teach their students—their state legislatures do. Without litigating the merits of this limited autonomy, the bright side is that when teachers cover the Constitution or major events in American history, they are doing their jobs. If someone challenges a lesson on, say, the separation of powers, most teachers can, and should, easily point to the state standard instructing them to do so.
2. Plan for a structured lesson with clear objectives tied to the standards. Part of the magic of being a civics teacher is that news events and headlines provide regular examples from which to remake seemingly dry government topics interesting and relevant to students. That is especially true today as, according to recent reporting, “the prevalence of news and conversation in daily life about government, politics, and civic
events makes this a prime time to ratchet up civics education.”7 That said, it is critical that educators pause, plan, enumerate clear objectives, and tie those objectives to state standards before proceeding.
3. Communicate with stakeholders ahead of time. The first time a school administration learns what a teacher is covering in class should not be when a parent calls to complain about it. Rather, administration should be clued into curricular decisions from the beginning of the school year, and regular updates are encouraged. Further, at a time when it would be understandable to want to “fly under the radar” or shrink away from outreach, transparency and communication should prevail. We encourage educators to invite parents/ guardians and others into the classroom, if only virtually through regular newsletters and other proactive forms of communication.
Michael Martirone discusses constitutional rules and the election process with his students at Egg Harbor Township High School in New Jersey. (Credit: iCivics.org)
4. Adopt an inquiry-based approach, even if it is loosely or informally applied. Some of the best questions in civics and history offer no clear answers. Still, the literature is clear: Students should approach civics and history through formative inquiry-based pedagogy.8 It allows for a deep understanding of civic knowledge; the acquisition of civic skills (i.e., evidence-based reading, argumentative writing, and civil discourse); and the cultivation of civic dispositions and behaviors. Not every aspect of instruction must come in the form of multi-layered deep inquiries, but everyone is better served if students are provided opportunities to grapple with real and relevant questions.
5. Use primary sources, secondary readings, and/or digital media as “grounding texts.” One reliable way to guarantee that a classroom discussion will be rife with personal opinions, partisan talking points, and other non-constructive content is to introduce a topic or question without first grounding the class in a shared text. It is also a sure-fire way to guarantee that only a couple of students will participate. For these reasons, lessons should be anchored in some degree of shared understanding, which can be provided in some form of text or digital media. Students can then refer to and draw evidence from the source when making their claims.
6. Lean into structure and process for civics and government. One of the best—and worst aspects—of teaching civics or government is that many of the concepts are structural or procedural if not also abstract. Of course, at the same time, most of the concepts are not straightforward; they are complex and controversial. But educators can always start with the dryer, less emotionally-laden parts and then move to the complex and more controversial ones when they are more comfortable or the timing feels right. If the headlines are too heavy, teachers are wise to “stick to the textbook” and then revisit the concepts in a deeper way at a later time.
7. Use historical examples instead of current ones. Time is a salve. Leveraging historical examples allows us to examine important concepts and controversies surrounding them without the partisan preferences and emotions that often accompany more recent or current controversies. It’s hard for a teacher to get all worked up over recalling that President Truman seized control of the steel mills to prevent a devastating strike that would disrupt military production during the Korean War, even if it does seem like an overreach of executive power. It’s safe to assume the school children of America will not either.
8. Build compare and contrast skills by asking students to distinguish between typical and not typical current events. The more they examine historical examples, the more students will be able to evaluate current ones through their developing historical lens. “How did the other branches respond during historical crises?” “How is that different from what is happening now?” These are not value judgments. Rather, they are evaluations of difference and of change.
9. Try to direct students to focus on the office or institution, not the person or party. One way to begin rebuilding the fabric of a nation torn apart by rampant partisanship is to focus not on the individual, be it King George, Barack Obama, or Donald Trump, but rather on the branch, the office, or the position. Put another way, the question for students to ponder is not, “Should President Trump have the power to do X?” but rather (and written more appropriately), “Based on your understanding of the Constitution, is it constitutional for the president to do X?” America needs citizens who can identify and condemn usurpations of power regardless of their opinion of the person who makes them, but they must be encouraged and taught to do so.
10. Demonstrate intellectual humility. The most veteran teachers regularly and confidently respond to students by saying, “That’s a great
question. I don’t know.” First, it models for students the all-too-important but increasingly infrequent disposition of not always assuming one is right and being open to persuasion or, at least, entertaining another point of view. Second, it allows time for the teacher to look into the issue or, better yet, encourage the students to do so: “I don’t know, but I bet we can figure it out together.” And whenever possible, teachers should follow students’ leads—they are curious, and that is a gift! In highlighting the difficulty of this moment for teachers, let us not forget the significant silver lining: Students are more interested in this discipline than ever before, at least in recent memory.9 Just remember that their interest need not always be met in the moment; it is okay to table the discussion or exploration for another day when you are more prepared, and they, perhaps, less emotional. Just be sure to actually come back to it, to maintain student trust.
I have always been touched by the closing of the Declaration of Independence. When covering it with students, I would take the time to ensure they understood what this meant—what the stakes were and what the signers were risking: “And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.” The words hit a little differently these days, and it seems fair to wonder if the social studies teachers of America are taking a similar risk simply by teaching the themes embedded in this very document. For some, it surely feels like they are risking, perhaps not their lives, but certainly their jobs and reputations. I know this because they have told me so. We cannot have that. The great experiment that is the American republic will ultimately fail if its guardians, our nation’s civics and history teachers, are unable to do their jobs with full fidelity to their mission. The good news is that our nation’s civics and history teachers can teach hard things. In fact, they always have.
Notes
1. Dana Goldstein, “How Politics Is Changing the Way History Is Taught,” The New York Times, Oct. 27, 2025.
2. Ashley Woo, Melissa Kay Diliberti, and Elizabeth D. Steiner, Policies Restricting Teaching About Race and Gender Spill Over into Other States and Localities: Findings from the 2023 State of the American Teacher Survey, RR-A1108-10 (RAND Corporation, 2024), www.rand.org/pubs/research_reports/ RRA1108-10.html.
3. Christopher Martell, Kaylene Stevens, and Erin Fife, “‘It Has a Chilling Effect’: How Secondary Social Studies Teachers Across the Country Are Navigating Discriminatory Censorship Laws,” Journal of Curriculum and Pedagogy (2025), doi:10.1080/15505170.2025.2549839.
