“In God We Trust” (Or Else)

June 6, 2021June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

There are certainly plenty of wonderful individual people of faith around, including many Christians.

I feel obligated to open with this acknowledgement (disclaimer?) because my next several posts are going to focus on clashes between religious folks and public education which have been in the news recently, and it seems like every time you come across a story about someone asserting their Christian beliefs via legislation or the courts, they’re doing it for one of three reasons: (1) they want more government money for something without having to follow the same rules as everyone else, (2) they want the government to like their religion best and tell everyone about it more often because that’s “freedom of religion,” or (3) they want to be horrible to some group of people everyone else is supposed to be kind to.

All in all, it doesn’t paint a very flattering picture of the group as a whole. Then again, we’ve seen their voting habits, so…

Texas Demands Empty Proclamations of Faith Without Substance

The Texas State Legislature has passed a bill requiring that any public schools which just happen to end up with one or more “In God We Trust” signs in their possession post them as prominently as possible. (As of this writing, it’s waiting on the Governor’s signature.) Presumably, they’re hoping this will pass constitutional muster thanks to a combination of factors:

The signage will be donated, not paid for by state tax dollars.
“In God We Trust” is our national motto – a statement of patriotism (supposedly), not religion.
The Supreme Court has previously ruled that some religious statements are so drained of meaning as to no longer trigger “wall of separation” issues.

The “national motto” thing is a remnant of our 1950s terror of all things Communist. If spiritual purity and a commitment to capitalism weren’t synonyms before World War II, they certainly became so by the time of color television. The Commies were “godless,” so one way the U.S. could stand tall was to insert things like “under God” into the Pledge of Allegiance and make “In God We Trust” our official national motto. (For those of you unfamiliar with the teachings of Jesus, he was very big on public rituals and governmental gestures of support.)

This conflation of all things red, white, and blue with orthodox Christianity has only intensified since. In the hearts and minds of the controlling (and voting) majority of American faithful, you can’t love Jesus and favor gun control legislation. You can’t take communion and oppose tax breaks for the uber-wealthy. And it’s easier for an elephant to go through restorative justice training than for a Black man to have equal rights in the eyes of the law because look they must have been asking for it or they wouldn’t have the mark of Cain to begin with. It’s hardly a coincidence that the same Texas legislature pushing the “In God We Trust” signage passed a law requiring sports teams to play the National Anthem before every game.

From FoxNews.com:

Texas Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick was a staunch advocate for the bill, dubbed the “Star Spangled Banner Protection Act.” The measure was first introduced in February after the Dallas Mavericks briefly stopped playing the national anthem before their home games.
“Texans are tired of sports teams that pander, insulting our national anthem and the men and women who died fighting for our flag,” Patrick said in a statement in April. “The passage of SB 4 will ensure Texans can count on hearing the Star Spangled Banner at major sports events throughout the state that are played in venues that taxpayers support. We must always remember that America is the land of the free and the home of the brave.”

Notice the title – the “Star Spangled Banner Protection Act.” Because patriotism, like faith, apparently can’t survive without government propping it up by force. Note also the claim that American soldiers fight and die “for our flag.” Not our values, not our Constitution, and certainly not our people – for the cloth and the symbols and the rituals.

I won’t even try to make sense of mandating adherence to a ritual in order to remind us we’re the land of the free. Modern GOP “reality” gives me a headache. Instead, back to those godless public schools…

“Ceremonial Deism”

In 2004, the Supreme Court heard a case involving the “under God” bit added to the Pledge in the 1950s. A non-custodial parent objected to his daughter being exposed to this daily chant of devotion in her local public school. The Court avoided deciding the case on its merits, finding instead that the plaintiff lacked standing to sue (the girl’s mother, who legally had custody, had no objections to the Pledge).
Several concurring opinions, however, indicated that had they addressed the issue itself, the Pledge would have been fine. The best-known was this bit from Justice Sandra Day O’Connor:

Given the values that the Establishment Clause was meant to serve… I believe that government can… acknowledge or refer to the divine without offending the Constitution. This category of “ceremonial deism” most clearly encompasses such things as the national motto (“In God We Trust”), religious references in traditional patriotic songs such as The Star-Spangled Banner, and the words with which the Marshal of this Court opens each of its sessions (“God save the United States and this honorable Court”). These references are not minor trespasses upon the Establishment Clause to which I turn a blind eye. Instead, their history, character, and context prevent them from being constitutional violations at all.

In other words, “under God” was no more spiritual than saying “bless you” when someone sneezed or “OMG!” when you see a cool TikTok video. It was purely ceremonial, stripped of substance by repetition and years of historical impotence.

That’s what Texas is going for with their motto requirement – something barely constitutional because it lacks the slightest spiritual or religious meaning in the eyes of the courts or, presumably, the citizenry at large. Otherwise, it would be blatantly unconstitutional.

A Moment Of Pray—Er… Silence

The same basic approach was taken by numerous states when passing “moment of silence” legislation. These laws require school announcements each day to include 3-4 seconds of silence (some statutes specify a full minute) during which students can “reflect, meditate, or pray” or some variation thereof. These laws pass constitutional muster because they’re so pointless. Sure, kids can pray – but they don’t have to. Of course, they can also pray silently before the moment of silence, or after it. Kids have never ever EVER in the history of the United States been prohibited from praying silently during the school day, or from praying collectively and out loud on school grounds as long as it’s not in the middle of class. Never.

Legislators tried the same disingenuous strategy with the Ten Commandments as well, but the “HOW IS THAT RELIGIOUS?!?” argument somehow didn’t stick with that one. Opening with “Thou shalt have no other gods before me” kinda gave it away.

So if these moments and postings and such are neutered, meaningless symbols, why do some legislators fight so hard to make them happen?

