Archives for category: History

We often hear that the word “education” is not included in the U.S. Constitution. That is true, but it does not mean that the Founding Fathers were indifferent to the importance of education. The U.S. Constitution was written and signed in 1787. Before the U.S. Constitution was adopted in 1789, the Congress passed Ordinances that expressed their commitment to the importance of public schools.

Congress enacted the Land Ordinance of 1785 to show how the new lands in the western territories should be settled. This ordinance laid out new townships into 36 sections. Section 16, in the center, was to be set aside in every township in the new Western Territory for the maintenance of public schools. (“There shall be reserved the lot No. 16, of every township, for the maintenance of public schools within the said township.”) The committee that wrote the Land Ordinance included Thomas Jefferson of (Virginia), Hugh Williamson (North Carolina), David Howell (Rhode Island), Elbridge Gerry (Massachusetts) and Jacob Read (South Carolina).

Two years later came the Northwest Ordinance of 1787. This ordinance provided land in the Great Lakes and Ohio Valley regions for settlement. (This region eventually broke into five states: Michigan, Indiana, Wisconsin, Ohio, and Illinois [and a part of Minnesota]).

Of particular interest is Article 3 of the Northwest Ordinance, which reads in part:

Religion, morality, and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.

These two ordinances were written by the Founding Fathers and the earliest Congresses, preceding the adoption of the Constitution. In addition to their central purpose, to lay out the rules for settlement, they were meant to encourage the development and proliferation of public schools in every township in every new state. The ordinances also prohibited the spread of slavery into the new territory and the new states after 1800.

While the Founding Fathers had high regard for religion, they did not want government to establish any religion. They incorporated this view into the First Amendment, which was part of the ten amendments included in the Bill of Rights, adopted on December 15, 1791. Responsility for the development and maintenance of public schools was left to the states, as is implicit in the Tenth Amendment.

The Founding Fathers were well aware of the history of religious warfare that had divided Europe for centuries and plunged the continent into chaos again and again. They wanted this new democracy to be a place of religious freedom, where each person could live in accord with his conscience without the interference or the support of government. In a land of many different forms of Christianity, as well as Judaism, the Founders wanted vigorous and successful public schools that neither favored nor opposed any religion.

It is ironic that four of the five states created under the terms of the Northwest Ordinance–Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, and Wisconsin–have chosen to disregard the clearly stated wishes of our Founding Fathers. The Northwest Ordinance did not set aside a section for religious schools or private schools. Section 16 in every town was for public schools.

 

 

This seems to me like a good way to end a very difficult year.

Every so often, it is useful to remember the purposes of education.

It is not about test scores.

It is not about readiness for college and career.

It is not about readiness to be a global competitor.

It is the process of developing judgment, humanity, character, ethical and moral sensibility, one’s sense of self and sense of civic responsibility.

A journalist recently asked me what to read to learn about Dewey’s vision of education.

This was my recommendation.

Here is John Dewey’s creed.

What do you think?

Tom Birmingham was one of the fathers of the Massachusetts Education Reform Act of 1993. He writes here that the teaching of history has always been considered a foundational part of education in Massachusetts, the birthplace of public schooling. History is fundamental to citizenship, and citizenship is the main purpose of public schooling.

He writes:

“ABOUT 25 YEARS AGO, as a member of the Massachusetts Senate, I co-authored the Massachusetts Education Reform Act. Drafting a complex bill with such far-reaching consequences requires significant compromise, but one thing my counterparts in the House of Representatives and then-Gov. Bill Weld all agreed upon was the importance of educating students about our nation’s history.

“As a result, the law explicitly requires instruction about the Declaration of Independence, the Federalist Papers and the US Constitution. We also made passage of a US history test a high school graduation requirement.

“Sadly, subsequent generations of political leaders have not shared our view of the importance of US history. It is now becoming an afterthought in too many of our public schools.

“The Founding Fathers believed that to exercise the rights and privileges of citizenship, Americans had to understand our history and its seminal documents. They also saw it as the role of public schools to pass on what James Madison called “the political religion of the nation” to its children. As the great educational standards expert E.D. Hirsch said, “The aim of schooling was not just to Americanize the immigrants, but also to Americanize the Americans.”