4. J. Cameron Anglum and Anita Manion, “Perceptions of US Public Schools’ Political Leanings and the Federal Role in Education,” Brookings Institution, June 17, 2025, www. brookings.edu/articles/perceptions-of-us-public-schoolspolitical-leanings-and-the-federal-role-in-education; Sarah D. Sparks, “Teachers Value ‘Patriotic’ Education More Than Most Americans,” Education Week, Nov. 5, 2025; American Historical Association, American Lesson Plan: Teaching US History in Secondary Schools (American Historical Association, 2024), www.historians.org/ teaching-learning/k-12-education/american-lesson-plan.
5. iCivics Education, We Can Teach Hard Things, https:// vision.icivics.org/we-can-teach-hard-things.
6. Educating for American Democracy (EAD), “Roadmap to Educating for American Democracy” (iCivics, March 2, 2021), www.educatingforamericandemocracy.org/theroadmap
7. Alina Tugend, “Civics Education Struggles, Even as Government and Politics Saturate Daily Life,” New York Times, Oct. 7, 2025.
8. S. G. Grant, Kathy Swan, and John Lee, Inquiry-Based Practice in Social Studies Education: Understanding the Inquiry Design Model, 1st ed. (Routledge, 2017), doi:10.4324/9781315170541.
9. Mark Walsh, “A Hands-On Lesson in Civics Sees Surging Student Interest in the Age of Trump,” Education Week, Aug. 1, 2025.
Emma Humphries is the Chief Education Officer for iCivics, where she leads their organizational research agenda, serves as a leading brand ambassador, and ensures the academic integrity of all instructional materials.
Teaching the C3 Framework
Channeling Frustration Toward Action: How Student-Led Inquiry Can Empower Students as Change-Agents
Davis Harper
In the spring of 2023, tragedy struck the high school where I taught a local civic education elective class called Social Issues. Just before the school day ended, students exchanged gunfire on a nature trail just behind campus. Our school went into lockdown procedures for two hours, trapping students in their classrooms through the final bell as increasingly morbid rumors swirled. Though we didn’t know it at the time, one student would die and another would suffer injuries related to the shooting. The site of the shooting, a few hundred feet from where my students and I sat, remained a crime scene past midnight.
At 9am the next day, we were back at school. As far as anyone knew, the school day would proceed as normal. Then, as second period wrapped up, another interruption: a second lockdown was announced, as police pursued a tip that more weapons might be stashed nearby. I had just finished a makeshift restorative circle where my Social Issues students shared their feelings related to the shooting, the aftermath, and the school’s response. Coping mechanisms varied wildly, as did my ability to hold space for them. Some students expressed genuine
fear for their safety. Others deflected with humor and cynicism. Some had played football with the victims; others had judged them from a distance. Frustration abounded: with the shooters, with gun violence, with the distraction it created for students, and with the school for seeming to pretend it hadn’t happened. Now the school was entering a second lockdown. I noticed the energy shifting in the room; not only did students feel it was cold and uncaring to be in school after the shooting—it was dangerous, too.
In the lockdown lull, a few
students created and circulated a rough Google Forms petition demanding a day off from school, both to give students a chance to step away to heal as well as raise awareness about gun violence’s ripple effect on the greater school community. Within hours, it had 400 signatures. By that evening, it was in the inbox of district leadership. Days later, the district announced a mental health day for our school, with mental health services offered to students and teachers who needed them.
As a teacher who always encouraged students to ask critical questions of the world around them, I sensed an opportunity. When we returned to school, I offered to supplement my curriculum if the students wanted to expand the petition. We could formulate a plan, identify goals and targets, and execute a collective local action project. Students responded enthusiastically.
However, while we shared a common catalyzing event, our potential solutions varied. Students wanted to simultaneously raise awareness, ban guns, defuse community violence, establish peer-mentor programs, ramp up school security, and increase school counselors.
At this point, our class reached an impasse many educators face when conducting action-based, student-led projects. The decision to launch the project had been a swirl of excitement; now came the crucial moment in which we would pick one goal from many. To facilitate this, I provided some background on various issues, decision-makers, and activists related to our broader issue: student mental health and elected school board members, for example, and youth gun violence and violence interruption groups. Ultimately, students decided that our school district needed to make student mental health a greater priority. But could they, as a group of students, channel their frustration and push the district to act?
Spoiler alert: They could. As this article will demonstrate, this loosely affiliated group of students gradually morphed into an organized movement over the course of the semester. Along the way, they advocated, agitated, and ultimately achieved long-term structural change to the district policies around student mental health. While the process was organic, halting, and messy, it always effused a sense of student excitement and agency. I hope
that recounting their work will resonate with other studentcentered, culturally responsive critical educators interested in pedagogies of hope and community solidarity.1
Further, I believe the fundamental structure of what we executed is generalizable. To demonstrate how, I adapted the student-led inquiry framework using the Inquiry Design Model (IDM) to frame my thinking. The inquiry design presented in the following sections positions students as tone-setters, with the teacher serving merely to nudge student thinking.2
The blueprint I developed focuses on civics, student advocacy, and mental health. The compelling question for my inquiry is, “How can I channel my emotions to make a difference?” I structured my inquiry design thinking around three supporting questions to guide students through the process of channeling their emotions collectively and productively. First, students explore past organizing efforts to gain inspiration. Next, they investigate what is possible to change in their context. Finally, students practice ways to amplify their voices and demand change. The ultimate goal is for students to take informed action by addressing decision-makers and advocating for change. The inquiry is available online at https:// c3teachers.org/inquiries/ student-advocacy
Staging the Inquiry
Fortunately, most situations will not provide the type of catalyzing event we experienced at
our school. In lieu of that, I suggest that teachers invite students to think about and share a time when they had a strong reaction to an event that happened in their school community. Ask them to consider why they felt invested, how it affected them, and whether they considered doing something about it. With students, teachers can work to identify commonalities, understand the political context, and, eventually, identify an aspect of the problem they would like to address over the life of the inquiry.
Supporting Question #1:
What inspiration can we draw from past efforts?
Students set about answering this first supporting question by engaging with featured historical or contemporary examples of young people fighting to address injustice. From these sources, which could take the form of written reports, documentaries, or invited guest speakers, students will learn how and why previous efforts succeeded. The goal here is to instill confidence and a sense of possibility in students, the feeling that their ideas and actions could make a difference.