Conservatives have somehow persuaded a majority of religious voters that these little token victories – the ones that slide past First Amendment concerns specifically because they lack substance – are somehow pushing Jesus back into public schools or securing God’s blessings on America. Mumbling “under God” or posting “In God We Trust” operates as a sort of code phrase, opening a spiritual portal for the Lord Almighty to swoop back in and take His rightful place in the big leather chair in the principal’s office. Statues become woodland creatures again, teenagers stop being interested in sex or any music recorded after 1957, and Common Core was never even invented, let alone mandated by many of these exact same legislators.

(OK, that last one wouldn’t be so bad.)

Let There Be (Gas)Light

In other words, the only reason to pass these laws is because those supporting them believe they ARE statements of faith. They DO matter in distinguishing America’s official religion (which they’re willing to pretend isn’t official in order to secure it as such) from all of those other belief systems (which have no place in public schools because of the First Amendment).

Religious legislators have learned to go through the motions of manufacturing pseudo-secular reasons for these theological breaches. They assert that a “moment of silence” rewrites the chemistry of the teenage brain each morning or that the Ten Commandments are purely historical context for the U.S. Constitution (despite the two having not so much as a single line in common). The trick is to do this while still celebrating the banishment of the White Witch from Narnia with their constituents, who believe their nation is so great and their God so powerful that neither can survive without such gestures.

Legislators aren’t the only ones perfectly aware of the power of these little religious “victories.” They’re a reminder to anyone outside the cell group that they don’t belong. You atheists, Buddhists, Hindus, or Muslims, along with you LGBTQ+ teens and anyone else who isn’t showing proper deference to state-mandated religious and patriotic rituals – you can stay for now, but you are outsiders. You. Don’t. Count. And honestly, you’re ruining everything for the good people – the ones who believe and do the right things, in unison, whenever we’re told.

If you think I’m overstating it, go visit another country for a few years where the dominant culture is different than yours and send your kids to school there. Or just ask one of those gay or atheist types you don’t let your kids hang out with. Maybe they’ll try to explain it.

The Governor has about ten days from the time a bill is presented to either sign or veto it in Texas. You’ll know if it becomes law because you’ll hear a cock crow three times.

The Interstate Commerce Act & The ICC (from “Have To” History)

June 4, 2021June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

Stuff You Don’t Really Want To Know (But For Some Reason Have To) About… the Interstate Commerce Act & the Interstate Commerce Commission

Three Big Things:

1. After several states attempted to limit the power of railroads and grain storage facilities on behalf of farmers and other citizens, Congress passed the Interstate Commerce Act (1887). This established the Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC) to regulate railroads, including their shipping rates and route choices.

2. The ICC was the first federal regulatory agency; it’s “success” spawned hundreds of others in subsequent decades. When you hear people complain about “big government,” these are a big part of what they mean. At the same time, they remind us that economic systems are not natural rights; they’re practical mechanisms designed to serve the largest number of people in the most efficient ways possible – at least in theory.

3. Ideally, regulatory agencies attempt to balance the good of society and the general public with the rights of companies to make reasonable profits from providing useful goods and services. They oversee “public services” – things considered essential for most citizens but which don’t easily lend themselves to a competitive marketplace due to the infrastructure required or the necessary scale of the service.

Context

The second half of the nineteenth century was one of America’s greatest (and most controversial) eras of expansion. Rugged, individualistic homesteaders navigated bureaucracy and accepted government oversight to secure their own plots of government-sponsored land in the west, where the government was hard at work clearing out the local populace on their behalf. Railroads, arguably the most poignant symbol of progress in all of Americana, were bravely, capitalistically accepting massive government land grants in exchange for laying their tracks across the Great Plains and finally connecting one coast with another. Along the way they manipulated local townships into catering to their every fiscal whim, lest they destroy them by altering course and instead bestow their blessings on communities more willing to kiss their caboose.

For railroads, more miles of track, continued national expansion, and the vast quantities of crops farmers were shipping further and further from where they were grown meant increased profits and political influence. For farmers, on the other hand, more land, technological advances, and increased production meant lower prices, endless struggles, and increased debt just to stay in the game. Eventually, traditionally individualistic farmers began forming collectives – the Grange, the Farmers’ Alliance, etc. – and pressuring their state and local governments to balance the scales a bit. They weren’t looking for handouts, just some restraints on what they saw as unchecked corporate power and greed. It wasn’t long before other segments of society began adding their voices in support.

Regulating For The Public Good

In Munn v. Illinois (1877), the Supreme Court determined that it was perfectly constitutional for a state to regulate industries within its borders, including capping the amounts grain elevators and storage warehouses were allowed to charge for their services. As the Court explained,

When one becomes a member of society, he necessarily parts with some rights or privileges which, as an individual not affected by his relations to others, he might retain. “A body politic,” as aptly defined in the preamble of the Constitution of Massachusetts, “is a social compact by which the whole people covenants with each citizen, and each citizen with the whole people, that all shall be governed by certain laws for the common good.”
This does not confer power upon the whole people to control rights which are purely and exclusively private… but it does authorize the establishment of laws requiring each citizen to so conduct himself, and so use his own property, as not unnecessarily to injure another. This is the very essence of government.

In other words, capitalism is all very fine and well, and the individual’s (or even the corporation’s) right to property and profit is important – but only because this economic approach presumably serves a larger good. The U.S. doesn’t practice a form of free market economics because it’s holy and just to do so – it’s a pragmatic decision based on the perceived shortcomings of alternative economic systems in comparison. (To paraphrase Winston Churchill, “Capitalism is the worst economic system except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.”)

Munn marked as well as anything the birth of the idea that governments can and should regulate industries deemed essential to the general welfare. At the time, that primarily meant stuff related to farming and the distribution of crops, but it would eventually encompass any number of public “utilities” (electricity, water, gas, etc.) as well as some transportation systems, television and radio broadcasting, and even trash pickup.

