Bad Analogy Theater

So at the moment, I’m almost done with my 24th year of teaching. I’ve taught everything: 6th grade world cultures, 7th grade geography and Texas history, 8th grade US history, 9th grade world geography in two different states, AP Human Geography, AP World History, AP US History, and AP Comparative Government & Politics. I also spent two years with the hilarious title of East Zone Secondary Social Studies Instructional Facilitator.

Over all that stuff, I’d say I have some “things” about how I teach. I fully support the importance of making structure and objectives open to kids so they know where we’re headed. I think grades are the dumbest thing ever. (Probably my greatest moment during the lockdown was sitting on a teacher panel on Zoom and just straight up saying “Abolish grades” — I even got some cheers.) I don’t believe in forcing outside textbook reading, though I do believe in making it available for the kids that find it useful.

One of my favorite things though, is what I’ve come to call “Bad Analogy Theater.” A lot of the time it starts with either a sports or relationship analogy, things that teenagers generally find approachable. I riff on it a bit to explore the characteristics of the situation, then if at all possible, a ridiculous segue way into the actually history content. By running through some details and characteristics, it allows for a better discussion of how the analogy does or does not hold up — or as I’ve become indoctrinated via AP Exam, we “evaluate the extent to which” the analogy works.

I love it. The highlight this year was me bringing up Jameis Winston’s multi-pick-six night while throwing for 500 yards or something ridiculous in a loss (intro to us laying out whether the North won the Civil War or whether the South lost the Civil War - one of those eternal gotta fill the sports talk radio scenarios). It’s fun — not all kids respond of course, but the ones who know, know, and are generally impressed by my ability to spin it into an actual history lesson. (For the record - I’m team the South lost. They literally had the Articles of Confederation as an example in not-obscure US history and still believed that they were better or smarter and could make it work? lol water those folks, they’re too stupid to live. Oh, and they really thought they could convince a generation of British parliamentarians who had just ended slavery to support them over the Union? Again.. get the watering can. Also, maybe have you heard of a place called India?)

So after fishing for encouragement to teach some history for all my folks who wished they had learned more when they were younger, I initially went for a super hoity toity title, hated how wordy and frankly fancy it was, and looked around for something simpler. Also, a fancy title would probably imply that this was a super serious work of education, instead of a side project meant to entertain and educate, which is a whole lot more my classroom persona. There was really only one choice, so here we are.

The worst cliches about learning history are that history repeats itself, or those who don’t learn are “doomed” to repeat it, or even the idea that history doesn’t repeat itself but it does rhyme. I think a rhyme is a whole lot closer, but I think the bad analogy is way more apt. It’s acknowledging that the analogy is bad, and digging into the differences and characteristics that leave the analogy short of doom and fate is really interesting. It gets us to think about the present as much as we think about the past.

Two of my favorite historians, Mike Duncan and Alexis Coe, just wrapped up the Season Zero of the aptly titled Duncan and Coe History Show with a great bit about how history is the present:

History is always being revised, always being rewritten by new generations of historians. The idea that history is some neutral thing is just as harmful as the idea that our media should sit the fence and not call out absolute criminal, harmful behavior just because they have to be “fair” to both political parties in the US. Historians bring their own values and morals and beliefs to the story, and unless you want the boringest parade of facts ever, that’s the really interesting part about sources and histories. So wherever possible I want to touch on these narratives and changes to the narratives or those hidden bits - just wait for me to bring up James Hammond and the “Mudsill Speech.” THAT story is something else.

(Note: So many of the episodes are flat bangers, but the run of episodes from Boss Walrus to Black Pioneer, White Frontier is so good. You really have to listen to Marc Bloch for some absolute hero stuff, then Squirrel’s Troublesome Little Bones for your fill of “okay I’d rather eat today’s food than that stuff.” I also never knew that I’d be interested in Chester Arthur of all people.)

Last note — I really do feel like teaching history to teenagers is a huge problem. SO many teenagers just aren’t ready. I can’t tell you how many adults bring up regret about not caring or paying attention, but honestly, the class was probably so boring and tedious and just fundamentally bad that I don’t blame anyone. I hated junior high and high school history, until I had a fantastic AP US Gov teacher my senior year. The other problem is the mentality that teachers have about the class: I think so many of them think (not unreasonably) that they’re teaching the last or only history class people are ever going to take about the subject of the class. They feel the need to cram absolutely everything into the class, and kids just can’t hang on to the onslaught of names, places, dates, battles (ugh), and whatever else that is shoveled at them.

I recently managed to fix my brain to view class as hopefully their first world history or US history class. I’m there to just build the big picture foundation, dig into some interesting examples, and give students a chance to practice the historical thinking skills that are really the most useful thing in the class. If they actually enjoy the experience, or at least don’t hate it, then they’ll be open to picking up a book, taking a college class, or subscribing to a podcast that does good history later on in their lives. Either way, as a teacher I can try to push everything possible and kids leave with nothing, or teach a much lesser amount of stuff that kids can actually walk away understanding and hanging on to.

And if they remember it because of some truly horrifying relationship analogy?

Even better.