Navigating A Whackadoodle World: Episode 18, or Are They Trying to Keep Us Stupid?
A Whackadoodle discussion with my student in which we tackle her question, "Are they trying to keep us stupid?" And we discover, strangely enough, that the rule of focus applies to everything.
If you have enter this story in the middle, click here for the table of contents.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about last time when we talked about why schools teach the way they do, and something has been really bothering me,” she said as she sat down across from me.
“We can’t have you bothered,” I said, slapping the table. “So what’s up?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about how important learning civics is. I mean, I’ve learned so much about how government works over the last few years by just watching the news, but none of it from school. If we live in a democracy, shouldn’t teaching kids about how our government really works be just as important as teaching us science?”
“I would argue that it’s more important.”
“Then why don’t they teach it better? Why do we get science, math, and English classes every year, but just one civics class sometime in middle school? How are we supposed to learn about how important elections are, or how our justice system works, or what impeachment is, or how we can change laws? They don’t teach us any of that.”
“So far, I feel your frustration, and I frankly agree with you,” I said slowly. “However, I am not hearing your question.”
“Well, are they trying to keep us stupid,” she burst out. “You know, so we won’t understand how the government works? Are they afraid that if we understand how things really work, we might understand how to change things?”
“Who’s they?” I jumped in. “You have to be careful using the word ‘they’ when you are talking about thousands of different school district, school boards, elected official, paid educators, motivated parents, and political donors. You’re talking about literally millions of individuals, all of whom, I suspect, have unique motives for doing what they do. So I repeat, who’s they?”
“I suppose that I might be talking about the Deep State,” she replied uncertainly.
“Same difference. Who exactly is ‘the Deep State’? Do you even know what the ‘Deep State’ refers to?”
“Not really," she admitted.
“Then don’t use the word.”
“What word am I supposed to use then?” she growled, her frustration growing.
“Why don’t you mention some specific actions that have you concerned.”
“Okay,” she took a deep breath. “I’ve been watching what’s happening in Florida. They’re putting in new curriculums, so teachers have to teach history without mentioning anything that might make a kid feel bad. They can’t talk about the Black Lives Matter protests. They can’t talk about their gay relatives. They can’t teach some Advance Placement classes because the AP curriculums break the State’s new laws. They’re even taking books out of libraries. The whole thing just scares me.”
“Better,” I said. “But still too much use of the word they. Tell me exactly who is making all these changes?”
“Well,” she thought for a moment. “Isn’t it the school board that sets the curriculum? And the government that passes all those laws?”
“So we are talking about specific law makers, and specific school board members?” I confirmed.
“I suppose so,” she said, sounding irritated.
“Fine.” I wrapped my mind around her original question. “Are they trying to keep you stupid? Meaning are those specific school board members, and law makers trying to keep you stupid? Or, if not keep you stupid, keep their constituents stupid. Although, I prefer the word ignorant to stupid,” I added in an aside.
“What’s the difference?”
“Stupid implies a measure of intellect, while ignorance implies a lack of knowledge. Or in this case the purposeful controlling of knowledge.”
“Okay, fine. Are they, meaning are those specific school board members and law makers, trying to keep us, meaning their constituents, ignorant?”
“Better,” I nodded, then watched her glower at me from the corner of my eye as I careful constructed my answer. “While I believe that history provides a lot of evidence that controlling information, including school curriculums, can be used to control and manipulate a population; whether or not the Florida School districts are attempting to do the same, remains under debate.”
“What evidence?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Extensive evidence,” I replied. “You’ve got The Hitler Youth:
In his book Mein Kampf, written in the 1920s, Hitler said, “Whoever has the youth has the future.” Even before they came to power in 1933, Nazi leaders had begun to organize groups that would train young people according to Nazi principles. By 1936, all “Aryan” children in Germany over the age of six were required to join a Nazi youth group. At ten, boys were initiated into the Jungvolk (Young People), and at 14 they were promoted to the Hitler Youth. Their sisters joined the Jungmädel (Young Girls) and were later promoted to the League of German Girls. Hitler hoped that “These young people will learn nothing else but how to think German and act German. . . . And they will never be free again, not in their whole lives.”
Max von der Grün, Howl Like the Wolves: Growing Up in Nazi Germany (New York: W. Morrow, 1980), 118–19.
“Scary,” she murmured.
“And then you’ve got Afghanistan,” I continued. “Where girls are forbidden to even attend school. The Taliban elite know that if they can control the women, they can control their population.” I looked over at her. She was still paying attention. “Let’s not forget North Korea, where it’s isolationist policy makes it illegal for anyone to even leave their country without government permission; they’ve got total control on the information, education, and technology available to their people. And of course, we shouldn’t neglect how they teach Modern European history in Russian. I bet it’s nothing like how we teach it in the West.”
“Enough,” she said at last. “I get it.”
“I could go on,” I teased.
“Don’t,” she said. “I get that it could be worse here,” she paused. “But it could also be better.”