The students in my class were not experienced peer leaders, and none had ever participated in political or community advocacy. For that reason, I knew it would be vital to share examples that emphasized young people who channeled their frustration into a productive struggle. To do that, we
screened two films: Walkout, a retelling of the 1968 Chicano student protests in East Los Angeles;3 and Homeroom, a documentary about the 2020 student-led effort to remove police from the Oakland Unified School District.4
These films energized students, but neither film laid out the explicit, sometimes tedious steps needed for students to achieve their targets. To help us out, I invited a local community activist to the classroom to offer his experience and expertise. From this conversation, students learned that just because they agreed on what they saw as the problem, didn’t mean that everyone saw it that way. The activist reminded them: There are a lot of students out there, and even more folks who have a stake in schools. While you can’t speak for them, you can speak with them. He
advised distributing a survey to the local community with a list of potential goals.
After learning the basics on how to create and distribute a survey, the students drafted their own. A student translated it to Spanish, another formatted it on Google Forms, and the rest of the class spent the next days distributing it. Six hundred responses later, an overwhelming majority—more than 90%—of respondents endorsed more mental health services at school, and more mental health days off from school.
Supporting Question #2: What is feasible for us to change?
To answer this supporting question, students should mix an understanding of policy and community need to arrive at goals that are ambitious but possible. They can analyze
survey responses or other community feedback, research policies related to their issue, and confer with local decisionmakers. From this, they can establish defined goals.
Eventually, my students closed the survey. The overwhelming support in the survey for mental health-related absences and resources gave them clear direction. However, they—and I—had no idea if change was realistic. Could a group of students feasibly hope to trigger an overhaul of district or state policy on these issues? Together, we examined state documents to understand educational funding and policies writ large. Still, local discrepancies remained in question. For example, one of the group’s tentative goals aimed to win excused “mental health days” for students, based on an
Durham County Public Schools Superintendent Pascal Mubenga visits with Harper's students in spring 2023.
Illinois policy that went into effect in 2022.5 Our state, however, mandated 185 days of instruction per year.6 Did the district enforce that rule? If so, was there any wiggle room?
To find out, students capitalized on a visit from two of our district’s school board members, who joined our group after hearing about our survey. Students greeted them with sound research and pointed questions, which flipped the typical guest speaker-student dynamic on its head. Students wanted to know: What had the district promised to do about student mental health? Why wasn’t more being done? Where in the budget was there room to maneuver? And, if we fight for this, will you support us?
From that meeting, students discovered the state granted the district five budgeted emergency absence days per year, ostensibly to be used in cases of inclement weather. In late February, none had been used that school year. Students had been arguing throughout the project that student mental health was nothing if not an emergency. That sparked their first defined goal: five days for student mental health.
Students also wanted more resources dedicated to mental health inside the school. To discover what those resources and services might look like, we met with two local experts: a local psychologist who worked as a district trauma response counselor, and the school wellbeing director of the district’s nonprofit arm. These visitors
offered valuable insight into not only how trauma impacts young people, but ways in which schools could address student mental health strain.
Supporting Question #3:
What can we do to be heard?
Students can answer this question by discovering and implementing ways to amplify their voices. This may take the form of petition creation and distribution, engaging with social media and traditional media outreach, or other community engagement strategies.
From our meeting with the community organizer, students understood the long-shot odds. Though they were 22 students strong, with hundreds more offering tacit support through the survey, they lacked the political clout to directly influence district policy. They would need wider support. To summon it, one team of students began drumming up support on social media, creating an official group account to share updates made by another art and design team. Another team, media outreach, drafted and sent emails to all the local news stations and education reporters in the area.
To everyone’s surprise, a local station dispatched a crew to document the effort. The class nominated five students to be spokespeople for the cause. The rest of the class helped refine the message. Talk swirled about the need to resist normalizing tragedies, the need for more support in times of crisis, and asking the district to treat
student mental health as the emergency students knew it to be. Later that day, students saw themselves on the 5 o’clock news. Many others did, too. Students rode the wave of enthusiasm into the next weeks, during which time the primary aim was creating and circulating a petition, a tool they had seen deployed in the documentaries. One group of students designed paper and digital formats, with another researching statistics to add, and another translated it to Spanish. An outreach group, equipped with clipboards, fanned out around the school and beyond to gather signatures. Every day, students updated the overall count, set ambitious goals, and buoyed each other’s enthusiasm.
The Summative Performance Task: Confronting the School Board
The summative task is broadly defined by the students addressing those in power to share their concerns and advocate for the change toward which they have been working. Students may extend this effort by creating projects to solidify the legacy of their work and raise awareness of the value of student advocacy in general.
As our petition circulated, students attended the next district board meeting. Nine students volunteered to share their demands, with the rest of the class showing support. Those students wrote, practiced, and revised their speeches, each highlighting a different aspect of
our effort. On a Thursday in late April, the group assembled at district headquarters in matching shirts designed by our art team and screenprinted by another student. The students’ speeches were amplified in the spillover hallway by hollers of support. The cynicism and hopelessness were long gone, replaced by a blissful sense of accomplishment.
Whatever the board ultimately decided, this felt like success. About a week later, they would have their answer when our school principal and district superintendent dropped into our class. The superintendent applauded students’ efforts, and told them that it was the kind of self-starting attitude more young people should
have. The room held its collective breath. Would the effort end here, with polite remarks?
To everyone’s surprise, the superintendent then made his offer: Two dedicated, in-school mental health days for all 33,000 students in the district, and a recommitment to district-provided mental health resources. Schools would
How can I channel my emotions to make a difference?
Standards and Content Angle
Staging the Compelling Question
CL.H.1.6 Exemplify ways individuals have demonstrated resistance and resilience to inequities, injustice, and discrimination within the American system of government over time.
Invite students to think about and share a time when they had a strong reaction to an event that happened in their school community.
Supporting Question 1
What inspiration can we draw from past efforts?
Supporting Question 3
What is feasible for us to change? What can we do to be heard?
Complete a graphic organizer analyzing the efforts taken in the past student advocacy efforts under consideration.
Source A: Pair of ABC11 Eyewitness News articles documenting efforts of Durham Public Schools Students for Mental Health. Article 1 | Article 2
Source B: Additional example(s) of past student advocacy, as relevant. Possible sources include Homeroom (documentary); Walkout (film); 7 Times in History When Students Turned to Activism (New York Times article)
Summative Performance Task
Taking Informed Action
Construct a list of clarifying interview questions for a local decision-maker responsible for executing policy around the chosen issue.
