What Should Schools Teach, and Who Decides?

Every generation revisits the same questions about public education.

How should students learn about the nation's founding? How should schools discuss slavery, civil rights, religion, immigration, and civic responsibility? How do educators teach difficult chapters of history honestly while also helping students understand the ideals that have shaped the United States?

These are not new debates, and they are unlikely to disappear. What has changed is where these decisions are increasingly being made.

Last week, the Texas State Board of Education approved a list of required reading materials that include Biblical stories and references for use in K-12 ELA classrooms. This is in addition to a law that mandates the display of the Ten Commandments in every classroom. Similarly, Florida has continued placing greater emphasis on the nation's Judeo-Christian influences within its academic standards and instructional guidance. These developments have prompted strong reactions from supporters and critics alike.

Whatever one's position on these policies, they point to a broader trend: states are increasingly using mandates to shape instruction on subjects that have been debated throughout American history. Those mandates squelch local governments, silence school communities, and chill classroom discussion.

The question is no longer simply what schools should teach. It is increasingly who should decide.

The Debate Is Bigger Than the Bible

Today's debate centers on the Bible. Yesterday it centered on race, civics, or American history. Tomorrow it will likely be something else.

Public education has always required schools to teach subjects that reasonable people interpret differently. Our schools serve diverse communities with different experiences, beliefs, and priorities. History, literature, government, economics, and civics all involve competing ideas, changing scholarship, and ongoing public debate.

The real challenge is not eliminating disagreement but deciding how those disagreements should be reflected in public education.

History Has Never Been One Story

One of the most interesting observations in The Atlantic's recent article, How America Gave Up on Its Own History, is that Americans have never fully agreed on how to tell the nation's story. What has changed is not the existence of disagreement, but our ability to find common ground despite it.

Historian Johann Neem describes three broad approaches that have emerged in recent decades. One emphasizes America's failures and argues that the nation's history is fundamentally defined by oppression. Another emphasizes America's founding ideals and tends to minimize many of its darker chapters. Between those two perspectives lies what Neem calls the "mainstream" approach: the belief that the United States is a work in progress. It recognizes both extraordinary achievements and profound failures while viewing American history as an ongoing effort to better live up to its own principles.

That middle ground is probably where many Americans already find themselves. Most people can acknowledge that the Declaration of Independence articulated revolutionary ideals while also recognizing that those ideals were not fully extended to everyone. They can recognize remarkable progress while honestly examining the injustices that made that progress necessary. Patriotism and honest reflection are not opposites. A country can take pride in its aspirations while continuing to learn from its mistakes.

Perhaps that is exactly the version of history schools should strive to teach– preparing students to wrestle with that complexity rather than presenting any single interpretation as settled beyond debate..

We Cannot Neglect History Itself

One of the most surprising observations from The Atlantic article has little to do with ideology.

Following the passage of No Child Left Behind, schools were held accountable primarily through standardized testing in reading and mathematics. Because history and social studies were largely excluded from those accountability measures, instructional time devoted to social studies declined dramatically in elementary schools. Many high schools increasingly assigned coaching staff to history classrooms, and student proficiency in history remained stagnant despite decades of reform.

That happened not because Americans stopped caring about history, but because educational systems naturally prioritize what they measure.

As we debate how history should be taught, we should also ensure that it is taught well. Students deserve opportunities to analyze primary sources, examine multiple perspectives, and develop the critical thinking skills necessary to understand both the nation's successes and its failures.

Why Local Control Still Matters

The recent debates in Texas and Florida also raise a larger governance question.

Who should decide what students learn?

For much of American history, curriculum decisions have involved a partnership between state standards and local school districts. States establish broad learning expectations while local boards and educators determine how those standards are implemented within their own communities.

In recent years, however, that balance has shifted. 

Whether the issue is instructional materials, library books, curriculum standards, or supplemental resources, decisions that once occurred primarily within local school districts are increasingly being made in Austin, Tallahassee, or other state capitals. Those decisions often reflect the priorities of elected or appointed officials far removed from individual communities. 

Some families welcome greater consistency across districts. Others worry that statewide mandates inevitably favor one perspective over others on issues that have long been the subject of legitimate historical, civic, and philosophical debate.

Regardless of where someone falls on that debate, one reality remains: communities are different. Rural, suburban, and urban districts often serve students with different experiences, needs, and priorities. Local school boards exist because education has traditionally recognized those differences instead of assuming one approach fits every community.

As curriculum decisions move farther from local classrooms, communities naturally have fewer opportunities to shape how complex subjects are taught.

We've Seen This Pattern Before

This conversation extends beyond education.

Former Florida State Senator Jeff Brandes recently raised concerns about Florida's proposed Amendment 3, arguing that significantly expanding the homestead exemption could make local governments increasingly dependent on Tallahassee for funding. His concern was not simply about taxes. It was about governance. If local governments become more financially dependent on the state, local officials may have less ability to respond to the specific needs and priorities of the communities they represent.

Threats of withheld funding due to noncompliance with unpopular federal or state mandates become increasingly common when local governments cannot sustain their programs on local tax dollars alone. "Our hands are tied" becomes a frequent justification, leaving voters with little ability to challenge those decisions.

Whether discussing curriculum or local government decisions to fund a particular public library program, the underlying question is remarkably similar.

How much authority should remain close to the people most directly affected?

Communities generally function best when residents have meaningful opportunities to shape decisions that affect their daily lives. Schools are no exception.

Communities Deserve a Voice

Public education has never required communities to agree on every interpretation of history. It has required communities to work together despite disagreement.

That is why curriculum decisions should remain as transparent, collaborative, and locally responsive as possible. As states assume greater control over disputed subjects, communities naturally have fewer opportunities to shape how those subjects are taught.

History will always be contested. Civic values will always be debated. That is not a weakness of a free society; it is one of its defining characteristics.

The goal of public education should not be to resolve those debates through statewide mandates favoring one viewpoint or another. It should be to help students understand the evidence, consider competing perspectives, and think critically enough to reach informed conclusions of their own.

Public trust grows not from unanimity, but from confidence that important decisions are made openly, fairly, and as close as possible to the communities they affect.