Statement on American Pageant
Pat Graff
La Cueva High School, New Mexico

Eds note: In the fall of 2005, a parent of an AP American History student at Highland High School in Albuquerque picked up a copy of American Pageant, a text sent home for his daughter to use during the year as she studied the course. The parent, Tony Watkins, found many of the passages and word choices in the book to be especially offensive, particularly with regards to comments made about minority groups. He petitioned the school to have the book taken away from the approved textbook list. His petition was denied, so he filed an appeal with the district, Albuquerque Public Schools.

See "Albuquerque Public Schools in Battle over U.S. History Textbook," Albuquerque Tribune. Nov. 15, 2005, at http://www1.abqtrib.com/albq/nw_education/article/0,2564,ALBQ_19857_4240255,00.html  

The appeals process included two public hearings in front of a panel of 12 individuals, including administrators, parents, teachers, and community members. I was one of two teacher representatives to serve on the panel (I'm an English and social studies teacher at La Cueva High School in Albuquerque). The appealing parent, as well as teachers of the course, curriculum administrators, and community members presented diverse views about the book. The panel ultimately voted unanimously to allow the book to continue to be used by Highland High School.

As a member of this panel, as a social studies and English teacher in this district for 29 years, as a member of this wonderfully diverse community here in Albuquerque, I am appalled at the not-even-subtle racism and derogatory statements found in this supplemental textbook, American Pageant. As I listened to the detailed examples provided by Mr. Tony Watkins, a concerned parent who should be praised for his diligence in this matter, I had to shake my head at the insensitivity of some of the word choices and factual discrepancies made by the authors. The individual parents’ impassioned pleas for more cultural sensitivity echoed my own thoughts. The protective grandmother in me doesn’t want my own beautiful multiracial grandchildren—who are wonderful mixes of European, Hispanic, African American, and Jewish cultures—to be exposed to the inherent bias and evil found in this book.

But as an educator, journalist, and citizen I am also vehemently opposed to banning materials for our younger citizens to read, see, hear, and discuss. If American history was all sweetness and light, the triumph of good over evil, the unequivocal emphasis of fairness or bigotry, then our children and my grandchildren wouldn’t need to see the ugly. American history, we know, is ugly. It’s full of hideous atrocities, gross indignities, terrible injustices. I know.

You see, I have stood on the banks of the Washita River in western Oklahoma and imagined the horror of General George Armstrong Custer’s attack on defenseless Cheyenne, mostly women and children, on that blustery day in 1868.

I’ve shuddered in the relative splendor of Mount Vernon, as I stood in the shambles of the slave quarters’ ruins, aching with my being for all those wonderful souls who were born, used, enslaved, and died with no personal freedom or hope.

I’ve cried on the curb of the Baptist church in Birmingham, Alabama, trying to push back the horror and pain for the four little girls who came to church on Sunday morning and were massacred by a bigot’s bomb.

I’ve found and paid homage to Felix Longoria, a Hispanic American who fought against the Axis Powers in WWII, who died in the fighting but was denied a hero’s funeral in Texas because of his heritage. Longoria is not buried in his hometown but in Arlington, Virginia, 1,500 miles from his home. I honored him in Virginia because his people in his own state would not give him his due.

When Anita Hill testified to the US Senate in the early 1990’s about sexual harassment, my heart broke for her. We shared the same college dorm her freshman year, and even then she was suffering discrimination as the only African American woman in our dorm. I reached out to her all that year, inviting her to dine at our table and encouraging her participation in events. Even then she was an amazing woman who never did deserve the scorn heaped upon her later.

I’ve stood on the sacred mesa of Acoma and wondered at the evil in humanity that would ever do to those gentle people the kind of atrocities done to them by European conquerors in the 1500’s. I wonder to this day at the power of forgiveness they have shown us.

I’ve taken students to Kuaua (Coronado Monument), Santa Fe, Las Vegas, New Mexico and many other places primarily to help them understand many of the horrible historical events that are a part of our national heritage, in hopes that perhaps my students will have the knowledge and resolve to be sure these hate crimes do not continue to happen.

I’ve stood above the remains of the USS Arizona with Japanese tourists as we ponder the sunken ship in what is now a peaceful Pearl Harbor, recognizing together with my fellow tourists that hate is indeed a powerful, potent weapon.

I’ve wept at the modest memorial to Woon Soon Yi, a young Korean man who went to his Methodist church in Bloomington, Indiana, one sad summer Sunday in 1999 and was gunned down by a white racist who hated the diversity in our country.

And I have stood in the shadow of the shell of the Alfred P. Murrah Building, in Oklahoma City in 1995, before it was leveled and a beautiful monument built. I stood and gazed at the wreckage and sheer carnage brought to a peaceful town by a few men’s hatred, crying for the 168 victims and for the continuing fear with which we all now live.

I KNOW that American history is not pretty. In fact, its ugliness and all the wrongs committed against its peoples—indigenous and new—are horrible.

The authors of the book in question, at least in numerous parts, don’t seem to know what I know, what Mr. Watkins knows, what many parents in our community know. It is a shame that although they have had 13 opportunities to revise their book, they seem to have chosen not to do so. I’m not sure I would choose to use the text in my classroom, but that would be my professional call with knowledge of my students and my community.

But here’s what else I know.

I know that after hearing the testimony of two of my professional colleagues at Highland High School, that our students are not being fed the material in this book as propaganda or facts. Students are being encouraged to look at a variety of materials, primary sources, and differing viewpoints. As one of my former journalism students so eloquently put it, “Works are dissected, discussed, and discovered in the classroom.” Sometimes by reading the worst—but in an academic environment—students are better equipped to deal with the ignorance, the racism, the hate. Of course this must be done in a nurturing environment. I have heard nothing so far that convinces me that this is not the case.

What I have heard is that there are serious flaws in several processes with regards to the Advanced Placement use of this text and others like it. If there is a bias in the way the test is written, that must be fixed. If the state’s process for selecting texts is flawed, that must be addressed. If there are not sufficient resources to tell all the stories of our glorious peoples in New Mexico, then we must solicit them, publish them, purchase them. If I have learned nothing else with my involvement in this process, I have learned that the larger system has some serious deficiencies which we must, as citizens, continue to address.

But when we talk about banning one book, we begin the ride down the slippery slope. What seems to be inappropriate for one group of students may actually serve a valuable educational purpose. What one group deems as inappropriate for some students may be a powerful learning experience for others. Several years ago, my own school dealt with a group of parents who wanted Rudolfo Anaya’s beautiful coming of age book, Bless Me Ultima, banned from the school reading list. I worked to preserve our students’ right to read then, and I will continue to do so. Many groups do not want Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn read in classrooms any more because of the prolific use of the “N” word. Yes, the vernacular is hateful, and I would never allow my students to use the word in any way. But, the book itself is one of the most powerful statements AGAINST racism and slavery in our literary canon. Jim the slave is the hero of the book. My students would come to understand that, and the books would have been an important tool for that lesson. You see, the TEACHING matters.

I am not yet prepared to start that ride down that slippery slope of banning a book, even though I personally object to much in this particular book. I am infinitely respectful of all the opinions and concerns voiced in these hearings and think good will come from them. However, I cannot in good conscience, as a professional educator, as a supporter of personal freedoms and rights, vote to ban the book. I trust in my colleagues, and their incredibly bright students, to see the problems in the book. Maybe from their lessons will come even better, brighter moments in our future.