Source A: Teacher-selected resources on policies related to an identified issue (i.e., school district’s mental health resources page).
Source B: Teacher-selected resources related to a local decision-maker who influences the issue students identify (i.e., a school board member’s candidate questionnaires).
Design and draft a social media account (or post) that advocates for change to the identified issue.
Source B: Americans’ view of and experience with activism on social media (Pew Research Center)
ARGUMENT: Students will respond to the compelling question by writing a short reflective essay, documenting their experience learning about past student advocacy and engaging in hypothetical advocacy work.
EXTENSION: Break into small groups and create short Public Service Announcement (PSA) videos or podcasts that spread awareness among fellow students for how student advocacy happens in practice.
ACT: Address the decision-makers who influence the issue of interest, advocating for real policy change related to that issue.
This IDM is available online at https://c3teachers.org/inquiries/student-advocacy.
Source A: Can social media activism actually work? (PBS Voices)
be allowed to structure the mental health days, but would be encouraged to avoid new content instruction. Instead, they would focus on counseling services, social emotional learning, extended advising, community-based projects, and similar activities. The students haltingly began to negotiate, but quickly gave up. As soon as the leaders left, the students launched an impromptu celebratory dance party.
Students soon extended their work. With the time left in class, students split into new groups and launched a series of smaller projects aimed at cementing a legacy. One group
produced a short documentary for posterity. Another designed a banner that would hang in the school’s main office. Another created “mailboxes” to hang outside the counselor’s office, where students could anonymously report concerns. Another wrote up a proposal for a “Students for Mental Health” club. As the semester wrapped up, students held a public expo in the school’s lobby to share their work.
Three months on from the violence which had rocked our school community, those who participated in [Durham Public Schools] Students for Mental Health could look back and
see not only hopelessness, but hope; not only frustration, but joy; not only tragedy, but triumph.
I hope that our experience may serve as a testament to the value of student-led, community-centered inquiry. In pursuit of building authentic inquiry experiences, we can embrace moments of organic, studentled curiosity and turn them into structured learning opportunities. This is when remarkable things can happen. My classroom experiences—even as they were born from moments of tragedy—were a launching pad for inquiry design. I urge other educators to reflect on
Davis Harper and his students pose for a photo after attending a Durham County School Board meeting in spring 2023.
their own spontaneous successes and the passions of their students. Consider how you might use these authentic, realworld moments to design your own inquiry-based projects, allowing your students’ natural curiosity to lead the way toward meaningful and transformative learning.
Notes
1. Darren Webb, “Pedagogies of Hope,” Studies in Philosophy and Education 32, no. 4 (2013): 397-414; Rubén A. Gaztambide-Fernández, “Decolonization and the Pedagogy of Solidarity,” Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society 1, no. 1 (2012): 41–67.
2. Kathy Swan, S. G. Grant, and John Lee, Blueprinting an Inquiry-Based Curriculum: Planning with the Inquiry Design Model (NCSS, 2019).
3. Amy Goodman, “Walkout: The True Story of the Historic 1968 Chicano Student Walkout in East L.A,” Democracy Now, March 29, 2006.
4. Tony Daquipa, “‘Homeroom’ Documentary Highlights Youth Activism in Oakland and Gives a Sense of Hope,” Oakland Voices, Aug. 20, 2021.
5. Jonathan Franklin, “Kids in Illinois will Soon be Able to Take 5 Mental Health Days from School,” NPR, Sept. 2, 2021.
6. NC Department of Public Instruction, “School Calendar Requirements,” School Calendar Legislation, www. dpi.nc.gov/districts-schools/ district-operations/financialand-business-services/schoolcalendar-requirements
Davis Harper is a former teacher and current doctoral student in social studies teacher education at North Carolina State University. His research asks how social studies classrooms can be spaces that connect students to their communities, raise critical consciousness, and offer transformative learning experiences.
Kathy Swan (University of Kentucky), John Lee (North Carolina State Univer-sity), and S.G. Grant (Binghamton University) are the editors of the Teaching the C3 Framework column. Kathy, John, and S.G. have worked as leaders and writers in the C3 Framework project and know first-hand the critical role teachers play in the imple-mentation and realization of the C3 goals. Their work extends beyond the C3 into teacher education and preparing new teachers to tackle the challenges of teaching social studies in the 21st century.
What Does It Mean to Be Community-Rooted and Responsive in Civics/ Social Studies Classrooms?
Asif Wilson, Rebecca Coven, and Rubi Mendez
In this paper, we—a former high school student (Rubi), her civics instructor (Rebecca), and a university professor and researcher (Asif)—examine how inquiry-to-action teaching and learning experiences grounded in local, student-relevant issues support students’ learning and agency. Drawing on conceptualizations of community-rooted and responsive civics education and our individual and collective experiences, we present the stories of a teacher and student working together to critically read and rewrite their worlds.
For us and others studying civics education, this focus on the local and on what is meaningful to students, while not entirely isolated, represents a fairly emergent idea. Most civics education in K-12 schools focus on personal development, encouraging young people to vote, pay taxes, donate to charity, and uphold society as is.1 These deficit notions position young people, particularly young people in working-class communities of color, as civically disengaged and disadvantaged.2 As a result of these deficit notions, civics education often attempts to fill empty vessels (the students) with skills and knowledge that aim to increase their civic responsibilities and actions. To offer a more asset-based and transformative framing of civics education, we draw on conceptions of civics education as a community-rooted and responsive practice.
Defining a Community-Rooted and Responsive Civics Education
A number of studies have pointed to the ways that traditional notions of civics education fail to recognize local communities, and the assets within them, as (con)texts to be inquired about, analyzed, and transformed.3 As such, we define communityrooted and responsive education as a characteristic of civics pedagogy that shares power with students to investigate and act on their local worlds.4 This conceptualization of teacher practice identifies and utilizes the community-based assets in these inquiries and actions. In this sense, a community-rooted and responsive civics education encourages students and their teachers to utilize local stories, sources, and analyses relative to students’ lives as curriculum that facilitates inquiry and action.
Traditional outcomes of civics education are often framed around individual participation in governmental structures.5 A community-rooted and responsive civics education, in contrast, is bound in the understanding that systems, not people, create inequities. It addresses present-day systemic inequities by building upon the ideas, analyses, and actions of local movements. Take, for example, Chicago, home to countless social movements. Organizations like the Illinois Chapter of the Black Panther Party and the Young Lords Organization mobilized their communities for
better housing, education, and health care. This form of civics education provides students and teachers with the concepts and skills to name and transform inequities within systems and institutions.
