When reflecting on my career as a public classroom teacher I hold on to many fond memories. The subject, American History, provided a lot of fascinating stories to share with teenagers coming of age in America. The kids came from varying backgrounds and abilities but once the door closed we focused on a subject that linked us together as one people.

One memorable lesson concerned the Second Continental Congress and adoption of the Declaration of Independence. Together we unpacked the document, followed by guided questioning to clarify the contents. Thomas Jefferson lists the extraordinary circumstances that brought about the decision to split with Britain. Part of the substance listed the abuses of the King and measures colonials had to take to be heard. Toward the end of the lesson I asked the class who they thought Jefferson might be addressing with his lengthy explanation. One boy cautiously raised his hand, an astonished expression on his face, and in a surprised voice he answered  “me.”

Indeed.

Toward the end of the academic year the kids were assigned to sit down with an elder and interview the person about their recollections of life in an earlier time. Students had studied a lot of decades which prepared them for those recordings. In a particularly powerful interview a boy contacted his uncle, a Vietnam veteran, and asked him to tell about his tour of duty in that bygone war. This veteran had not spoken of his service to anyone since returning in the late 1960’s. And although this poor man wept through the recording he apparently cleansed his soul for after decades of self-imposed isolation the uncle began to join family get-togethers.

My student said it was a miracle.

Lessons from the past such as these are vital to understanding America’s present. Though the course required a great deal of writing and analysis, a sense of accomplishment filled the room with an aura of confidence, and national belonging.

Today, over a decade has passed since my retirement, and much has changed in American classrooms. Rather than sanctuaries of learning classrooms have become battle fronts in the culture wars. A small, but loud minority has succeeded in chipping away at the foundation of public education, ironically something Mr. Jefferson promoted as vital to freedom. Sadly those misguided assaults imperil our nation’s ability to survive intact. 

The underlying cause appears to concern social class, power, and money. To educate all requires tax dollars, dollars fewer want to pay. Further, education implies looking toward the future, providing hope that the promise of America will pass on to new generations. Making money now and keeping it is more important than any investment in other people’s kids. Besides the upper classes can afford to educate their children, and believing they must shelter them from the lower classes. That attitude runs counter to America’s motto: E Pluribus Unum, Out of Many, One. Education is a promise that opens up a world of possibilities. That power and possibilities the well-heeled wish to hoard.

Take, for example, Betsy DuVos appointed by Trump 1.0. She took the job as Secretary of Education for the sole purpose of defunding and dismantling public schools. This is not hyperbole. As Secretary of Education, she made no secret of her contempt for public education. In her official role she pushed for school vouchers, charter schools, private institutions, all designed to ensure gated-community education. Stripping down federal education statutes and funding marked her time in Washington.

With Trump 2.0 even the Department of Education is gone. Critics attacking public education lack serious understanding of our public system, and that threatens our national viability.

History could not be more clear regarding the obligation to America’s youth. After the Revolutionary War as land opened up in the Great Lakes area, Congress passed the Northwest Ordinance (1787). This law organized a numbered survey grid mandating revenue from section 16 of the survey be earmarked for public education.

In the years after the Civil War waves of immigrants from Eastern and Southern Europe flooded upon America’s shores. To aid the newcomers settlement houses, such as the Neighborhood Guild in New York City, and Chicago’s Hull House, children attended classes to learn to be American. Too bad we can’t rally the same enthusiasm for all our kids today.

Now self-appointed curriculum experts pack local school board meetings, demanding removal of books, blaming and bullying over-worked teachers which isn’t helpful. Understandably many educators leave after only a few years, while the rest bravely persevere. What our teachers need is meaningful support as they shoulder the duty of classroom instruction plus all the distractions of behavior problems, lockdown drills, bomb threats, and active shooter protocols.

This is an issue of national self interest. There is nothing sentimental or saccharine about how it takes a village. It does take all of us. We all bear responsibility to all of our kids, for they cannot do this for themselves.

Leave teachers alone and let them continue to weave that same magic I experienced for all of our students. We have and will continue to turn potential into reality.

Whether a parent or an educator, or a retired senior, we are depending on you all to protect the patriotic long game.

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two-part memoir “River of January,” and “River of January: Figure Eight,” co-writer of the screenplay, and “Dancing On Air” based on those books. She has penned three stage plays on history topics, “Clay” on the life of Senator Henry Clay, “Wolf By The Ears” examining the beginnings of American slavery, and “Peer Review” where 47 is confronted by specters of four past presidents.