Many would argue that as society and technology continue to evolve, the same sorts of regulation should apply to internet access, cell phone plans, and even health care and other medical services. While it’s usually pretty easy to find a new burger joint if the one you liked before starts skimping on fries or changes their menu, it’s harder to change gas companies. The local sewer service rarely competes for your business, and only a small percentage of American homeowners get to actually choose who provides their electricity – let alone at what rate. Anytime laissez-faire capitalism would result in an “essential” service being reserved for the elite few, government steps in and makes everyone play nice. Companies providing valuable services deserve to make a reasonable profit, but not at the cost of the larger social good – or so the reasoning goes.

In the late nineteenth century, however, it was primarily grain storage and railroad rates.

The Commerce Clause Wins Again

Not quite a decade after Munn, the Court revised its opinion while pretending it was simply picking up where it left off. Wabash, St. Louis and Pacific Railway Company v. Illinois (1886) clarified that while states had the right to regulate industries within their borders, that power didn’t extend beyond state lines. Just because a railroad route began in Chicago, that didn’t mean the Illinois legislature could dictate shipping rates or other policies as it choo-choo-ed through Iowa or Missouri. This was “interstate commerce” in the truest sense of the term, making it the exclusive province of Congress – whether they chose to act on it or not.

Congress finally took the hint and created the very first federal “regulatory agency” – the Interstate Commerce Commission – in 1887. The ICC was charged with overseeing railroads and shipping of all sorts, and set strict guidelines for how the railroads could do business. Rates had to be the same for short trips as for long, and for all customers, however much or little they shipped. Railroads couldn’t even offer special packages for “preferred destinations.”

The specific rules weren’t the important part, however. These were modified or eliminated as technology, transportation, and society evolved. The important thing was the idea that government could and should set limits on important industries for the good of society. In practice, this usually means federal government. It’s nearly impossible today to find a good or service functioning purely “intrastate.” States can sometimes add to regulations while the good or service is withing their purview, but not beyond.

Over the next century, hundreds of federal agencies would be created in the image of the ICC. While Congress still established guidelines and priorities, agency directors and bureaucrats were left with the detail work – writing the actual rules and at times even taking part in enforcement. When you hear people complain about the unending nightmare of red tape, small print, and regulatory burdens on pretty much everything, this is what they mean. The positive side is that the meat you bought at the store today is probably not rotten and your kids’ clothes probably won’t burst into flames anytime the sun is too bright. The negative side is that unchecked bureaucracy tends to grow like the demonic kudzu and has proven nearly impossible to restrain, let alone prune back. No one can even agree on how many federal regulatory agencies there are, let alone which ones are necessary or what at each of them is actually in charge of.

The ICC was dissolved in 1995 after most of its regulatory power had been reduced or stripped away. Its few remaining functions were transferred to yet another agency – the “Surface Transportation Board” (as opposed to all those other sorts of transportation) which operates under the “U.S. Department of Transportation.” The Secretary of Transportation, in turn, reports directly to the President.

How Do I Remember This? (And Why It Matters)

Much of American history can be viewed as an ongoing struggle between freedom and security – nationally, locally, legally, socially, and – as in this case – economically. Just like in school, too little freedom stifles innovation and productivity; too much freedom leads to chaos, abuse, and a breakdown of the system.

The Interstate Commerce Act and ICC were the federal government’s first major effort to restrict what big business could and couldn’t do in an effort to ensure the results served everyone, not just those already at the top of the economic ladder. The resulting arguments would sound surprisingly familiar nearly a century-and-a-half later. Is it better to let big business run free or rein it in from time to time? Is government better or worse than raw capitalism at meeting the needs of the people as a whole over time? Do the basic rights guaranteed to American citizens as individuals apply to corporations as well?

If the answer to any of these questions seems obvious or easy, you’re doing it wrong.

The ICC, while no longer with us, remains the granddaddy of all federal bureaucracy and regulation. From the “alphabet agencies” of the New Deal to the half-dozen different agencies which today dictate the minutia of salmon treatment, processing, costs, transportation, and preparation long before you squeeze lemon on it at your local chain restaurant – they can all be traced back to the Interstate Commerce Commission… for better or worse.

What You’re Most Likely To Be Asked

It’s unlikely you’ll be asked to recognize or analyze the language of the Interstate Commerce Act itself (it’s not that readable). Instead, make sure you understand its connection to pretty much everything else going on at the time. It’s also a nice precursor to discussing populism (the late 19th century version) or even the Progressive movements of the early 20th century. They were all about using government to balance the power of big business against the needs of the “common man.”

In APUSH, Period 6 (1865-1898) is packed with standards related to economic development and industrial growth. The rest mostly involve westward expansion and the farmers movement (“populism”). The ICC is about both, particularly in relation to one another. Knowing the basics will help you add relevant details for any prompt related to government regulation, important Supreme Court decisions of the nineteenth century, or early efforts by farmers to push back against big businesses. It should always be mentioned when speaking or writing about railroads in this period as well. It may not be the single most important thing from this half-century, but it connects to almost everything else happening at the time – and that makes it mighty useful for making yourself look knowledgeable. (KC-6.1.III, KC-6.3, KC-6.3.II, and others)

Utah’s Core Social Studies Standards pose a question many teachers love asking in some form:

How could industrial leaders be considered both “captains of industry” and “robber barons”? (U.S. II Strand I – Industrialization)

It’s a topic typically addressed while covering the Gilded Age (closer to the start of the twentieth century), but it’s a great chance to reference events associated with the creation of the ICC. Railroads were essential to American growth and progress, as were grain storage facilities, banks, and other “wicked witch” industries of the late nineteenth century. At the same time, they tended to exploit and discard anyone non-essential to their continued growth and power. It was capitalism at its most dichotomous (the whole point of the question).