The narratives that follow illuminate these expressed contours of civics education. In the first, Rebecca, a high school civics teacher in Chicago, details the importance of rooted pedagogical practice. Rubi, a student in Rebecca’s class, demonstrates the outcomes of that practice. Each narrative is told in first person to provide more vivid and personal accounts of practice. We hope they remind civics educators of the process and potential outcomes of more rooted and responsive civics teaching and learning. While Asif does not have a dedicated section, his analyses as a pre-service social studies teacher educator are included as part of the collectively-authored implications that follow.
Rebecca: Teaching With and Through Community
When I first moved to Chicago to teach social studies, I received pushback from my students when using the same practices and curricula that I had used successfully in West Philadelphia for years. Students shut down and disengaged from learning, vocally expressing their dislike for the work we were doing and the way I ran our classroom. And while this surprised me and even bruised my ego at first, they were right to push back. I was a white educator, new to their city and neighborhood, trying to teach their history without truly knowing it. My practices from Philadelphia didn’t translate; I needed to do my own inquiry into my students’ communities before I could build a responsive curriculum with my students.
The nonpartisan nonprofit organization Mikva Challenge ( www.mikvachallenge.org ) helped me engage in this necessary inquiry. Mikva Challenge provides resources and support to educators, partners, and community leaders to amplify youth voices through civic engagement ( teach.mikvachallenge.org ). Using Mikva Challenge’s Issues to Action (ITA) curriculum (free for educators in Illinois, where the
organization was founded, and in Washington D.C.; otherwise available for purchase) helped me see that my students, their families, and caregivers are excellent conduits of community and cultural wealth. They already possess a wide array of knowledge, skills, abilities, and experiences that they learned outside of the classroom walls and that help them become civically engaged. These are skills that I try to uplift and build on in my classroom. But in order to engage in true community-rooted and responsive civics education, I myself had a responsibility to develop and sustain relationships with the community I was working in and that my students lived in. I could not solely rely on my students and their families for these relationships.
I firmly believe that my work as an organizer— and particularly my work organizing with my local teachers union—made me a better, more community-rooted and responsive educator. As I learned from and worked in solidarity with organizers and local leaders in the community that my students lived in, I developed an understanding of the systems and movements that had shaped my students, their families, and their communities over time. This then became the foundation of our curriculum, and I was able to bring my work in the community into my relationships with students. For example, during our unit on mass incarceration, I brought in community leaders who I organized with to speak with students about their work on restorative justice with young people impacted by the criminal legal system. I also developed units about migration and immigrant-led movements in our neighborhood. In doing this, students were able to connect their learning in our classroom to their community and to see how they could have direct impacts themselves. We used Mikva Challenge’s lessons (ITA Lessons 3.2 Root Causes and 3.4 Connecting Root Causes to the Ecological Model at www.teach. mikvachallenge.org ) to analyze root causes of issues in the community (Figure 1) and then to connect with people in the community working to address these root causes (Figure 2).
Something else I had to unpack—both for myself and with students—was the idea that systems are not necessarily harmful. Through a project rooted in Mikva Challenge’s Community Mapping Resource (ITA Lesson 1.17 Community Mapping), which I modified to more explicitly name and center Yosso’s framework (Figure 3), 6 my students and I explored the assets in our community that support people, care for them, and step up when systems fail to meet our needs. Students engaged in community asset mapping walks in the neighborhood and conducted interviews with members of their community, culminating in an audio walking tour of their neighborhood.
Through this work, I learned that teaching with and through community meant building strong relationships with students and grounding curriculum in the assets, movements, and collective wisdom of the communities where they live.
Rubi: A Student’s Perspective on Transforming Not Transcending Community I was born and raised in Rogers Park, a diverse working-class neighborhood on the far northside of Chicago. During my sophomore year of high school, I took a humanities course that
Figure 1. Student example of Root Cause Tree graphic organizer (Issues to Action Lesson 3.2).
Figure 2. Student example of Ecological Model graphic organizer (Issues to Action Lesson 3.4).
Figure 3. Community asset graphic organizer (Issues to Action Lesson 1.17).
felt different from my other classes. I was used to classes focused on writing five-paragraph essays, grammar checks, and rote memorization of dates from textbooks older than me.
But in this class, we started each day sitting in a circle to check in and build community. We examined our own identities to understand how it shaped our learning. We weren’t just learning about historical events, but learning about why they happened and how we can take collective action. This was only possible because we built trust with one another and created a safe space for us to share our reflections about topics we were learning about.
An example of this was when we created our own version of Nikole Hannah Jones’s 1619 Project.7 Our magazine (Figure 4) examined how the racial hierarchy that was created during slavery still impacts our systems in Rogers Park today, such as mass incarceration, infrastructure, the wealth gap, and healthcare access. In order to produce the final magazine, we all had to communicate and work together across magazine production teams. It felt like the power was in our hands to be the teachers in the classroom.
my mind to the different ways organizations are taking up issues like art, mutual aid, grassroots work, and legislative work.
The 1619 Project provided the historical context and facts of how policing is rooted in systemic racism. So during summer break, amid the nationwide 2020 Black Lives Matter Movement, I organized with my community to remove police from our school with the goal of redirecting the funds to services that would benefit students, such as a restorative justice program. During this time, I was able to engage with different community groups and members to organize alongside them and supportive teachers. I also learned from students across the city about how they were taking up the fight to remove police from Chicago Public Schools.
We used both secondary and primary sources, including interviews with peers, staff, and community organizations. I was able to hear their experiences and learn from their wealth of wisdom and experience. For example, my friend interviewed someone from Circles and Ciphers, a restorative justice organization in Rogers Park for young people impacted by violence (https:// circlesandciphers.org). Hearing about their mission made me think about all the organizations in the community I had not heard of yet. It opened
After organizing that summer, I was committed to making change that is rooted in community and building a different world. I founded a social justice club at school so students could organize against unfair policies and connect with local organizations. After graduation, I became a mentor for a program that brought together youth from different parts of the city to learn how to organize in their communities. In college, where I am studying to become a teacher, I also organized around divestment from weapons manufacturers and solidarity for human rights in the Philippines.
As a future educator, I think about my own experience as a student to guide the pedagogies that I want to uplift in my classroom. Communities are important to schools and are resources of knowledge to understand the context and conditions of the neighborhood and also the history of resilience and power within them.
