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Beth engages her students with the Declaration by making it relevant to their lives

Posted on by icivics

I recently broke up with Culver’s.

Let me explain.

In my classroom, civic literacy isn’t about memorizing documents. It’s about learning how those ideas live, travel, and show up in students’ real lives.

As part of the Civic Star Challenge, we took a close look at the Declaration of Independence. As the students were annotating the document, I put on my ultimate break-up playlist. (It kicked off with Neal Sedaka’s “Breaking Up is Hard to Do,” of course!) Then I threw it to the students: using the Declaration as a format, how might they write their own break up letter to someone or, even better, something?

Each letter had to include some key elements, including: a preamble explaining the need for separation, a statement of basic rights, a list of grievances, quotes from the original, and a final declaration of independence.

I mused that I was giving Culver’s the boot: I’d attempted reconciliation by trying the fast food chain’s salads, but they were just no match for their butter burgers. For that reason, an ongoing relationship would be unsustainable. 

The students immediately ran with it. One student, a worrier, wrote a break-up letter to her stress. Another wrote to her annoying little sister, reasoning that it would be better for their relationship if she got her own room: “It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. As the Declaration of Independence states ‘as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends’”.

I thought a student’s letter to Homework was particularly inspired. They wrote, “You force me to wrap my head around your nonsensical phrases without clear explanation with the threat of dishonor and failure, a remnant of years passed harder to let go of than a bandaid of duct tape.” (See the full letter below.)

And like other important documents, the students got feedback on their drafts. In my class, we’re often sharing work with each other, getting input and ideas. As I overheard the murmur of conversation, I could tell that they’d connected deeply with the concept and the material. Plus, as they shared with each other, they were teaching and learning from each other. And that’s always been the most powerful thing for me. 

At the end of the class, a student showed me a letter addressed to the manager at her after school job. She explained “At the end of this year, just before I go off to college, this is going to be my letter of resignation.”

Dear Homework,

I’m not gonna start with a bunch of flattering language: we need to break up. Breaking up is hard to do, so I’m just going to rip off the bandaid. But, as it says in the Declaration of Independence, “a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation”. 

This relationship has felt one sided. I have a right to myself, my time, and my life. I would say “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”, but you were a fair execution of those rights. I should not have to depend on others for my own happiness, especially when the likes of something so selfish that they cannot even fathom the idea of another having problems. I made a list of issues we have that are too late to fix: 

  1. You keep making me find your x and solve your problems. I am happy to find the scale of your shapes and angle of your curves but I am tired of picking up the remains of your past that are meant to be yours to find. 
  2. You ask me to dig into the shallow shores of phrase instead of letting me dig deep into the endless wells of symbolism and metaphor, and even when you do you still make me try to find purpose in what has already found it.
  3. You try to make me correct the good and try to correct me on my word despite the fact it is mine and mine alone and is carefully crafted to near perfection. 
  4. You stole time I could have used in the pursuit of happiness and togetherness. You stole my hours with your desires and forced me into action and work in the bedroom when I wish I could have time to spend with my family and friends.
  5. You force me to wrap my head around your nonsensical phrases without clear explanation with the threat of dishonor and failure, a remnant of years passed harder to let go of than a bandaid of duct tape.
  6. You limit my ability to write beautiful rivers of meaning and mountains of conflict by constricting me with prompt and censorship unless it is to your own delight.
  7. We had beautiful and exhilarating times uncovering the mysteries of problems and finding patterns in the stars between meaning, and yet when I try to find problems of my own, you give me complex translations of your design filled with repetition that turns my mind to machine in a repeating pattern of simple and bland. 
  8. You make me do work of no importance purely to keep my smile from being shared. 

We have tried to mend our pain with the twine of love and sacrifice. We have tried to give ourselves the time and effort we deserve, but you have broken my heart too many times to count, and I am tired. I need rest and work of interest and purpose and you have gone back to your tricks of time again and again. So I am sorry about this choice, but I need to make it final. You have made me an also-ran far too many times to count.

We are done. I am now free of your bondage. I can now run free and find solace in the love and care of family and friendship. No longer shall we share a room of question and solution, but we shall now find our own paths. I would offer friendship, but you are the sun and friendship is wings of wax, and if I get too close I shall fall into despair. I will live on and dream of love and beauty, and I’ll forget you but I will never forget the smallest one who ever lived.

Sincerely,
A Student

About Beth

  • Teaching experience: 30 years teaching, including 26 years teaching middle school world history. 
  • Currently teaching: 9th-12th grade social studies

The 2008 Wisconsin State Teacher of Year, Beth earned her doctorate in Teacher Leadership in 2016. She is a member of the iCivics Educator Network and serves on the Wisconsin History Center Lead Teacher Council, providing input in advance of the new Wisconsin Historical Society’s museum (opening in 2027). She is passionate about project-based learning and enthusiastic about supporting her students as they design social studies projects and participate in her seminars.

We Can Teach Hard Things Like Immigration

Posted on by icivics

I began my career as a social studies teacher in September 2001. By my second week in the classroom, the attacks of September 11th had reshaped not only the nation, but also my understanding of what it meant to teach history. I became acutely aware of the students in my classroom whose families had emigrated from the Middle East. As fear and anger filled the news, I found myself asking, “How could I guide students through turbulent current events while ensuring every child felt safe, seen, and valued?”