If you’re not feeling that bold, chances are good you’ll be asked something along the lines of this substandard from Utah. Some variation of this is present in over half of all state social studies standards:

Students will assess how innovations in transportation, science, agriculture, manufacturing, technology, communication, and marketing transformed America in the 19th and early 20th centuries. (U.S. II Standard 1.1)

At the very least you should recognize the ICC as the first federal regulatory agency and railroads as the first federally regulated industry.

Bonus Points: How To Sound Like You Know More Than You Do

Congress’s authority to regulate interstate commerce is found in Article I, Section 8 of the U.S. Constitution. As a practical matter, this means that Congress can regulate almost anything by tying it in some way to interstate commerce – a power confirmed by the Supreme Court a half-century before in one of those “must know” cases, Gibbons v. Ogden (1824). Combined with the “Necessary and Proper Clause” (also in Article I, Section 8; confirmed by McCulloch v. Maryland, 1819), Congress and its regulatory power became virtually unchallengeable. Throw in details like what’s covered above, then thoughtfully note that this same basic tension – big government vs. small, the Hamiltonian approach vs. the Jeffersonian approach, etc. – is still a fundamental source of conflict between the two major parties today. (You’ll have literally covered the entire range of American history in a single observation.)

If your teacher seems to lean a bit conservative (they gripe about “those people” or refer to the Civil War as “the war of Northern Aggression,” etc.), you might ingratiate yourself by referring to the current web of federal regulations (which started with the ICC) as “Kafkaesque.” Kafka was a novelist who specialized in the bizarre, especially when it involved protagonists overwhelmed by systems or powers beyond their understanding or control but forced to go along with them anyway. Remember the guy who wakes up as a giant cockroach one day and we never find out why? That was his. “Kafkaesque” is a nice literary touch and should tingle their little conservative hearts without actually committing you to any particular worldview.

Above all else, avoid taking easy positions on the “good” or “bad” of railroads, regulation, farmers’ demands, or even the ICC itself. Always reference specifics while nevertheless acknowledging the inherent complexity and the valid claims of both (or all) sides – freedom, competition, and capitalism on one side and a reasonable opportunity for individuals to succeed (or at least survive) on the other. That’s what makes it interesting – the lack of easy answers.

The XYZ Affair (from “Have To” History)

May 27, 2021June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

Stuff You Don’t Really Want To Know (But For Some Reason Have To) About… the “XYZ Affair”

Three Big Things

1. France was mad because the U.S. was making nice with England, who France had only recently helped them break away from and who France hated most of the time anyway.

2. U.S. efforts to make nice with France led to serious drama when French representatives (code names “X,” “Y,” and “Z”) made demands the U.S. contingent found offensive.

3. The resulting kerfuffle led to a “Quasi-War” abroad and more pronounced divisions between political parties at home before being resolved by a new round of diplomacy and a new treaty. The dispute also prompted the Federalists to push through the infamous Alien and Sedition Acts (which didn’t turn out all that well).

Background

If you’ve seen Hamilton (or at least listened to the soundtrack), you might be surprised to learn that many of the characters and events portrayed were based on real people and events in American history. Seriously, there should have been a note on the program or something to that effect. It would have added a whole other dimension to the experience.

In any case, I refer you to one of the highlights of the second act, “Cabinet Battle #2”:

The issue on the table: France is on the verge of war with England. Now do we provide aid and troops to our French allies, or do we stay out of it? … Secretary Jefferson, you have the floor, sir…

Jefferson, as you may recall, thought it was a complete no-brainer that the U.S. should jump in and assist France. French aid had tipped the balance in the Revolutionary War and their rhetoric was rooted in the same Enlightenment ideals that inspired the colonies to rebel in the first place. Hamilton thought getting involved was a horrible idea, particularly since the folk with whom they’d actually signed a treaty (the King and Queen) were dead at that point, beheaded by French revolutionaries. President Washington agreed with Hamilton, and in the very next number (“it must be nice… it must be nice… to have Washington on your side…”) the nation’s first two political parties were formed – right there on stage. It wasn’t the beginning of tensions over how the new nation should be run, but it certainly helped clarify and solidify the sides.

The Federalists (think Alexander Hamilton) were pushing for a strong central government and a more unified nation. Despite the recent Revolutionary War, Federalists still tended to see the world through English eyes. It was the Federalists who’d pushed for the Constitution (which replaced the much looser Articles of Confederation) and who relied on the “three branches” system to keep the government checked and balanced. If taken to the extreme, their approach to the Constitution was that anything it didn’t strictly prohibit was probably OK.

The Anti-Federalists, better known as the Democratic-Republicans (who didn’t officially include “Southern M*****-F******” as part of their title), were less enthused about strong central government. They worried that the young nation would fall back into the same patterns and problems they’d had under King George. Democratic-Republicans loved the revolutionary fervor of the French and believed that agriculture and local control were the keys to extending and strengthening the enlightened, independent nature of their new country. The Constitution gave government specific functions and powers, and anything beyond that was a leap into corruption and self-destruction. Historians often refer to this group as the “Jeffersonian Republicans” because, you know… Jefferson.

How to handle France wasn’t the ONLY issue dividing these emerging parties, but it was pretty high on the list.

Jay’s Treaty (1794)

Right after giving France their promise ring, however, Uncle Sam** slid right back into making goo-goo eyes with his ex, England. Washington and other Federalists were more pragmatic than they were idealistic; they had little interest in endless conflict with the world’s most powerful nation. They signed a treaty resolving several points of contention: the British agreed to pull out of the Northwest Territory and to leave American shipping alone (although that one didn’t exactly last) while the U.S. paid off some outstanding debts to British merchants. Both sides compromised a bit on shared boundaries. Perhaps most importantly, the treaty laid the groundwork for a positive trading relationship with England.

It’s amazing how many things can be worked out when there’s money to be made.