Why This Matters?
The narratives shared in this article offer more than just personal reflection; they surface key insights into what can come of a communityrooted and responsive approach to civics education, and what it requires of educators. Rubi’s story illustrates how community-rooted and responsive learning shaped how she saw herself, her community, and her role in transforming it. Through community-rooted learning, Rubi encountered the power of people responding to systems that had failed them. She engaged in inquiry that was
Figure 4. Cover of 1619 Project class-created magazine.
personal, collective, and purposeful. What began as a class project became a launching point for her civic engagement, shaping her college and career aspirations. For Rubi, success was not about transcending her community—it was about transforming it.
Rebecca’s reflection highlights the essential role of educators in creating the conditions for such transformation. Her experience underscores that supporting student learning in this way requires educators to see themselves as part of, not apart from, the communities in which they teach. Relationships with students are essential, but they are not enough. To teach in a way that is truly community-rooted and responsive, Rebecca had to widen her relationships—to caregivers, community memberships, and local movements—and see herself not just as a teacher in a classroom, but as a participant in a broader web of accountability and care. No two communities are the same, and educators must do the work to learn with and from the communities they serve. Together, these stories offer several implications and calls to action for K-12 social studies and civics educators:
• Contextualize, don’t supplant. No curriculum can be copied and pasted from one place to another. Root your curriculum in the his/ herstories, experiences, struggles and possibilities of your local context. We are not proposing this as an individual endeavor, but a collective endeavor that you engage in with your students, their families, and communities.
• Engage in your own inquiry. Relationships with students matter, but these relationships on their own are not enough. As an educator, build relationships with caregivers, community leaders, and organizers to deepen your understanding of community-based knowledge and ongoing struggles for justice.
• Support students in locating and learning from the people, movements, and assets in their communities. Make students’ lives and communities the texts to be inquired about, analyzed, and acted upon. Encourage students to investigate the assets, histories, and
challenges in their own communities—not as case studies of deficiency, but as sites of possibility and power.
• Create opportunities for students to evaluate systems of power and oppression—and to learn about the people and movements who have challenged them. Center stories of resistance and people power that illuminate the collective, especially in communities that are too often framed solely through harm or deficit. These models may resonate more strongly with students in ways that build their confidence, their agency to create change, and their relationships to sustain their activism.
• Recognize educators as co-learners and power-holders. Teaching community-rooted and responsive civics requires reflective practice. As an educator, see yourself as both part of the community and as a conduit of institutional power who can open pathways for justice-oriented education.
Additional Resources
• Community and Cultural Wealth in Social Studies (video), https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=zMypAzwdERM
• Mikva Challenge’s curricula (free for educators in Illinois and Washington D.C.; otherwise available for purchase), https://teach.mikvachallenge.org
• Teaching Civics for Justice Illinois Community Rooted and Responsive Video, https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=d86C_aS1es8
• Teaching Civics for Justice Illinois professional learning, https://illinois.catalog.instructure.com/browse/collegeof-education/i3/courses/tcji
• Let Them Lead: Teaching Civics for Justice (documentary), https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=utq8KiceZZE
The Rule of Law and an Independent Judiciary: Cornerstones of Business Success, Economic Development, and the American Dream
Michael E. Flowers
In successful societies, the link between legal institutions and economic performance is undeniable. The rule of law and an independent judiciary form the bedrock upon which thriving economies are built. For businesses, these legal foundations provide the stability, predictability, and fairness necessary to operate and grow. Around the globe, countries that uphold these principles tend to experience greater investment, innovation, and prosperity. Conversely, where the rule of law is weak or judicial independence is compromised, economic stagnation, corruption, and instability often follow.
This article explores how the rule of law and judicial independence are indispensable to business success and economic development, which, in turn, contribute to an environment in which individuals can pursue their version of the American Dream.
Understanding the Rule of Law and Judicial Independence
Before exploring the importance of the rule of law and judicial independence for business and economics, it is first helpful to clarify these concepts.
The Rule of Law
The World Justice Project—a leading independent, nonprofit, organization that has for nearly 20 years worked to advance the rule of law around the world—defines the rule of law as “a durable system of laws, institutions, norms, and community commitment that delivers four universal principles: (1) accountability, (2) just law, (3) open government, and (4) accessible and impartial justice.”1
So, what do these four principles really mean?
• “Accountability” means that government officials and private actors are answerable under the law and subject to effective oversight, transparency requirements, and consequences for misconduct.
• “Just Law” means that laws are clear, publicized, stable, and applied evenly.
• “Open Government” means that the processes for adopting, administering, adjudicating, and enforcing the laws are accessible, fair, transparent, and efficient.
• “Accessible and Impartial Justice” means that justice is delivered in a timely manner by competent, ethical, and
trademarks, and copyrights— key drivers of the innovation economy.
Countries with weak property rights often struggle to attract capital or support entrepreneurial ventures. Investors are hesitant to commit resources where expropriation or arbitrary seizure are a threat.
4. Anti-Corruption and Fair Competition
Corruption undermines market fairness and deters honest competition. When bribes or political connections are needed to secure licenses, win contracts, or resolve disputes, efficient and fair markets collapse.
An independent judiciary can check corruption by holding officials accountable and ensuring that laws are applied impartially.
The Economic Benefits of the Rule of Law and Judicial Independence
Societies with strong rule of law traditions and independent judiciary create not only an atmosphere for economic freedom for their own citizens, but the stability of these systems also attract investment from around the world.
1. Attraction of Foreign Direct Investment
One of the clearest links between the rule of law and judicial independence and economic development is foreign investment. Investors from abroad typically seek countries where their investments will be protected by a stable and impartial legal system.
In countries like the United States, the credibility of the
legal system is a major draw for foreign capital. Investors know that if disputes arise, they can turn to a fair, professional court system.
Conversely, in jurisdictions where people perceive the judiciary as biased or beholden to political authorities, foreign direct investment tends to be lower, even if other economic indicators appear favorable.
2. Support for Entrepreneurship and Innovation
A fair legal system is crucial for startups and entrepreneurs who often lack the resources to navigate informal systems or secure “favors.” Independent courts offer a venue for smaller actors to defend their rights against larger competitors or government overreach.
Furthermore, robust legal protections for intellectual property, contracts, and business operations enable creativity and progress by ensuring that those who develop new ideas can profit from them. Global leadership of the United States in technology and entrepreneurship is partially attributable to its welldeveloped legal system that protects innovation through enforceable patents, copyrights, and anti-trust laws.