Over time, I developed a guiding principle for navigating difficult topics, even before I had language for it: politically neutral and morally steadfast. I strive to create space for students to form their own opinions without signaling what they “should” think. At the same time, I remain anchored in the core values of human dignity, empathy, and respect. Neutrality does not mean indifference. It means encouraging inquiry while protecting the humanity of every student in the room.

Balancing content knowledge with historical thinking skills is central to this approach. I want students to be curious about the world they inhabit, not simply consumers of historical facts but investigators. We examine patterns and rhymes across time, ask sourcing questions, identify bias, and construct arguments grounded in evidence. My goal is to help them make sense of both the past and the present through disciplined critical thinking.

In New York State’s middle school curriculum, immigration spans seventh and eighth grade, so I teach it as a thematic unit. The unit is designed to build content knowledge, strengthen students’ use of primary and secondary sources, develop evidence-based argumentation, and cultivate civic discourse.

We begin with vocabulary development (I like Wayground) and an overview of major immigration waves to the United States, including push and pull factors across the past two centuries. Students then rotate through stations featuring personal narratives from immigrants representing a wide range of time periods and countries of origin. These stories humanize historical trends and broaden students’ perspectives.

Next, we explore the history of the Statue of Liberty and read Emma Lazarus’s poem, “The New Colossus.” Students analyze the poem using sourcing and comprehension questions, considering both its historical context and its enduring symbolism. I conclude the lesson by reading the illustrated children’s book, Emma’s Poem: The Voice of the Statue of Liberty, which helps students connect the historical narrative to the emotional power of Lazarus’s words.

When the class meets again, students engage in a silent gallery walk. Political cartoons, photographs, and brief quotations reflecting public attitudes toward immigrants—Irish, Italian, Chinese, Greek, Cambodian, Mexican, Syrian, and others—are posted around the room. Rather than drawing conclusions immediately, students write one question about each source. This emphasis on questioning nurtures curiosity before judgment. Afterward, they complete a graphic organizer to identify sourcing details and analyze evidence of bias.

The unit culminates in a central question: Should “The New Colossus” remain on the Statue of Liberty? If not, what, if anything, should replace it? Students prepare arguments for both sides using evidence from the documents.

We then conduct a structured discussion using a modified fishbowl format. Half the class begins in an inner circle while the other half participates through a digital discussion board. Students rely on sentence starters to frame their comments and must ground their ideas in the documents. Each student receives two tokens as “their two cents.” After speaking twice, they must wait until all others have contributed before speaking again. This structure promotes balanced participation and prevents a few students from dominating the conversation.

Students then switch roles, so every student has the opportunity to speak. We close with a written reflection: What was challenging? Did your thinking change? What do you wish others understood about immigration? When we meet again, we debrief the process itself, reinforcing that civil discourse is a skill that requires practice.

Some of the most meaningful moments of my career have unfolded during these conversations. One student, whose family emigrated from Iraq, spoke passionately about how coming to America had saved her family from violence. Others have shared experiences shaped by Bangladesh, Venezuela, and other native countries. These stories transform abstract policy debates into lived realities.

As someone born in the United States, I can strive for understanding and compassion, but I cannot fully know the immigrant experience. By anchoring our inquiry in the question of “The New Colossus,” I create space for students to listen to one another with curiosity and respect. In those moments, I am reminded that teaching hard history is not only about the past. It is also about cultivating the habits of mind and heart that sustain a democratic society.

Written by Betty Haynes

Betty Haynes has taught social studies for 25 years in the Cleveland Hill School District in Cheektowaga, New York, near Buffalo. She serves as middle school social studies coordinator, sits on the shared decision-making committee, advises Youth and Government, and directs the district musical.

Betty presents locally and statewide on New York’s Seal of Civic Readiness, promoting project-based civic learning. She is also an associate director of the Academy of Human Rights of Buffalo, which provides professional development for teachers and a summer symposium for Western New York students.

Her honors include New York State Middle School Social Studies Teacher of the Year (NYSCSS), Gilder Lehrman New York State History Teacher of the Year, finalist for New York State Teacher of the Year, and publication in the New York Archive Journal.

Through the We Can Teach Hard Things initiative, the perspectives of teachers across the country contribute to the public conversation about civic education in the United States. Each contributor represents their own opinion. We welcome this plurality of perspectives.

Victoria prepares her students with critical skills for life beyond the classroom

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Last September, I set a goal for myself: to find a game for every standard I teach. In other words, to gamify the entire school year.

While 6th graders can’t vote—and they often feel that participating in civic life is something only their parents can do—games put them in the driver’s seat. They help kids become personally invested in civic engagement through role play, practice, and active skill-building. Games can be experienced individually or in groups and integrated into homework checks. They’re a natural tool for virtual learning. Simply put: games are amazing!