France saw this as a betrayal of all they’d thought they meant to the U.S., particularly after they’d sacrificed so much to help the young nation win its independence… from the very nation it was now making all cuddly with! France and England had been in recurring conflict since roughly the Neolithic Era, so Uncle Sam’s insistence that they were just friends (albeit with benefits) rang hollow. France began attacking American shipping, which hurt America’s feelings and kinda ruined how nice it was that England had finally stopped doing it.

In the middle of this madness, George Washington decided not to run for a third term in 1796. (“One last time… we’ll teach them how to say goodbye…”). The unenviable task of following the Father of the Nation into office fell to John Adams with Thomas Jefferson as VP, which was tricky since they were from different political parties – Adams was a Federalist, and Jefferson, well… was not.

The Adams Tightrope

President John Adams wanted to patch things up with France but without alienating England. He wasn’t the towering figure Washington had been and often made decisions based on how he thought things should work instead of how they did.

To be fair, Washington had struggled on this front as well. Before leaving office, he’d appointed Charles Pinckney as the U.S. “Minister to France.” It wasn’t a great match. Pinckney was a staunch Federalist from an essentially aristocratic background – the exact sort of person the French were gleefully beheading on a regular basis at the time. Adams hoped to do better.

He conferred with his VP, Jefferson, who suggested sending Madison – a Democratic-Republican with revolutionary street cred and who knew how to speak liberté, égalité, and fraternité. Instead, Adams chose the safer political path and selected more Federalists – the party who hated France to begin with and couldn’t relate to them at all. They arrived in Paris disgusted with the people, the politics, and the culture in general – not the ideal foundation for diplomacy. The French Foreign Minister, Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, originally refused to see them. Eventually he sent word through intermediaries that a meeting might be arranged if the Americans agreed in advance to pay off all claims made by American merchants against France, loan France a ton of money at rock-bottom interest rates, and offer Talleyrand a substantial bribe just to get things going.

In better dynamics, these might have served as a starting point for under-the-table negotiations. As things were, it merely offended and annoyed the American coterie. They wrote back to President Adams, who in turn informed Congress that things weren’t going well and that maybe they should start preparing for the possibility of war. Not wanting to stir things up more than they already were, or risk the safety of his representatives in France, Adams substituted letters – W, X, Y, and Z – for the names of the French go-betweens. The subsequent kerfuffle, then, could just as easily have become known as the ABC Affair, the WXYZ Conflict, or the Beta Epsilon Gamma Kappa Shenanigans. He also withheld numerous details of exactly what was going badly, informing them merely that the French were being uncooperative and things could get ugly.

Well… uglier.

Let Me Be Frank(ophile) With You

France had by this time closed its ports to ships from any nation not totally “Team France” and had granted permission to French vessels to capture and search any ship they suspected of carrying British goodies – which could be any of them. Congress nevertheless insisted on getting the full TMZ report before taking further action. It passed resolutions and called Adams all sorts of bad names (although that last part wasn’t exactly new). Eventually, Adams released the letters from his representatives in France, including the demands made by X, Y, and Z.

The Democratic-Republicans simply couldn’t believe anything negative about their revolutionary brethren across the ocean. Surely Adams was lying, or the emissaries had misunderstood, or – and this one was a crowd favorite – Talleyrand’s demands were a natural result of Adam’s push for a military buildup, despite those two things having occurred in the opposite order, many months apart. (No sense letting a little thing like objective reality interfere with a good political barrage.)

American outrage was about what one would expect for a generation still drunk on the patriotic fervor of its own revolution. “Millions for defense but not one cent for tribute!” cried the masses. War was never officially declared, but this “Quasi-War” was definitely a few shoves and swear words past being “at peace.”

À La Réflexion…

Talleyrand had by this point realized he’d miscalculated and things weren’t going the way he’d hoped. He began scrambling to reopen negotiations with the U.S. while navigating revolution at home which was becoming increasingly unpredictable and bloody. Napoleon was rapidly gaining power as well, and while he loved a good scrap as much as anyone, the General was more interested in using France’s claim on Louisiana Territory (which was technically owned by Spain at the time) to help finance war in Europe.

President Adams sent new representatives to France, thus averting a real war. They eventually reached a new agreement – the Convention of 1800. (It’s also called the Treaty of Mortefontaine, but seriously – who even wants to try saying that, let alone remembering it?)

Hostilities ceased. France gave back America’s boats and the U.S. agreed to reimburse owners for any losses incurred as a result. Perhaps most importantly, France and the U.S. agreed to be trading besties again, although the U.S. was not required to quit seeing England in order to do so. This was to be something of an “open partnership.” As long as the brides didn’t have to share a bed or anything, they’d ignore one another and make it work.

Why It Matters

Public backlash to the Federalist handling of the affair contributed to the election of Thomas Jefferson, which in turn led to the Louisiana Purchase, the establishment of the U.S. Military Academy, and the end of the (legal) slave trade in the U.S. While it’s likely most of this would have occurred with or without Jefferson in the White House, the specifics likely would have unfolded quite differently, and it’s impossible to say what THAT might have looked like.

The XYZ Affair was the first major foreign policy dilemma faced by the young United States. It presented a question they’d be faced with many times over the coming centuries – when is it better to fight on principle and when does it make more sense to compromise in order to keep things running smoothly and peacefully The treaties with England and France helped the young nation continue building its economy, which over time became a major source of strength and influence (and remains so today).

Perhaps most importantly, repeated clashes over which foreign powers to support (and to what extent) led to the passage of the infamous Alien and Sedition Acts. These you should already know about because (a) they’re relatively easy to understand and remember and (b) they don’t even sound boring. If anything, the moniker oversells them a bit.