3. Lower Transaction Costs
When legal institutions are effective and impartial, businesses spend less time and money on enforcement, negotiation, and risk management. This efficiency improves overall productivity and reduces the costs of doing business.
From the World Justice Project, https://worldjusticeproject.org
Imagine a scenario where every contract needs personal guarantees or backup arbitration because the courts are unreliable. These additional layers of cost and complexity can deter smaller firms and inflate costs for larger ones. Independent courts reduce these burdens by providing a reliable dispute resolution mechanism. (Think about how this works in your own life. How often do you read every word of any agreement you might sign—such as for a credit card or other legal paperwork? People usually breeze past them on the assumption that everything included is fairly standard legal language that is not going to result in disaster for the consumer—although that can happen.)
Global Challenges to Judicial Independence and Rule of Law
Despite their importance, both the rule of law and judicial independence are under threat in various parts of the world— including, at times, in the United States. Recent reports from the World Justice Project highlight a concerning trend: Rule of law has entered its eighth straight year in decline.3 Such erosion threatens to destabilize economies, diminish trust in government, and undermine basic human rights. As geopolitical tensions escalate, the need to strengthen the rule of law is increasingly urgent to safeguard a just and stable future.
One important initiative that is underway to combat the
decline in the rule of law and to support the resilience of an independent judiciary is the Judicial Fellowship Program hosted by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce Foundation in partnership with the Presidential Precinct.4 Through this fellowship program, judges and magistrates from around the world are brought to the United States for a two-week professional exchange and residential learning experience designed to strengthen the legal systems in foreign countries by building a cadre of judicial leaders from around the world.
Political Interference
The executive and legislative branches of governments may attempt to influence court decisions through appointments,
funding threats, or direct intimidation. The U.S. Constitution has enshrined separation of powers among the branches of the government, and weakening that separation can undermine public trust and discourage both domestic and foreign investment.
Overloaded or Underfunded Court
Even without overt interference, courts that are underresourced or inefficient can become bottlenecks for economic development. Delayed justice or complex bureaucratic procedures increase the cost of legal recourse. Similarly, judges who fear retribution by leaders or members of the public may not be able to render justice fairly.
Corruption
In some systems, bribery or cronyism can distort judicial outcomes. When judges are beholden to wealthy or powerful patrons, it erodes public confidence in the system and deters honest businesses from entering or staying in the market. Maintaining judicial independence requires constant vigilance, robust legal and ethical safeguards, and a culture that respects institutional integrity.
Conclusion: Legal Institutions as Economic Advantages
The rule of law and judicial independence are not abstract ideals—they are practical necessities for economic development and business success. Just as roads, power grids, and digital networks support economic activity, so, too does a trustworthy legal system. It creates an environment where contracts are honored, property is secure, innovation is rewarded, and disputes are fairly resolved.
In the United States, these legal foundations have helped create one of the world’s most successful and resilient economies where individuals are free to pursue their version of the American Dream. Globally, the
same pattern holds: Countries that invest in their legal institutions attract more capital, nurture more innovation, and experience more stable growth. As businesses become increasingly global and interconnected, the need for impartial, effective legal systems becomes even more critical. Policymakers, investors, and entrepreneurs alike must recognize that the health of a nation’s judiciary is not just a matter of justice—it is a matter of economic survival and prosperity.
Notes
1. “What is the Rule of Law?” World Justice Project, https://worldjusticeproject.org/about-us/overview/ what-rule-law.
2. “Uniform Commercial Code,” Legal Information Institute, Cornell Law School. www.law.cornell.edu/ucc
3. “The Rule of Law has Declined Globally for the 8th Year in a Row,” https://worldjusticeproject.org/ rule-of-law-index/insights.
4. Judicial Fellowship Program, a project of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce Foundation and the Presidential Precinct, www. uschamberfoundation.org/ solutions/incubator/judicialfellowship-program, https:// presidentialprecinct.org/judicialfellowship-program
Michael E. Flowers is a member of Steptoe & Johnson PLLC, where he practices general corporate and commercial real estate law within the firm’s business law department. He is also the firm’s director of diversity and inclusion. He is a former chair of the Section of Business Law of the American Bar Association (ABA). He currently serves as the national chair for the 2026 Law Day observance by the ABA and is a member of the ABA House of Delegates representing the Ohio State Bar Association.
Note: Law Day is an annual commemoration, held on May 1, to reflect on the rule of law and its importance. The 2026 Law Day theme is “The Rule of Law and the American Dream.” It focuses attention on how the rule of law—the idea that no person is above the law—ensures the rights of the people to live their lives as freely as possible and to pursue the American Dream. This essay launches a conversation on this theme, and the American Bar Association invites people to visit lawday. org to find more resources and information about 2026 Law Day programs and activities.
Lessons on the Law is produced by the American Bar Association’s Division for Public Education, which works to advance public understanding of law. The ideas and opinions expressed herein are the authors’ own, and do not necessarily represent official positions of the American Bar Association, the ABA’s Board of Governors or House of Delegates, or the ABA Standing Committee on Public Education.
Sources and Strategies
Sparking Student Curiosity with Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information Photographs
Abigail Krolik
On April 15, 1943, Howard R. Hollem, a photographer for the Office of War Information, took the photographs featured here on two private farms in Olney, Maryland. At first glance, they may not immediately capture students’ interest, as they appear to be simple snapshots of farm life. However, the photos’ titles may prompt a double take and invite not only closer inspection, but also raise many questions.
Three Japanese-Americans from the Colorado River Relocation Center are being shown their new places of work by Sam Rice, former major league baseball player, owner of a chicken farm near Olney, Maryland. Left to right are William Kobayashi, his wife Betty; Mr. Rice and Giichi Omari. 1943 (Office Of War Information, Hollem, Howard R, photographer /Library of Congress)
The first two photos in this series share very similar titles/ captions: Three JapaneseAmericans from the Colorado River Relocation Center are being shown their new places of work by Sam Rice, former
Sam Rice, former major league baseball player, shows three Japanese-Americans who will work at his poultry farm near Olney, Maryland, the incubator house. The new arrivals came from the Colorado River Relocation Center. Shown left to right: Mr. Rice, Giichi Omari, Mrs. William Kobayashi and William Kobayashi. 1943 (Office Of War Information, Hollem, Howard R, photographer)
major league baseball player, owner of a chicken farm near Olney, Maryland (www.loc.gov/ item/2017697647; www.loc. gov/item/2017697648).
