Take today for instance.
In class this afternoon we got into a fifteen minute long debate about who was responsible for the firing of the first shot of the civil war, North or South. The most conventional answer tends to say South. After all it was a South Carolina man (in defense of a state that had, four months earlier, dissolved her bonds of union and seceded from the United States of America), Edmund Ruffin (possibly, but not definitively) who fired that first shell at the men huddled in the cold darkness of Fort Sumter in 1861. But, when one considers the fact that Lincoln notified the South Carolina legislature that he was sending a ship laden with fresh supplies for the men who were running out of food, water, and even fuel for their lamps, that he notified them openly, knowing full well how they would receive the news, perhaps the answer is not so conventional...or obvious.
So the debate rang out on the floor of my classroom, with the majority of the class fingering Ruffin and the South Carolinians for firing the first shot and a small yet vocal number fingering Lincoln for intentionally committing an act he knew would touch off the war (yes I know...these are supposedly "only" fifth graders...but they are sharp as the proverbial tack). One student, speaking to an experience the rest of the class could relate to, actually made the comparison to a playground fight. He said that if he instigated a fight when one could be avoided, if he goaded a kid to hit him by making fun of him and doing things to hurt him, he would still get in just as much trouble as the kid who swung first. Stop and consider that logic for a second... it's pretty sound. The debate was awesome to behold, and I was loathe to cut it short, but with only so much time being given a day to the actual teaching of history (no big cry for history standards in the news so it gets pretty neglected...race to the top indeed...), I have to keep my eye on the clock.
Tomorrow things are going to get even better. I will be introducing them to a letter written by a man named Sullivan Ballou to his wife Sarah. Ballou was thirty-two years old when he lost his life at the Battle of First Bull Run on July 21, 1861. In his collected personal effects was found a letter he had penned to his twenty-four year old wife a week before the battle. Though the letter was never sent, it was hand delivered to her at a later date. It is one of the most touching and moving letters you will ever read. I use it to show the kids that the people we are studying in class are not simply cold, two dimensional, grainy photographs. They are real people who lived through a very trying time in our nation's history. They were fallible and imperfect, filled with the prejudices of their times, but they were people none the less. They had their own hopes, dreams, and loves. This letter serves as a fitting tribute to that idea. I hope you enjoy and learn form it as much as they will tomorrow. As always, comments are welcome!
July 14, 1861
My very dear Sarah:
I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans on the triumph of the Government and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and sufferings of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more . . .
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them for so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown up to honorable manhood, around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness . . .
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights . . . always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow up as I have grown and never know a father's love and care, little Willie is too young to remember me long and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood.
Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them.
O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Sullivan
Sullivan Ballou
I am not to up on civil war history but that is a useful discussion to remember.
ReplyDeleteThe kid who compared the instance to 2 school yard kids will one day see that adults can and do sometimes act like children, just over adult issues and situations.
We were all kids at one time, and we should never forget that.
Im pretty sure that letter is read in full in the Ken Burns civil war series. Might be a great way to share it with your class.
ReplyDelete@DadU...it is and I do...LOL!
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Inspiring post. Your students are lucky to have you as a teacher. Wish all my teachers had been like you. Wish I could be in your class now.
ReplyDeleteThanks Wolf, very kind of you to say!
ReplyDeleteI once wanted to be a history teacher because of a teacher like you. You are making history come alive, making it about people, rather than memorizing dates that have no emotional connection. If a student can't connect to history, he/she will learn from it. I believe that your students are learning from it. Good for them. Good for you.
ReplyDeleteIt should have been "never" learn from it. Editing . . . editing.
ReplyDeleteThat's the theory SM. Kind of you to say so...editing or not...LOL.
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Wow. That letter is beautiful. Interesting, that he assumes she will never remarry...
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like your students are lucky to have you :)
Where were you when I went to school? I had few good teachers that could make me love their subject. In college, though, I did have a History professor who was nearly blind and taught everything by memory. It fascinated me that he could love HIstory that much and made me listen and respect him and his subject.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing that letter, it brought tears to my eyes.
A different era, Mrs.4444. As it turns out she never did remarry, dying a widow in her eighties. If my kids were a but older I would have asked them what they thought of that.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the kind words, both 4444 and Emily,
A great post. I love to study history especially to see how it shapes our lives today. Keep up the terrific work.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely love history. As a mother of seven, thank you for teaching our children.
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