How To Remember This

The most important things about the XYZ Affair weren’t really the details of the situation itself but what it revealed about the U.S. at the time and its impact on the nation going forward. It highlighted some of the key differences between the two major political parties (despite many of the Founding Fathers going to great lengths to avoid parties existing to begin with) as well as the growing strength and influence of the U.S. in world affairs. It led to the Quasi-War, the Alien and Sedition Acts, and renewed peace with France (without sacrificing peace with England). The U.S. slung enough testosterone to demonstrate it wished to be treated like one of the big kids while going to great lengths to avoid actual war.

The jilted lover analogy hinted at above isn’t without its problems, but it’s tawdry and inappropriate – just like France and their Democratic-Republican mistresses. Anyone horrified by the comparison is probably a British sympathizer just like the Federalists with all their rules and order and financial security. The Jeffersonians, on the other hand, were all about freedom and slogans and running naked through arable fields of enlightened rule.

What You’re Likely To Be Asked

This one lends itself readily to either multiple choice questions (with “The XYZ Affair” as the correct answer) or prompts asking about challenges confronting the young nation, particularly in reference to foreign affairs. It also comes up regularly in questions about early political parties, often as an example of issues over which they disagreed.

The Texas eighth grade TEKS include this:

(5) History. The student understands the challenges confronted by the government and its leaders in the early years of the republic and the Age of Jackson. The student is expected to… (C) explain the origin and development of American political parties… (E) identify the foreign policies of presidents Washington through Monroe…

Most other state standards include similar rhetoric – political parties, foreign policy, economic stability, etc.

APUSH, too, loves it some XYZ Affair. One of the primary themes – “American in the World (WOR)” seems tailor-made for discussing this event:

Diplomatic, economic, cultural, and military interactions between empires, nations, and peoples shape the development of America and America’s increasingly important role in the world.

Learning Objective ‘L’ is equally applicable:

Explain how and why political ideas, institutions, and party systems developed and changed in the new republic.

Numerous content standards connect in some way, two quite directly:

War between France and Britain resulting from the French Revolution presented challenges to the United States over issues of free trade and foreign policy and fostered political disagreement. (KC-3.3.II.B)
Political leaders in the 1790s took a variety of positions on issues such as the relationship between the national government and the states, economic policy, foreign policy, and the balance between liberty and order. This led to the formation of political parties – most significantly the Federalists, led by Alexander Hamilton, and the Democratic-Republican Party, led by Thomas Jefferson and James Madison. (KC-3.2.III.B)

How To Sound Like You Know More Than You Do

If you can keep track of 80% of the details and interwoven issues involved in the XYZ Affair, you don’t have to shoot any higher. It’s legitimately a tough topic to keep straight and knowing your basics is as impressive as you need to get.

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**The term “Uncle Sam” didn’t come along for a few more years, but you know exactly who I mean. Don’t be difficult.

The Importance Of Being Delusional

May 17, 2021June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

You may remember the old Roadrunner cartoons where Wile E. Coyote, distracted by his mad pursuit of his prey, runs right off the edge of a cliff before pausing in mid-air. Oddly, he’s fine as long as he doesn’t look down and notice the reality of his situation. If he’d just kept running, he might have made it to the other side of the gap (where his nemesis had already paused to “Beep! Beep!” at him before speeding away).

Eventually, however, he does look down. He takes a moment to emote defeat or despair, sometimes even waving to us or holding up a cute little sign offering concise commentary on his plight. Then… he plummets to the ground far below, reappearing after the commercial to begin his next futile effort to catch that $#%&* bird.

Imagine, however, if Wile simply accepted the reality of his situation before running off the cliff. What if he looked at his track record, and that of the Road Runner, and realized that statistically he was probably never going to catch the thing and that his time would be better spent doing something else. Would that be… victory? Would that mean he’s growing, learning, and adjusting to circumstances? Or would such a shift in thinking mean he’d lost something valuable in the pursuit?

We mock him, but who do we relate to more in those cartoons – the antagonistic bird or the eternally determined coyote?

Education certainly isn’t the only field in which we sometimes have to keep running and ignore the fact that we long ago left the cliff. Many professions contain some element of blind faith and a daily decision to embrace the long-term possibilities, whatever today may hold. There are times we catch glimpses of the harvest – students who evolve so dramatically over time, notes received from those impacted in the past, or conversations in which light bulbs pop up over the most unexpected heads. Sometimes we catch the Roadrunner, if only for a moment. Make note of those moments – file them away in tangible form so you can prove to yourself they happened when you need to.

Seriously, you’d be surprised.

Altar-ing Course

If you’re a Sunday-Go-To-Meetin’ person, you may recall that in the Old Testament, it was common after the Lord God did something noteworthy for those impacted to build an alter commemorating the moment. It probably seemed a bit odd to some. Were they really worried they’d “forget” that time Jehovah destroyed thousands of their enemies with fire, disease, or sporks? Was there genuine danger after El-Shaddai wrestled with you all night, changed your name, and altered the course of your descendants for a thousand generations that it might slip your mind down the road unless you left a pile of rocks nearby?

Yes. Yes, there was. That’s why it was useful to build a display commemorating the moment and maybe even write down what happened. That’s why so many major events began with leaders recounting everything important that had happened up until that point before announcing plans going forward. We are a shallow, short-term people – and not just spiritually. Circumstances change. It may not seem like it while you’re on the mountain, but you’ll at some point likely hit a valley or two. (Things seem even less changeable when you’re in the valleys, but chances are good you’ll eventually glimpse sunlight again.) And guess what makes all of this easier to remember?

Obviously it doesn’t have to be a literal altar. A folder or storage bin under the bed will do just as well. The point is, sometimes you have to look back and remember when things were better in order to help you believe they won’t always be like they feel now.

The rest you have to fill in with a little healthy self-delusion.