“Without this, they believed the new nation itself might dissolve. They had good reason: Until then internal dissension had brought down every previous republic.

“According to Professor Hirsch, the public school curriculum should be based on acquiring wide background knowledge, not just learning how to learn. This belief is diametrically opposed to the view held by many that the main purpose of public education should merely be to prepare students for the workforce. As it turns out, the evidence is fairly strong that students who receive a broad liberal arts education also tend to do better financially than those taught a narrower curriculum focused on just training students for a job.

“The role of public schools in creating citizens capable of informed participation in American democracy was particularly important in a pluralistic society like ours. Unlike so many others, our country was not based upon a state religion, ancient boundaries or bloodlines, but instead on a shared system of ideas, principles, and beliefs.”

Some people think that the way to reinvigorate history in the curriculum is to require standardized history tests. I disagree. History must be taught with questions, discussions, debates, theories, and curiosity. Standardized tests would reduce history to nothing more than facts. Facts matter, but what makes history exciting is the quest and the questions, the controversies and the uncertainty.

Timothy Egan writes a regular column in the New York Times. I usually find myself vigorously nodding in assent as I read whatever he writes. I went to a wonderful conference at Oberlin College this week, and he gave a talk that is reflected in this column.

He blames our current national stupidity on schools and teachers because they are not teaching civics, Government, and history. He acknowledges that these vital courses may have been casualties of the standardized testing hysteria.

But that can’t be the only reason so many Americans can’t tell the difference between fake news and facts, why so many Americans don’t bother to vote, why so many accept outright lies without question, why so many know so little about our government or our history.

Teachers, what do you think?

Read what Egan writes and speak up.

Jack Hassard wrote about the use of social media to spread fake news. Facebook, Twitter, and Google have become facilitators of fake news.

We know it is there. What can we do about it?

This is a very good analysis by a group of scholars at the Stanford History Education Group about civic reasoning, which explains how to avoid being hoaxed by fake news.

The questions that must always be present in any discussion is: How do you know? Who said so? What is the source? How reliable is the source? Can you confirm this information elsewhere? What counts as reliable evidence?

Many people use Wikipedia as a reliable source, but Wikipedia is crowdsourced and is not authoritative. I recall some years back when I gave a lecture in North Carolina that was named in honor of a distinguished senator of the state. The Wikipedia entry said he was a Communist, as were members of his staff. This was obviously the work of a troll. But it might not be obvious to a student researching a paper.

They write:

“Fake news is certainly a problem. Sadly, however, it’s not our biggest. Fact-checking organizations like Snopes and PolitiFact can help us detect canards invented by enterprising Macedonian teenagers,3 but the Internet is filled with content that defies labels like “fake” or “real.” Determining who’s behind information and whether it’s worthy of our trust is more complex than a true/false dichotomy.

“For every social issue, there are websites that blast half-true headlines, manipulate data, and advance partisan agendas. Some of these sites are transparent about who runs them and whom they represent. Others conceal their backing, portraying themselves as grassroots efforts when, in reality, they’re front groups for commercial or political interests. This doesn’t necessarily mean their information is false. But citizens trying to make decisions about, say, genetically modified foods should know whether a biotechnology company is behind the information they’re reading. Understanding where information comes from and who’s responsible for it are essential in making judgments of credibility.

“The Internet dominates young people’s lives. According to one study, teenagers spend nearly nine hours a day online.4 With optimism, trepidation, and, at times, annoyance, we’ve witnessed young people’s digital dexterity and astonishing screen stamina. Today’s students are more likely to learn about the world through social media than through traditional sources like print newspapers.5 It’s critical that students know how to evaluate the content that flashes on their screens.

