Students Without a Country?

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James Madison once remarked that “A well-instructed people alone can be permanently a free people.” As America celebrates the 250th anniversary of its Declaration of Independence, how fares the state of civic education today? Unfortunately, not great.

In recent decades, there has been a noticeable decline in effectively teaching civic literacy and history at the K-12 and collegiate levels as part of the challenge. Many of America’s students are intellectually adrift—at sea and far from America’s shores, rarely hearing her virtues or the noble stories of her past. Numerous studies and surveys reflect this gloomy reality. We are, one fears, cultivating students without a country.

In a provocative 1863 short story, author Edward Everett Hale recounts the fictional story of a man who ultimately becomes, as the title suggests, “The Man without a Country.” At least, eventually, without a country. The protagonist, Phillip Nolan, begins as a member of the U.S. Army but later becomes involved in treasonous activity. Nolan, found guilty, proclaims to a judge: “Damn the United States! I wish I may never hear of the United States again!” Many hearing Nolan’s response were Revolutionary War heroes, standing stunned. Nolan was sentenced as a prisoner to life at sea, where he was—under military supervision—to never hear the name of the United States again.

For the next 50 years, Nolan drifts aimlessly without any connection to hearth or home. Throughout his imprisonment, he realizes that his palpable ambition will never result in enduring honor apart from his country. He will live and die—in the final words of a poem he reads at sea—“Unwept, unhonour’d, and unsung.”

Yet a funny thing happens during Nolan’s sentence. Through a series of events, he came to appreciate—even to love—his country. One might even say that the captive Nolan received a kind of education in patriotism. Perhaps most notable was when he, as the only person on his ship who could speak Portuguese, became the sole American representative to speak with, and subsequently grant freedom to, a ship full of African slaves. Though “choked up,” he conveys this message and tells of his great respect for the American flag and all it represents.

At the story’s conclusion, old Nolan, on his deathbed, lies begging for information about the history of his country since he was set to sea. A picture of George Washington hangs above him, old maps of the country surround him, and prayer books for America and the president sit open before him. He had come to see the goodness of his country even as it had served justice to him. After his death, his epitaph read, “He loved his country as no other man has loved her; but no man deserved less at her hands.”

Like the captive Philip Nolan, many American students today lack meaningful engagement with their own principles and history, leading to ignorance or even animosity towards their country. What is the antidote? Likely many exist, but one of particular concern is education, especially patriotic education. Even more specifically, the cultivation of what Ronald Reagan called an “informed patriotism.” In his words, it is grounded in “thoughtfulness and knowledge” and espouses the greatness of America based on “our experience, our wisdom, and our belief in the principles that have guided us for two centuries.”

Such an informed patriotism serves as a virtuous mean—akin to Aristotle’s virtues—in relation to one’s love of country. It sits between the excess of idolatry (where love for one’s country takes on God-like status) and the deficiency of debunking (where, in the name of patriotism, one critiques and tears down one’s home and past). On one hand, the excess can foster an extreme “my country above all else” mentality; on the other hand, the deficiency can give rise to destructive ideological movements aimed at destroying the Constitution.

In the American context, an informed patriot does not see our Republic as perfect, nor as unredeemable, but as noble—grounded in true principles—and worthy of reflection and choice. It is a patriotism that asserts a proper gratitude and loyalty to America derived from a clear understanding of her principles and history. At the same time, it is keenly aware of the pitfalls associated with patriotism’s excesses and deficiencies.

The teaching of America’s founding principles and history serves as the heart of such an informed patriotism. After all, we may be able to help wayward students find their way home to America, but why should they stay? Why is it good? Why is its constitutional and cultural climate worth preserving, even dying to defend? Here, one is reminded of the beautiful words found in Abraham Lincoln’s eulogy to Henry Clay: “He loved his country partly because it was his own country, but mostly because it was a free country.”

The greatest Americans have always known that it’s not enough just to love our country because it is our country (as important as that is); above all, we need to know why we love it. That process requires teaching and, therefore, teachers who can teach the great texts and pass down the principles, stories, songs, and noble history of America’s heritage.

Suffice it to say—at the risk of sounding hyperbolic—the very future of the American republic hinges on a resurgence of an informed patriotism. It must be nurtured and perpetuated. We may cease to have a country—all of us—lest we learn to love America properly and teach others to do so too.



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