National Public Education

A Country or a Colony?

Whenever I bring up the idea of a national school system, one of the first critiques is always that this would result in more emphasis on the “dominant culture” in our country, and that this is not a good thing.  The argument is that by centralizing our school system, so that there would be only one source for the curriculum and methods, instead of the 50 states, we would have to make the schools more homogeneous and less diverse.  A recent gallop poll notes that 80% of Americans do not want the schools to emphasize “one dominant culture.”  Our diversity and openness has always been seen as one of our essential strengths.  Wouldn’t a national system weaken or even do away with these attributes?
But is it possible to have a strong school system that does not represent a certain point of view?  A teacher has to teach something; he can’t teach everything.  Can we really teach all the different points of view possible?  Wouldn’t it be better just to teach the best ones?  Of course a weak school system can be said to not teach any one dominant culture, since it doesn’t really teach anything, but can a strong one?  It may be that diversity is a cardinal concept in our culture, but that does not mean that the teaching itself has to be diverse.
These arguments against any strong central beliefs seem to me to be part of a nostalgia for our past rather than any clear thinking about our future.  In the past we were intent on filling up this country and needed all the new people we could find.  On the frontier it had to be that all were welcome, all were equal, all were left to their own devices to come up with as many solutions to a problem as possible.  Any centralized culture would work against the kind of varied and energetic immigrants we needed.    We wanted everyone to feel at home, so it was essential that there was only a very loose definition of what was our dominant culture.
But what of the future?  What will this country be remembered for a millennium hence?  What have we done that others haven’t?  Were we a refuge for the “tired and poor” of the rest of the world?  But the statue of liberty faces away from our shores.  It is a monument for the rest of the world, not for us.  We helped them solve their problems; what have we ourselves done?  Innovations?  Yes, but these, by definition, come and go quickly.  Who still honors the inventor of the tape recorder?  Democracy?  But most of the world now does this, and many better than we do.  Wealth and power; is anyone remembered for this?  Personal freedom; which the most backward, violent, countries have more of than we do?
We haven’t accomplished much that is lasting because we have never settled on who we are.  We have not yet agreed on what makes us unique.  In a sense, we still think of ourselves as a young, evolving country; teenagers in a world of adults.  We haven’t grown up into the kind of mature stable country that we should be.  Adults have to choose the one thing they want to be; you can’t be both the physicist and concert pianist that you hoped to be when young.
In many ways, what we have done is kept the characteristics of a colony: a place where anyone can arrive and feel at home, no matter what their beliefs; where money is to be made, and innovations, and stunning achievements in technology and science, but little of lasting value.  A colony is a service to the rest of the world; a refuge, a land of new opportunity.  All are welcome; all have a chance to succeed.  But the whole operation is based on change; little is done that is ever remembered.
Nor is a colony a good place for our young.  A child needs a stable society, one where the ideals of the culture are clear and will remain so on into the future; where work today on those ideals will lead to success tomorrow.  A colony, where the adults all think of themselves as young, is hard on those who actually are young.  Children need some real adults around to guide them.   We need to consider how we might educate our own, interior, newcomers, the ones we have produced ourselves, our children.  They can be just as valuable to us.  They can be our future.
So I am not worried that a national school system would run counter to who we really are.  We don’t know who we are.  We have chosen to ignore that question so that we may continue to attract outsiders.  It is time, though, to grow up into the mature country we ought to be.  This means starting the process of deciding on stable and consistent ideals.  That process would be aided by a national school system, not hurt by it.

Peter Dodington

August 7, 2013