“Unfortunately, our research at the Stanford History Education Group demonstrates they don’t.* Between January 2015 and June 2016, we administered 56 tasks to students across 12 states. (To see sample items, go to http://sheg.stanford.edu (link is external).) We collected and analyzed 7,804 student responses. Our sites for field-testing included middle and high schools in inner-city Los Angeles and suburban schools outside of Minneapolis. We also administered tasks to college-level students at six different universities that ranged from Stanford University, a school that rejects 94 percent of its applicants, to large state universities that admit the majority of students who apply.

“When thousands of students respond to dozens of tasks, we can expect many variations. That was certainly the case in our experience. However, at each level—middle school, high school, and college—these variations paled in comparison to a stunning and dismaying consistency. Overall, young people’s ability to reason about information on the Internet can be summed up in two words: needs improvement.

“Our “digital natives”† may be able to flit between Facebook and Twitter while simultaneously uploading a selfie to Instagram and texting a friend. But when it comes to evaluating information that flows through social media channels, they’re easily duped. Our exercises were not designed to assign letter grades or make hairsplitting distinctions between “good” and “better.” Rather, at each level, we sought to establish a reasonable bar that was within reach of middle school, high school, or college students. At each level, students fell far below the bar.”

They offer specific examples of hoaxes to show how easily people are duped.

They conclude:

“The senior fact checker at a national publication told us what she tells her staff: “The greatest enemy of fact checking is hubris”—that is, having excessive trust in one’s ability to accurately pass judgment on an unfamiliar website. Even on seemingly innocuous topics, the fact checker says to herself, “This seems official; it may be or may not be. I’d better check.”

“The strategies we recommend here are ways to fend off hubris. They remind us that our eyes deceive, and that we, too, can fall prey to professional-looking graphics, strings of academic references, and the allure of “.org” domains. Our approach does not turn students into cynics. It does the opposite: it provides them with a dose of humility. It helps them understand that they are fallible.

“The web is a sophisticated place, and all of us are susceptible to being taken in. Like hikers using a compass to make their way through the wilderness, we need a few powerful and flexible strategies for getting our bearings, gaining a sense of where we’ve landed, and deciding how to move forward through treacherous online terrain. Rather than having students slog through strings of questions about easily manipulated features, we should be teaching them that the World Wide Web is, in the words of web-literacy expert Mike Caulfield, “a web, and the way to establish authority and truth on the web is to use the web-like properties of it.”13 This is what professional fact checkers do.

“It’s what we should be teaching our students to do as well.”

Words matter.

Trump has been called a “populist.” The Brexit movement has been called “populist.” Marie LePen, who ran for president of France on an anti-immigration platform, was called a “populist.” Bannon and his anti-Establishment movement funded by the billionaire Mercers are called “populists.” No doubt, someone thinks the Koch brothers are “populists.”

None of these people are populists, not in the literal sense of representing ordinary folk, nor in the historical sense of connecting to a movement that surfaced in the late 1890s.

Populism as a movement means “for the people,” for the ordinary people, for working people. It should not be confused with appeals to nationalism, racism, and chauvinism. Demagogues appeal to base instincts, but they are not populists by doing so.

If you support a plan to take away health insurance from millions of people, you are not a populist. If you support tax reform that cuts the taxes of the richest people in society (for example, by eliminating the estate tax and by reducing the tax rates for those with the highest income), you are not a populist. If you support the privatizing of public services so that they can be transferred to private ownership, you are not a populist. If you support the privatization of public education, you are neither a populist nor a progressive, because both movements fought to expand government services, not to privatize them.

The Populist Party of the late nineteenth century emerged to fight against the rich and powerful interests of the day on behalf of working men, farmers, and the powerless. The Populist movement of a century ago–also known as the People’s Party–genuinely wanted leftwing reforms that favored the great mass of people, not the rich. It wanted the protection of government, not its destruction. It defended common folk and farmers against the bankers, the railroads, and powerful capitalists. It allied with the labor movement. It was a leftwing movement for the empowerment of the voiceless. The Populists were part of an agrarian revolt against the powerful interests that ruled their lives, especially the banks and the railroads.

Bannon and his billionaire buddies, including Trump and Mercer, are subversives who want to destroy the government and destroy programs that protect the neediest among us.