The title of the third photo follows a similar pattern: Mrs.
Mrs. Harold L. Ickes, wife of the Secretary of the Interior guides three newly-arrived JapaneseAmericans on a tour of the Ickes Farm near Olney, Maryland [when] the group have begun work [sic]. Shown left to right are: Mrs. Fred Kobayashi, Mrs. Ickes, Fred Kobayashi, Roy Kobayashi, and Robert Lymburner, superintendent of Ickes farm. 1943. (Office Of War Information, Hollem, Howard R, photographer)
Harold L. Ickes, wife of the Secretary of the Interior guides three newly arrived JapaneseAmericans on a tour of the Ickes Farm near Olney, Maryland [when] the group have begun work. Shown left to right are:
Mrs. Fred Kobayashi, Mrs. Ickes, Fred Kobayashi, Roy Kobayashi, and Robert Lymburner, superintendent of Ickes farm (www.loc. gov/item/2017697649).
All three lengthy titles give the viewer locations and names, but only hint at the larger story behind the images. Students may be curious about what brought together “relocated” Japanese Americans, the wife of a U.S. cabinet member, and the retired professional baseball player.
Two and a half months after Japan attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, drawing the United States into World War II, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, authorizing the military to force Japanese Americans from their homes and relocate them to internment camps. The War Relocation Authority (WRA) was established in March 1942 to oversee the process of “relocating” thousands of Japanese Americans. This was a controversial idea, even within Roosevelt’s administration.
Milton S. Eisenhower (brother of Dwight D. Eisenhower) was originally placed in charge of the WRA, but he resigned after only 90 days due to being “deeply troubled” by his assignment.1 Dillon Myers replaced Eisenhower and led the WRA through to its dissolution in 1946. In late 1944, the WRA was moved from the Office of War Information to the Department of the Interior, headed by Secretary Harold L. Ickes, another administration official who had publicly expressed misgivings about the
executive order.
Both Eisenhower and Myers strove to create programs that allowed Japanese American citizens—especially nisei, who were born in the United States—to leave the camps. These programs included measures intended to ease the widespread fears of state leaders and many non-Japanese Americans, such as background checks and a “loyalty questionnaire.” In April 1943, Secretary Ickes, his wife, and their neighbor, retired baseball player turned poultry farmer Sam Rice, participated in one such program by hiring workers from several internment camps to work on their farms.2 In doing so, they made a pointed and public stand in support of the internees.
Primary sources, such as these three photographs, can often be catalysts for sparking student curiosity and motivation to learn more about a given topic; and these have the potential to be an especially powerful launch pad. One student could be struck by some detail in the background, and another by the clothes worn by the subjects. Yet another student might become fascinated by missing information in the item record. Teachers can encourage students to follow their questions wherever they lead, fostering meaningful classroom discussions or research projects and adding context or information as needed.
Begin by dividing students into small groups and give each group one of the three
photographs to analyze. Allow plenty of time for students to study their image closely. Invite students to note details, reflections, and questions about their given photograph using the Primary Source Analysis Tool available for download on the Library’s website (www.loc.gov/ programs/teachers/gettingstarted-with-primary-sources/ guides). Ask: What stands out? What do you think is happening? What do you wonder? Students might be curious about what the people in the photo are doing or looking at, or what the personal relationships between each of them might be.
Next, provide them with the item record and the following timeline of events (printed on p. 51) from the JapaneseAmerican Internment Camps Newspapers, 1942-1946 digital collection (www.loc.gov/ collections/japanese-americaninternment-camp-newspapers/ articles-and-essays/timeline), and ask students to pinpoint where on the timeline their photo would fall. Students can underline words, dates, or phrases that stand out to them in the timeline and then select one or two that they would like to learn more about.
After spending time with their first photo and the timeline, allow students to explore the other photographs, either by having groups present their analyses to the class or through a gallery walk. Now, ask students to return to their notes on their Primary Source Analysis Tools and the timeline and to draft one or two research
questions that they would like to focus on. Some possible questions might include:
• Why were some people in the U.S. scared of Japanese Americans during World War II?
• What was everyday life like in the camps?
• Who was Sam Rice?
• Why did the Office of War Information take these photographs? Who was the intended audience?
• What did Japanese Americans think about internment?
Encourage them to think about how they might find answers to their questions. Ask what types of sources they could consult and which search terms might be helpful. Students can use a mix of
primary and secondary sources to fill in the blanks. For example, they could consult a textbook or encyclopedia to learn more about the War Relocation Authority or about baseball player Sam Rice. Additionally, students can use the primary source set, Japanese American Internment (www. loc.gov/classroom-materials/japanese-americaninternment), located on the Teachers Page of the Library of Congress website.
Newspapers from the time period can also help fill in missing details. Chronicling America ( www.loc.gov/collections/chronicling-america/ about-this-collection ), a free database of digitized historic newspapers, contains articles on this topic from various perspectives, including reports and interviews in newspapers published by incarcerated Japanese Americans. Please note, the articles sometimes use terms for people of Japanese heritage that may be unfamiliar, surprising, or derogatory. It may be appropriate to warn students about this.
To provide a local perspective on the featured photographs, give students this article from the Washington, D.C.–based newspaper Evening Star , “Japanese Americans Surprised by Warmth of Welcome at Olney”( www. loc.gov/resource/sn83045462/1943-0418/ed-1/?sp=3&st=image ). The article includes photos that are very similar to, but not exactly the same as, the ones they just examined, showing that this story received both media coverage and governmental documentation. The same event was recorded in many of the camp newspapers, such as this article from the Minidoka Irrigator , “Nisei Poultry Farmers from Poston Hired by Harold Ickes, Sam Rice” ( https://www.loc. gov/resource/sn84024049/1943-04-24/ ed-1/?sp=3&st=image ).
Students can read the articles and compare how the two different publications covered the story and consider how those differences affect the reader. To provide an oppositional perspective to the story, share this article from the newspaper Imperial Valley Press in El Centro, California, “Fathers Behind DeWitt Jap Stand,” (https://www. loc.gov/resource/sn92070146/1943-04-15/ ed-1/?sp=1&st=image), which describes the fear and prejudice held by many Americans during this
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FASSE
FUND for the ADVANCEMENT of SOCIAL STUDIES EDUCATION
