9.A Nation From The Bottom Up: The Underground History of American
Education by John Taylor Gatto from archive.org
CHAPTER
ONE
The Way It Used To Be
Whoever controls the image and information of
the past determines what and how future
generations will think; whoever controls the information and images of
the present determines how those same
people will view the past. — George
Orwell, 1984 (1949)
Take at hazard one hundred children of several
educated generations and one hundred
uneducated children of the people and compare them in anything you
please; in strength, in agility, in
mind, in the ability to acquire knowledge, even in morality — and in all respects you are startled by the vast
superiority on the side of the children of the
uneducated. — Count Leo Tolstoy,
"Education and Children" (1862)
ESTABLISHING SHOT
Fifty children of different ages are teaching
each other while the schoolmaster hears
lessons at his desk from older students. An air of quiet activity fills
the room. A wood stove crackles in the
corner. What drove the nineteenth-century school world celebrated in Edward Eggleston's classic, The Hoosier
Schoolmaster, was a society rich with
concepts like duty, hard work, responsibility, and self-reliance; a
society overwhelmingly local in
orientation although never so provincial it couldn't be fascinated by the
foreign and exotic. But when tent
Chautauqua with its fanfare about modern marvels left town, conversation readily returned to the text of
local society.
Eggleston's America was a special place in
modern history, one where the society was
more central than the national political state. Words can't adequately
convey the stupendous radicalism hidden
in our quiet villages, a belief that ordinary people have a right to govern themselves. A confidence that
they can.
Most revolutionary of all was the conviction
that personal rights can only be honored
when the political state is kept weak. In the classical dichotomy
between liberty and subordination
written into our imagination by Locke and Hobbes in the seventeenth century, America struggled down the
libertarian road of Locke for awhile while her three godfather nations, England, Germany, and France,
followed Hobbes and established
leviathan states through the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Toward
the end, America began to follow the Old
World's lead.
For
Hobbes, social order depended upon state control of the inner life, a degree of
mental colonization unknown to the
tyrants of history whose principal concern had been controlling the bodies of their subjects.
But the sheer size of an America without national roads or electronic networks ensured that
liberty would be nurtured outside the ring of
government surveillance. Then, too, many Americans came out of the
dissenting religious sects of England,
independent congregations which rejected church-state partnerships. The bulk of our population was socially
suspect anyway. Even our gentry was second and
third string by English standards, gentlemen without inheritances, the
rest a raggle-taggle band of wastrels,
criminals, shanghaied boys, poor yeomanry, displaced peasants.
Benet, the poet, describes our founding stock:
The
disavouched, hard-bitten pack Shipped
overseas to steal a continent with
neither shirts nor honor to their back.
In
Last Essays, George Bernanos observes that America, unlike other nations, was
built from the bottom up. Francis Parkman
made the same observation a century earlier. What America violently rejected in its early
republic was the Anglican "Homily On Obedience" set down by English established-church
doctrine in the Tudor state of 1562, a doctrine
likening order in Heaven with the English social order on Earth — fixed
and immutable:
The sun, moon, stars, rainbows, thunder,
lightning, clouds, and all the birds of the air do keep their order. The earth, trees, seeds,
plants, herbs, corn, grass, and all manner of
beasts keep themselves in order.... Every degree of people in their
vocations, callings and office has
appointed to them their duty and order.
By
1776 the theocratic Utopia toward which such a principle moves, was well
established in the Britain of the German
Georges, as well as in the three North German states of Prussia, Saxony, and Hanover. Together with
England, all three were to play an
important role in twentieth- century forced schooling in America. The
same divine clock, superficially secularized,
was marking time in the interlude of Enlightenment France, the pre-revolutionary Utopia which would also
have a potent effect on American school
thought. Hobbes and his doctrine of mental colonization eclipsed Locke
everywhere else, but not in
America.
No comments:
Post a Comment