When Trump rails against the elites, it is a joke. He is a billionaire, not a farmer or a dispossessed laborer. He does not speak for the poor or for working people, though he sometimes pretends to. A populist does not live in mansions with a large staff of servants. A populist does not own golf clubs, hotels, and casinos. A populist does not play to ethnic and racial hatreds. A populist seeks to unite the common folk to advance an economic agenda that protects them from being preyed upon by people like Trump and Bannon and the Koch brothers and the Mercers.

Calling them “populists” not only distorts the actual and historical meaning of the word, but gives them the veneer of sympathy for the working poor that they cynically manipulate.

In Europe, those who are wrongly called “populist” are more accurately referred to as nationalists, or in extreme cases, as fascists who want to purify the ethnic stock of their country.

Disagree if you will, but read more about Populism before you do.

Here is the Populist Party Platform Of 1892.

The link was left off. It is here.

Valerie Strauss reports on an important new study by a group at Stanford University led by historian Sam Wineburg.

NAEP supporters say that the tests are able to measure skills that other standardized tests can’t: problem solving, critical thinking, etc. But this post takes issue with that notion. It was written by three Stanford University academics who are part of the Stanford History Education Group: Sam Wineburg, Mark Smith and Joel Breakstone.

Wineburg, an education and history professor in the Graduate School of Education, is the founder and executive director of the Stanford History Education Group and Stanford’s PhD program in education history. His research interests include assessment, civic education and literacy. Smith, a former high school social studies in Iowa, Texas and California, is the group’s director of assessment; his research is focused on K-12 history assessment, particularly on issues of validity and generalizability. And Breakstone, a former high school history teacher in Vermont, directs the Stanford History Education Group. His research focuses on how teachers use assessment data to form instruction.

The National Assessment of Educational Progress is considered the “gold standard” of education testing because it is the only national longitudinal measure that goes back to 1970; no one can practice for it; no one knows which students will take the test; no single student takes the entire test; samples of students in every state take portions of the tests.

But when it comes to standardized testing, there is no gold standard. It is all dross, especially now that almost all standardized tests are delivered online. Online testing is popular because it is cheap and supposedly fast. But online testing by its nature allows no room for demonstrating thoughtfulness or for divergent thinking or for creative responses. It is the enemy of critical thinking.

Wineburg’s group tried to determine whether NAEP actually tested critical thinking, and they found that it did not.

But what would happen [they asked] if instead of grading the kids, we graded the test makers? How? By evaluating the claims they make about what their tests actually measure.

For example, in history, NAEP claims to test not only names and dates, but critical thinking — what it calls “Historical Analysis and Interpretation.” Such questions require students to “explain points of view,” “weigh and judge different views of the past,” and “develop sound generalizations and defend these generalizations with persuasive arguments.” In college, students demonstrate these skills by writing analytical essays in which they have to put facts into context. NAEP, however, claims it can measure such skills using traditional multiple-choice questions.

We wanted to test this claim. We administered a set of Historical Analysis and Interpretation questions from NAEP’s 2010 12th-grade exam to high school students who had passed the Advanced Placement (AP) exam in U.S. History (with a score of 3 or above). We tracked students’ thinking by having them verbalize their thoughts as they solved the questions.

What we learned shocked us.

In a study that appears in the forthcoming American Educational Research Journal, we show that in 108 cases (27 students answering four different items), there was not a single instance in which students’ thinking resembled anything close to “Historical Analysis and Interpretation.” Instead, drawing on canny test-taking strategies, students typically did an end run around historical content to arrive at their answers.

Their analysis is fascinating.

It is past time that we relinquished our obsession with standardized testing.

Ariela Rosen is a high school senior in a public school in New York City. She wrote a beautiful article that was published on the op-ed page of the New York Times.

It is the story of a man you have never heard of: Charles Stover. There is a bench in Central Park in New York City dedicated to him. But only a bench.

She writes:

“Under his name a simple inscription proclaims him “Founder of Outdoor Playgrounds.” When I read that for the first time, I laughed. How could one person be the founder of playgrounds? And shouldn’t he get more than a bench?

