Teach kids the truth and how to analyze it
By Ian Wright
In this back to school season, millions of American students are returning to classrooms where the wrong course, lesson, or textbook can lead to deep trouble. Why? Because for the last several years, conservative activists and lawmakers have been waging a crusade against “critical race theory,” or CRT.
EDITOR'S NOTE: Locally, this has been especially true at Chariho where ignorant MAGAs and white nationalists have tried to make sure children are not taught anything that challenged a conservative - and usually falsified - version of history. - Will Collette
Critical race theory is an academic concept
acknowledging that racism isn’t simply the result of individual prejudice but
is also embedded in our institutions through laws, regulations, and rules.
As school districts have emphasized, it’s a higher education concept rarely taught
in K-12 schools. But cynical activists have used CRT as a catch-all term to
target a broad range of diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives — and
seemingly any discussion about race and racism in the classroom.
Since January 2021, 44 states have “introduced bills or
taken other steps that would restrict teaching critical race theory or limit
how teachers can discuss racism and sexism,” according to Education Weekly. And as of this writing, UCLA has
identified 807 anti-CRT “bills, resolutions, executive orders,
opinion letters, statements, and other measures” since September 2020.
Critics claim — falsely — that CRT teaches that all
white people are oppressors, while Black people are simply oppressed victims.
Many opponents claim it teaches white students to “hate their own race,” or to
feel guilty about events that happened before they were born.
In reality, CRT gives students of every race the tools to
understand how our institutions treat people of different races unequally — and
how we can make those systems fairer. That’s learning students of every race
would be better off with.
But instead, this barrage of draconian legislation is having a chilling effect on speech in the classroom.
In 2022, Florida passed the “Stop W.O.K.E. Act,” which prohibits teaching that could
lead to a student feeling “discomfort” because of their race, sex, or
nationality. But the law’s vague language makes it difficult for educators to
determine what they can or cannot teach, ultimately restricting classroom
instruction. In my home state of Texas, SB3 similarly restricts these classroom discussions.
Running afoul of these laws can get teachers and school
administrators in trouble. As a result of this hostile environment, the RAND
Corporation found that two-thirds of K-12 school teachers have
decided “to limit instruction about political and social issues in the
classroom.”
Notably, this self-censorship extends beyond states
with such policies: 55 percent of teachers without state or
local restrictions on CRT have still decided to limit classroom discussions of
race and history.
As a student, I find this distressing.
My high school history classes gave me a much richer
understanding of race in our history, especially the discussions we had at the
height of the Black Lives Matter protests. And in college, I’ve gotten to learn
about racial inequalities in everything from housing and real estate to health
care, politics, education, and immigration policy.
As a person of color, I can’t imagine where I’d be without
this understanding. Neither white students nor students of color will benefit
from laws designed to censor their understanding of history, critical thinking,
and open dialogue in the classroom.
The fight against CRT is a fight against the principles of education that encourage us to question, learn, and grow. Rather than shielding students from uncomfortable truths, which they can certainly handle, we should seek to equip them with the knowledge to navigate the world, think critically about our history and institutions, and push for a more inclusive country.
Ian Wright is a Henry A. Wallace Fellow at the Institute for Policy Studies and a student at Rice University from Dallas, Texas. This op-ed was distributed by OtherWords.org.