The Challenges Of Selective Reality

We’ve seen some pretty extreme reminders in the past year of what happens when people aggressively deny fundamental reality and replace it with their own fan-favorite nonsense. Educators can’t ethically afford to completely ignore the signs that something’s not working. I’m positive any teacher reading this could easily list a half-dozen things they’d change if they had the power which would dramatically improve both students’ experiences and overall academic performance. It’s harder to be truly reflective and think critically about what you could be doing differently, however – especially if you’re in a situation where you feel so little support to begin with.

It’s an irony I suspect occurs in other professions as well. When you’re supported, listened to, and valued, it’s easier to question what you’re doing and challenge yourself to get better. When you’re constantly belittled and discouraged, there’s little room for that sort of risk. You hunker down and do your best to just “get through.” Check the boxes. Do the minimum. No one cares anyway. It’s not like the students are going to notice or get all worked up that you’re not “challenging them” enough. Just do the paperwork. Log in to the training, turn off your camera, and watch Netflix on your phone. Keep grades current, update Canvas regularly, and beyond that, to hell with it.

That’s when you most need some positive self-delusion. That’s when you should absolutely sacrifice a little reality for some belief. Stop looking down. I don’t care how far it is. Look forward and focus on the raspberry that bird is blowing at you as we speak. Then run.

Choosing Your Delusions

Yes, we have to keep slapping ourselves a bit to make sure we’re not becoming “that” teacher. We have to find ways to think critically and professionally about what is and isn’t working. We have to distinguish their hoops from our hopes (I can’t believe I just said that). If you’re not getting better, you’re usually getting bitter (dear golly, that’s two in a row).

That said, I respectfully suggest our self-evaluation should be focused on reaching the cliff on the other side of the gap – NOT on looking down to think too much about where we are right this moment. I hesitate to come right out and say it, but I think sometimes surviving in the world of education requires a sort of selective self-delusion. We gotta try to be honest with ourselves about ourselves, but I’m not sure I want to look too closely at the realities around me. I’m not sure I want to know what the chances are that anything I’m doing will make a noticeable difference for most of the kids in front of me. I’m not sure I want to think too much about the relative impact I’m likely to have compared to peer groups, cultural pressures, social media, poverty, and race. I’m positive I don’t want to get bogged down in my shortcomings and failures over this bizarro pandemic teaching clusterfunk – all the things I’d try differently if we could go back and try again.

Not that I’d ever willingly go back and do this again.

How can we tell the difference between our “delusions” and those of right-wing ideologues, demagogues, conspiracy theorists and propaganda machines? I think it comes down to something cheesy. Something I’m almost embarrassed to type, but can’t express any other way.

I choose the kinds of delusions that make me more hopeful. I choose the delusions that give me more faith in my kids than they’re sometimes justify in the short-term with their choices. I choose the delusion that the opposing cliff is closer than it seems and that it’s more possible than it looks to make a positive difference in the lives of those in my care. These delusions may not have the natural traction of “those who oppose me draw their power from the plasma of sex-trafficked children and Pizza Hut is their mosque” or “Jesus wants me to stand up for my rights and stop being forced to consider the health and welfare of other people,” but I’d argue the tone is noticeably different.

I distinguish between delusions based on the attitude and goal driving them. That may not make one type truer than the other, but it certainly makes some more palatable than others – and that’s what I’m choosing to go with.

Strap On Your ACME Helmet

If there are things you could do better next year, by all means – dig in and fix them. If there are lessons you’ve learned from this past year (or four), then get serious about learning them and make the necessary adjustments so you don’t have to learn them again.

But don’t look too closely at the short-term results or the apparent reality of your situation – not if you want to keep going until you reach the other side (at least temporarily). Don’t count the number of times the Road Runner has escaped or discount your latest rocket-shoes, catapult, or magic hole-on-a-wall before you’ve tried them with full conviction. You’re probably not going to accomplish all you hoped when you took on this gig. You’re probably not going to have movies made about you or books written about your impact. I wouldn’t even bet on a “Mr. Holland’s Opus” moment now or in the future.

That doesn’t mean you’re not doing a good job. It doesn’t prove your worst fears and adds zero credibility to the accusations of your detractors. All it means is that sometimes you can’t see it and probably shouldn’t think too hard about it. Not this time. Maybe eventually, but not right now. For now, having the right sort of delusions is enough.

Can You Teach Us?

May 14, 2021June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

Public education has been overlooking – or worse, neglecting – a golden opportunity to improve. It’s not only been right in front of us all along, it’s been kicking us and taking our lunch money! And yet, somehow, where we should have recognized an opportunity, all we’ve seen is a competitor. In some cases, maybe even a threat.

It’s like we don’t actually WANT to teach gooder. I assume this is largely due to the various teachers’ unions and Hillary Clinton’s personal email server.

We’ve been told for several decades now that “school choice,” vouchers, educational “savings” accounts, etc., are essential for students to have access to a truly quality education, and that a little healthy competition will make us all better. I, for one, have been guilty of pushing back against this rhetoric. I’ve even been so cynical as to suggest ulterior motives by many of those involved (for which I assure you I now have all sorts of lingering guilt). But as Indiana dramatically expands their various “choice” initiatives and other red states do the same, I believe it’s time to change our approach.

It’s time to seek the guidance of the masters. It’s time to admit our own shortcomings and failures and learn from those who’ve accomplished so much. It’s not selling out, kids – it’s buying in. Besides, there’s nothing for me here now. I want to learn the ways of the Choice and become highly qualified like you. There’s still good in me. Surely you can sense it.

Teach us.

Learning The Ways Of The Choice

The primary argument for “school choice” is that the quality of the education is just plain better. The teachers are better. The administration is better. The system is organized more efficiently. The curriculum is more coherent and whole. The atmosphere simply reeks of excellence.