“Even more absurd was what I found when I looked him up. His Wikipedia page was barely two paragraphs long and made no mention of playgrounds at all. The article mainly concerned the day in 1913 that Stover, after three years as New York City’s parks commissioner, went out to lunch … and didn’t come back. For 39 days.

“Naturally, this made me more than a little curious about the man. I’ve been looking for him ever since.

“The first thing I discovered was that almost nobody — not my parents, not my high-school teachers — knew who Stover was. This seemed strange to me because he was an enormously important figure. In 1886 he was a co-founder of the University Settlement House — the first settlement house in the United States — from which he spearheaded the growing reform movement in New York City. Stover was also involved in efforts to preserve Central Park and develop more parks and playgrounds in poor neighborhoods. In 1898 he founded, together with Lillian Wald, the Outdoor Recreation League, which sponsored the construction of playgrounds as a substitute for unsupervised street play. As parks commissioner, Stover created the Bureau of Recreation, which built dozens of playgrounds in its first three years, including DeWitt Clinton Park, Seward Park and Jacob Riis Park….”

“When Stover died in 1929, he left only a few books and papers, but his legacy went far beyond his possessions. He spent his time and money providing playgrounds, gardens, housing and other services for poor immigrant children and their families, all the while battling his depression…

“Stover believed — and his life proves — that it is possible to make a difference in the world without yelling. It is easy to get caught up in the shouting of politicians, or to want simply to walk away from it all. That is why it is more important than ever to listen to the stories of those around us.

“I plan to go on looking for Stover, but his bench has already taught me an important lesson: Sometimes the most powerful words are the ones that are whispered.”

What a lovely essay.

Ariela Rosen roused my curiosity, so I checked Stover’s Wikipedia entry. It was five paragraphs long.

It reads:

“Stover was born in Riegelsville, Pennsylvania, on July 14, 1861. He attended Lafayette College and graduated in 1881. He studied to become a Presbyterian minister at the Union Theological Seminary and graduated in 1884. He also took classes at the University of Berlin, before moving to Manhattan’s Lower East Side.

“In 1886, Stover founded the Neighborhood Guild on Forsyth Street, the first settlement house in the United States. In 1898, he and Lillian Wald, director of the nearby Henry Street Settlement, founded the Outdoor Recreation League (ORL), whose mission was to provide play spaces and organize games for the children of the densely populated Lower East Side. The ORL opened nine privately sponsored playgrounds and advocated that the City itself build and operate playgrounds. In 1902 the City assumed the operation of the ORL playgrounds, and in 1903 opened what is presumed to be the first municipally built playground in the nation, Seward Park in Manhattan’s Lower East Side; the ORL had opened an outdoor gymnasium there in May 1899, on city-owned land.

“In January 1910, Stover was named parks commissioner for Manhattan by New York City’s newly-elected mayor, William Jay Gaynor. Stover’s tenure was controversial; in July 1911 The New York Times reported that he was being asked to hand in his resignation. He did not resign and was not fired; in August 1911 he announced major plans were underway for Central Park and Riverside Drive Park. In April 1913 Stover said “I do not believe in the policy that the parks are merely places people to walk through and look at the trees and gaze at the landscapef from a distance, nor do I believe that any one should be permitted to destroy anything, but I take the position that certain parks of the asphalt and the lawns should be open most liberally to the young people for amusement, proper athletics, and recreation, under proper circumstances.

“In October 1913, Stover told his staff and coworkers that he was going out for lunch then he disappeared. In mid-November he was erroneously thought to have died in Delaware when a body resembling him was found. A week later, he was seen in Washington, D.C., by a former city official. In late November, a nationwide search began, which included sending a short film clip to 10,000 moving-picture places across the United States. Shortly thereafter, Stover mailed his letter of resignation from Cincinnati, and Ardolph Loges Kline, the Mayor of New York City, replaced Stover with Louis F. La Roche, Stover’s deputy. On January 28, 1914, Stover returned to the University Settlement House.[10]

“Stover spent the rest of his life developing a summer camp at Beacon, New York, operated by the University Settlement House. He died at the University Settlement House on April 24, 1929, at the age of 67, leaving an estate valued at only $500.”