“It absolutely could be better. So if school civics curriculums are really keeping you up at night, what can you do to make it better?”
“Me? I can’t do anything.”
“Are you sure? Have you even been to a school board meeting? Do you even know how your school board members get their jobs? Are they elected, or appointed? Do they get paid, or are they volunteers? Have you ever met with a school board member and shared your concerns?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Then don’t tell me that there’s nothing you can do.”
“Would they even listen to me?”
“It’s a school board,” I laughed. “If you went to a meeting, they would have no choice but to listen to you. Of course, how they react to your presentation would depend on your ability to present it.” Her eyes narrowed again, so I took a deep breath and started over. “You live in a republic democracy. What is happening in Florida is between their elected officials, and the constituents they represent. Only Florida constituents can change what’s happening in Florida. You want to make a change in your State, or District? That is between you and your elected officials.”
“So if I asked the school board to pay more attention to civics, they could change that?”
“Sure,” I nodded. “Doesn’t mean they will, or even can. They have a limited budget. They have a lot to pay for. Because of laws like No Child Left Behind, federal funding is tied to student outcomes.”
“Meaning tests,” she interrupted. “Which is why teachers spend so much time helping us pass those tests.”
“It also might mean that your concerns need to move beyond the school board.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that maybe your concerns are something that schools are just not equipped to handle, so you might have to think outside the box.” I looked her in the eye. “To be honest, I am thinking about Alvin Irby, the founder of Barbershop Books. He’s doing for literacy, what you seem to want to do with civics.”
“What’s that?”
“The schools he worked in couldn’t get their young black boys interesting in reading with all their curriculums, so he found a community that could. He created Barbershop Books. You should listen to his Ted Talk; truly inspiring if you are in to education and empowerment.”
“What did he do?”
“He discovered a place that could teach kids to love reading; their local barber shops. And then he built a non-profit to help those barbershops provide reader friendly spaces for those kids, so those kids could actually enjoy reading while waiting for their appointments. He’s got people donating books that make kids laugh. He’s got the barbers asking the kids to read to them as they get their monthly hair cuts. He’s been turning kids into life long readers, instead of kids who ‘can't read’.” I looked at her pointedly. “The barbers have become the male mentors so many boys need.”
“Good for him,” she said glumly. “I sense that you’re trying to make some point.”
“Yes, I am.” I said. “In this week of rule four, when we have both agreed to focus on the power of focus, where exactly has your focus been? The power of focus is all about learning that you can control your focus. You say that something has been bothering you. So how have you dealt with that feeling? By focusing on what has been bothering you, or by focusing on what you can do about it?”
“I’ve been focused on how scary things are in Florida,” she admitted without thinking.
“If Alvin Irby had focused on what others were, or weren’t doing, we’d have no Barbershop Books.” I remembered something else, and slid my iPad across the table to her. “Look up Appeals Court Educational Activities.” I told her, “And then look up Appeals Court Educational Resources.” I waited for her to comply. I could hear her reading under her breath.
Distance Learning: Civics for Civic Engagement in the Federal Courts
Judges and attorneys work with high school students at home and in school as they engage with interactive modules on contemporary issues that teach the relevance of rule of law, separation of powers, judicial independence, and jury service in daily life.
https://www.uscourts.gov/about-federal-courts/educational-resources/educational-activities
She looked up. “I’ve never seen this before. Is it just for teachers?”
“It’s open to anybody, but I bet only civics teachers notice it. Or maybe homeschoolers. Would you have even thought to look it up if I hadn’t suggested it?”
“No,” she slid the iPad back to me.
I typed a few words into the search, opened up another page, and slid it back it her. “Take a look at this site,” I told her. “It’s a list of organizations that are working to improve civics instruction, both inside the classroom, and outside. They have resources for teachers, and for students like you. You should check some of them out. There’s also an office in the Hawaii State Capitol called the Public Access Room. Its whole mandate is to help the public navigate the State’s government. How to introduce bills; how to follow them; how to advocate for and against them. Some pretty great people work there. You can even get them to come to your school and make a presentation.”
“So basically, I should focus on finding people who are already trying to help solve the problem, and getting involved with them?”
“Yes, focus on sharing your concerns. Talk with your classmates. Talk to your teachers. Talk to your school board and see if they feel the same as you. Heck, talk to your church. Get a group together and take advantage of these resources.”
“You mean like form a club?”
“I mean like, if your school isn’t teaching you what you want to know, there are other ways and places to learn. I don’t know if other States have a Public Access Room. But Hawaii does, so you should use it. You should tell your friends about it. People can only ‘keep you stupid’ if you let them.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“A lot of work,” I agreed. “But worthwhile work if it really means that much to you.” I watched her consider my words, and quoted for the hundredth time, “A problem is only a problem if you can do something about it. Everything else is a fact of life, so get over it.”
She nodded silently, then concluded the lesson herself by saying, “And if I focus on how helpless I am, I will never notice what I can do.”