It’s easy to lose sight of this because those of us on the pro-“destroying the future” side of things have been too long distracted by this crazy idea that private schools achieve their goals primarily by picking and choosing which students they want on their rosters and turning away the rest. We’ve quibbled over many institutions’ focus on religious dogma, questionable science, distorted or overly selective history, and a tendency to blame everything from poverty to skin tone on some combination of personal failure and the sins of Cain. We’ve let ourselves become overly focused on the relative lack of improvement demonstrated year after year in “educational outputs” instead of zeroing in on the handful of truly impressive outliers here and there who get cited in all the brochures.

In short, we’ve been too cynical. Let’s try assuming the best about our cohorts in the world of private religious schooling, shall we?

I’m Here To Rescue You

If it’s about better teaching, then please – come train us. Show us your ways. It has to be better than most of the “professional development” to which we’re usually subjected. I’ll even pay attention and do the activities – I promise!

If it’s about better school administration, then come run a building or two for us. The pay has to be better, and if there’s such a thing as “doing the Lord’s work,” then surely this qualifies. Come show us how to reduce waste and establish that culture of excellence or whatever. We even promise not to pull the “union won’t let you” card out for the first year or two.

If it’s about better policies, then that’s easy. Just email us a PDF and we’ll gladly give it a go. Anything conflicting with state requirements should be simple enough to fix. If all of these legislators are as committed to educational excellence as they keep insisting (particularly when it involves more “freedom” and greater “choice”), surely they’d be willing to waive a statute or two. Or 3,497.

If it’s about curriculum, we’ll gladly pay for a copy. We’re apparently flush with wasted cash here in the world of public education. It would no doubt be an improvement, I assure you. Our administration buys some weird stuff already and your standards can’t be any worse than “Teach Like A Mongol Barbarian” or “Writing Through Excellence In Compassionate Modal Communication Across The Curriculum For Everyone!”

If it’s about facilities, well… I guess that depends on what we’re missing. Apparently we waste all kinds of resources on overstaffing and glossy copy paper and what not – maybe cutting back a little on the bad stuff would free up some funds. If not, there’s always another fundraiser pushing overpriced M&Ms on kids. Or Kickstarter.

In short, we’re ready. Come show us how to teach our students as effectively as you teach yours. Come show us how to be more committed, less wasteful, and become overall better people both personally and professionally. You win. We’re mediocre and whiney. You’re talented and full of passion. Help us, Obi-Wan Kenobi – you’re our only hope.

The Terminally Exhausted Part

There is one tiny little downside to this plan: it will never happen. And even if it did, it would never work.

Maybe that’s two tiny little downsides.

The problem isn’t that private school teachers aren’t any good at what they do. Many of them are amazing. The problem is that so are many public school educators. Despite rhetoric to the contrary, that’s not really the issue. Nor is it about curriculum or facilities or administration.

When private schools have superior outcomes, you’ll generally find they started with very different students than the public school they’re supposed to be “inspiring” down the road. That’s not even necessarily a bad thing. The best and brightest need good teachers just like everyone else. They’re not always easier to teach or intrinsically motivated to learn. As any teacher of advanced students (public or private) can assure you, “top” kids are just as much work as “bottom” kids – just in different ways.

But let’s stop pretending it’s an accomplishment to inherit upper middle class white kids from two-parent families whose lives have been full of travel and books and engaging conversation and art and expectations and consistency. Let’s stop pretending that’s somehow not one of the biggest draws of private schooling – the chance to have your elite little darling surrounded by and shaped by other folks’ elite darlings. We see it in AP or IB classes in public schools. We see it in neighborhoods in different parts of town. We see it in the churches we choose to attend and the stores in which we choose to shop. We can debate whether it’s ethically “right” or “wrong,” but only if we start by being honest about this very human tendency we’re indulging.

Let’s stop pretending that “choice” is about improving “educational outcomes” for everyone. Sure, that fits a certain school of capitalistic thought – but after decades of spouting the admittedly catchy rhetoric that goes along with it, it turns out it simply doesn’t work in any sort of predictable or consistent way. The vast majority of the time, “school choice” is about getting US away from THEM, whether the distinction is racial, economic, or religious. (That’s also why it’s usually the schools that have their choice of students; not students who have a true choice of schools.) Personally, I think it undercuts one of the primary functions of public education if we allow large segments of the community to pull their children into little enclaves and teach them stuff that runs against the goals and success of the larger society. But we can’t even have that argument unless we start being honest with each other (and ourselves) about what we want and why we make the choices we do.

The X-Files Problem

One of the most frustrating premises of the classic “X-Files” series was that not only was the truth “out there,” but there were numerous individuals fully aware of it who simply wouldn’t tell the rest of us. Scully and Muldar were working not only against aliens, freaks, and the elusive nature of reality – they were being taunted by their own government who could have saved all sorts of time and money if they’d simply sent them a few PDF summaries of how things really worked.

It’s foolish to pretend that the secret to education is out there – the unified learning theory that reaches all students in all situations and imparts all the knowledge and skills we’d like if only we were willing to push the “GO” button. There are good ideas and bad, stuff that works in many situations with many different types of kids and stuff that’s pretty stupid no matter where it’s tried. There are teachers working wonders in impossible situations and entire districts coasting along mired in mediocrity and bureaucracy. And yes, there are private schools doing a much better job with challenging populations than their public counterpart down the street.

There are legit arguments to be had about “school choice” when it comes to private schools willing to teach a largely secular curriculum to students very much like those attending the local public schools and take responsibility for both the results and how they treat their students in order to make it happen. We pretend we’re having them all the time.

Usually we’re not.

If “school choice” is of genuine benefit to all students, it should be easy to both document and replicate – neither of which seems to be happening much. If it’s not, the conversation should be about whether or not there are other good reasons to keep doing it. We can’t have that discussion, however, until all parties are willing to get a little more honest with themselves about what they’re actually doing and why they’re doing it.

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