I recommend that Ariela continue her search by reading about Mayor Gaynor, who appointed Stover as Parks Commissioner. He was shot in the neck by a discharged city worker, but survived. Gaynor was put into office by the Tammany Hall machine, but to the surprise of all, turned out to be an honest and dedicated public servant. I have a published collection of letters that he wrote to constituents, and they are masterpieces of wit and irascibility.

Thanks to G.F. Brandenburg for bringing this post to my attention.

Ross Cohen writes in Quota that there are rather important differences between Washington and Jefferson on one hand and Robert E. Lee on the other. While it is true that all of them owned slaves, the similarities end there.

Donald Trump is saying Robert E. Lee and George Washington are the same. That’s just silly. Who is dumb enough to fall for that?

George Washington and Thomas Jefferson are historically notable for many reasons, most of them positive. Robert E. Lee is known for just one thing.

We could all write blocks of text about how silly this is, but who really has the patience for that?

Trump is known to prefer graphics in his memos and briefings so maybe we can use some simple Venn Diagrams to help explain it. Please excuse my crude graphics design…

What follows are some graphic designs that anyone–even a non-reader–can understand.

In this article, published in Dissent, Leo Casey examines the racist origins of the voucher movement. Casey is executive director of the Albert Shanker Institute, which is a think tank and policy advocacy arm of the American Federation of Teachers. Casey taught in the New York City public schools and was an officer of the United Federation of Teachers.

He writes:

In recent weeks, the issue of private school vouchers has taken center stage in debates over the future of American education. Policy proposals to use public funds for private school tuition vouchers have a long history, dating back to a seminal 1955 essay by Milton Friedman. Over the last twenty-five years, small voucher programs have been established in several states, including Indiana, Florida, Louisiana, Ohio, and Wisconsin, as well as in Washington, D.C.
But the voucher issue took on a new urgency after the election of Donald Trump, given his campaign promise to establish a $20 billion national voucher program. When Trump unveiled his first proposed budget earlier this year, he partnered his program with massive cuts to existing federal education programs, taken largely from funding streams that support the education of students living in poverty. Betsy DeVos, Trump’s secretary of education, is a long-time partisan of vouchers and has been cheerleader in chief for Trump’s education budget cuts and proposed voucher program…

Following the Brown decision, white Southern leaders determined to resist. Nowhere was that resistance more extreme than in Prince Edward County in Virginia:

With the backing of Virginia’s powerful segregationist senator Harry F. Byrd, the white elite of Prince Edward County defied the Brown decision by closing the entire public school system and diverting public education funds into vouchers to be used at a segregated private academy that only white students could attend. As the battles over the implementation of Brown played out, African-American students were denied access to education for five years in a row. Prince Edward County thus stands as an exemplar of the post-Brown segregationist defiance of school integration and the pivotal role of school vouchers in that effort.
An honest appraisal of the events in Prince Edward County poses a major challenge for voucher advocates. This history is thoroughly documented, both in historian Richard Kluger’s authoritative study of Brown and its aftermath and in two excellent scholarly books on the specific events in Prince Edward County, by Christopher Bonastia and Jill Ogline Titus respectively. There is simply no denying the historical connection between the birth of private school voucher policies and segregationist defiance to Brown. But Prince Edward County is only the beginning of the story.

The intellectual guru of the voucher movement was libertarian economist Milton Friedman. His seminal essay on vouchers was published in 1955, at the same time that southerners were thinking up the best ways to defy the Supreme Court’s 1954 Brown decision.

Writing a year after the Brown decision, with segregationist defiance in full bloom, Friedman’s essay explicitly addresses the question of vouchers and school segregation in a lengthy footnote. Readers may be aware that the voucher proposal “has recently been suggested in several southern states as a means of evading the Supreme Court ruling against segregation” and conclude that this is a reason to oppose them, Friedman begins.

