By Sandra Bost
I have never been much of a history student. I made it through the high school quadfecta of social studies classes in the 80s because I was good at memorizing facts, and knew how to research and write reports (without Google or AI, I might add). But, I wasn’t interested enough to apply myself to really learn much of what I was reporting on.
My favorite history class in high school was World History because I had Coach M. Every sophomore looked forward to his class, since we knew that it only took one comment to derail the whole Ming dynasty in favor of a colorful rendition of a story from his glory days on the football field. Sorry, Admiral Zheng.
I can picture him now: feet kicked up on his desk, keys in hand, mining for ear wax like it’s gold. His booming voice captivating us all, even as we dodged the flying wax balls being flicked across the room. I do remember one lesson on the rise of Islam where I raised my hand to incorrectly name the city to which Muslims made a yearly pilgrimage. I think I said, “Medina.” I will never forget Coach pointing his waxy key at me as he boomed, “It’s Mecca, Baby, Mecca, Mecca, Mecca.”
In college I took World History at Southern Union to protect my bleeding, Auburn GPA, and avoid the large classes that wreaked havoc on a student with ADHD. Sadly, I can’t recall my professor’s name, even though she was the one who lit the spark for my love of world history. Okay, love may be a little too strong. Let’s say, “strong interest.” Anyway, she spun tales of kings and queens that I’d never heard of, much like Coach M reminiscing about his glory days. I remember the class being completely hooked, leaning in to catch every juicy detail about the movers and shakers of our pre-modern world, never having to dodge a single wax ball.
After college, with a healthy curiosity of world events, my husband and I had the opportunity to live abroad in the Middle East. Suddenly, standing on the red-sanded, ancient ruins of Jerash, Jordan and the like, I found myself regretting that I had not paid more attention in school. But, with these fresh eyes and tangible lessons, I began to pay more attention to history, politics, and current events.
Today, I see how the birth of America can not be celebrated without some understanding of past world governments. I get how studying such things provides valuable lessons from past mistakes and helps build empathy as we learn about the diverse experiences and struggles of people around the world across generations.
One of my husband’s favorite pastimes is watching YouTube videos of various journalists interviewing unsuspecting students on college campuses, probing their knowledge of basic American history. Admittedly, being put on the spot can make it difficult to come up with the correct answer, but some of the answers given are so far off-base that it leads to only a couple of conclusions: 1- Coach M teaches all of their history classes; 2- Students still struggle to see how historical events relate to their own lives. The truth is, it’s probably a combination of factors, really. Nevertheless, my hope for students today is that they will have their “spark moment” sooner rather than later, so they can absorb all the knowledge being imparted to them and use it to make informed decisions for their personal lives, and as citizens of this great nation, benefiting us all.
One thing I have learned in my years of experience as an American living and traveling abroad is that though America is not a perfect nation, it is one of the most dynamic countries in the world. People from all walks of life around the world have sought and found refuge within her borders. Not only refuge, but a life of purpose and prosperity. Those who have chosen to open their minds and hearts to the imperfect story of America the Beautiful have discovered a land of endless possibilities and boundless hope. It is my fervent wish for us all as Americans, to embrace this spirit of curiosity and openness, allowing us to contribute to the ongoing narrative of this remarkable nation.
With that in mind, on the brink of America’s 250th birthday, as John Adams wrote to Abigail on July 3, 1776, may we celebrate this great anniversary Festival “as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty,” and with “Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.”
Happy Birthday, USA! May God continue to bless you!