But having reflected on this subject, he has decided otherwise.

Friedman’s argument stakes out three positions that most readers will find on their face incongruent. First, he declares: “I deplore segregation and racial prejudice.” Second, though, he avows his opposition to the “forced nonsegregation” of public schools, by which he means the desegregation of public schools that has just been mandated by Brown. Striking a strange posture of neutrality in the great historic battle to abolish Jim Crow segregation that was opened with Brown, he proclaims that he is also opposed to “forced segregation.” Rather, he seeks a third way: the privatization of public education through vouchers. And finally, Friedman contends that in this system of vouchers, parents should be free to send their children to any private school they choose, including “exclusively white schools.” Once public funds are put in private hands in the form of vouchers, he argues, it would be wrong to prohibit their use in support of racially segregated education.

This last position is precisely the posture that enabled and protected segregationist defiance of Brown in Prince Edward County and throughout the South. Indeed, in his book Capitalism and Freedom, Friedman offers explicit approval of the Virginia law that authorized school vouchers, including those used in Prince Edward County, arguing implausibly that it would have the unintended effect of undermining racial segregation. In fact, the law had precisely the intended effect. For the five years before the Supreme Court ruled that Prince Edward County public schools must be reopened, African-American students were deprived of all education, while white students attended a segregated white academy. After Prince Edward County’s public schools were reopened in 1964, they were underfunded (the county spent twice as much on vouchers as it did on its public schools) and only a handful of white students attended them; the great preponderance of white students used vouchers to attend the segregated Prince Edward Academy. In 1969, the courts finally struck down the Virginia voucher law Friedman supported, ruling that it permitted the continuance of racially segregated education.

Casey goes on to analyze Friedman’s views about vouchers and the freedom of the individual to do as he wished, as compared to the government’s responsibility to provide for the common welfare.

Vouchers are Friedman’s libertarian political philosophy in action—educational freedom through privatization, replacing the public provision of education with a marketplace. Nevertheless, they depend on public subsidy: Friedman proposes turning over the public funds used for education to individuals, creating an exclusive property right to use those funds in any private school they choose. Precisely because he sees private school vouchers as a property right, he is unwilling to limit how they may be used: their bearers must be free to choose racially segregated schools. In this ideological vision, one turns a blind eye to the damage done to the education of African-American students by segregated schools—damage that vouchers actively perpetuated post-Brown—even when it stares you in the face.

Vouchers, Casey argues, are multipliers of inequality, as are similar efforts to privatize public provision of public goods and services:

The unregulated market in which Friedman places all his trust is an inequality multiplier. This effect is most readily observed in income inequality and concentrations of wealth, but it is no less present around other axes of inequality, notably around race and around gender. After the end of de jure racial segregation and the desegregation of the public sector in areas such as health care and education, the historic exploitation of African Americans persisted in other forms, including discrimination in the marketplace in employment, housing, and public accommodations. Without government regulation of markets, without the enforceable prohibition of discrimination, there are only a few, limited restraints on that exploitation. Moreover, to the extent that one transforms the public provision of public goods, such as education, into unregulated markets—as Friedman proposed to do with school vouchers—one expands the ways in which racial discrimination may be exercised. To address the inequality multiplier effect of the marketplace—including the inequality born of the historic oppression of African Americans—one needs both government regulation of the marketplace and the public provision of public goods. Yet Friedman opposes both on principle. For him, government is almost always the enemy, even when it is providing positive freedoms.

Despite protestations from rightwing think tanks and policy advocates, the history of vouchers is firmly rooted in segregationist practices.

Try as privatization advocates might, there is no getting around the segregationist history of school vouchers in the United States. From Milton Friedman to the recalcitrant white elites of Prince Edward County and the legislators they voted in, the forerunners of today’s “school choice” movement understood their freedom as the freedom to deny others an equal education. That history continues into the present: empirical studies of vouchers programs in the United States and internationally show that they increase segregation in schools. As a Trump administration that openly appeals to white racial resentment proposes a massive school voucher program, we would be foolish to ignore the policy’s origins.