The games I’ve discovered on iCivics have been go-tos in my class. They often come with supporting slides or PDFs which make the experience even more accessible; for example, students with slow internet speeds can turn to a worksheet. For my students struggling with reading or speaking English, I’m always impressed by how the games pull them in: it’s like a magic trick that captures their interest. After each game, I use prompts to encourage the students to reflect on what they’ve learned—and they write their hearts out every time.

Recently, as part of the Civic Star Challenge, my students played People’s Pie. The challenge: create and balance the budget for the entire country. From managing tax rates to setting the retirement age, the students had to weigh a variety of competing needs. I was so impressed as I watched them puzzle through really complex decisions. They were deeply invested. They grappled with the reality that some citizens were unhappy with the choices they made. Several students ran out of money and had to weigh the cost-benefit of taking on debt. Many kids came to the similar conclusion: if you want to do what’s best for the country, you’ll have to reckon with some difficult tradeoffs.

Oftentimes, the outcome of these games is not winning. And the students are OK with that. They understand that compromise is a vital part of a functioning democracy. In that way, the soft skill of accepting discomfort may be one of the most valuable byproducts of gameplay: it gets students ready to join the world and continue tackling challenges there.

About Victoria

  • Teaching experience: 6 years
  • Currently teaching: 6th grade Minnesota Studies, 7th grade social studies, 12th grade ALP (Alternative Learning Program)

Victoria is the 2025 Middle School Teacher of the Year honoree at her school, as well as at the Minnesota Council on Economic Education. She also serves as a Retro Report Ambassador. Victoria is passionate about blending virtual tools with economic education into social studies classes to encourage an inquiry mindset in adolescents. Read more about her work here.

Amanda builds literacy that strengthens her students’ civic decision-making

Posted on by icivics

My main drive as an educator is to teach literacy as a way of understanding the world. My focus is not just reading and writing, but building literacy in how students navigate the internet, politics, and the world around them. It’s about vetting sources, understanding if what you’re reading is biased, and extrapolating from it meaning that can apply elsewhere. 

The Civic Star Challenge speaks to those same goals. Literature always has a historical context, and it’s crucial for understanding the meaning of a text. Today, we’re bombarded with information every day. How do you decide what is relevant and actionable? This decision-making is at the heart of civic engagement.

Visual literacy is an element of the AP English test. And one of my favorite lessons in my AP seminar and research classes is around identifying patriotism and nationalism in visual media. We start by defining both terms in class. It’s often an unexpected challenge for the students: as one recently said, “I’ve never thought of those two things as being different.” And I thought, “Oh, you’re getting the lesson before I take you there! You’re doing it yourself!”

Then we turn to Merriam-Webster, where the differences are much more stark:

patriotism: love for or devotion to one’s country

nationalism: an ideology that elevates one nation or nationality above all others and that places primary emphasis on promotion of its culture and interests as opposed to those of other nations, nationalities, or supranational groups

Now the students are tasked with finding examples of both patriotism and nationalism in the media – and with finding  examples that demonstrate the differences between the two. We look at 50 images together and analyze them, from WWII political cartoons to t-shirts sold at Walmart. Sometimes the line is really clear. It can manifest as xenophobia or isolationism in a racist post. But other times, it’s subtler and harder to define – like using the flag for marketing products and services that have nothing to do with being a patriot. This iconography is powerful and effective because it’s so deeply connected to our love of country. But as one student said, “They’ll turn anything into a flag! Is this patriotism or is it just pandering?”

Right now, disagreeing with politicians can be seen as unpatriotic. I believe patriotism is about loving your country so much that you are willing to work to make it better, even when that work is unpopular. Most of my students are 18 years old, finally able to vote and make other decisions about how they want to live their lives. I want them to know that there are many ways to be a patriot. As I often tell them, “You can plant trees under which shade you will never sit. Planting the trees for the next people – that’s what it means to be a good person and a good American.”

About Sam

  • Teaching experience: 14 years
  • Currently teaching: American Government, State & Local Government, Introduction to Political Science (all dual enrollment); African American Studies.

A recipient of the 2018 James Madison Fellowship for Colorado, Sam utilizes her Master’s degree in Political Science, teaching primarily 11th and 12th grade students the significance of civics, civic engagement, and the importance of making connections in the community.

Sam helps her students connect the founding documents to their daily lives for the Civic Star Challenge

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A few years ago, one of my colleagues invited Mary Beth Tinker to speak at our school—she was the student plaintiff in the landmark case Tinker v. Des Moines. It was an incredible experience to hear her calmly describe what it was like to participate in the case, recounting each choice she made without really knowing how important her actions would become for the whole nation.

She spoke to the students about the First Amendment in a way that was undeniably personal. But she described her legacy like this:

“My message is that when you find issues that you care about and that you want to change, then it’s a great way of life to use your First Amendment rights to speak up about those issues and to take action. You’re not going to win all the time, but it’s still a good way of life.”

My goal as an educator is to help my social studies students make this same connection between the text of the Constitution and their daily lives, their communities, and the real world. The Civic Star Challenge helped me create that bridge.

For example, it’s one thing to read the amendments; it’s another to use them to defend the rights of others. When students play the iCivics video game Do I Have a Right?, they take on the role of lawyers. Clients show up to their office with complaints; then the lawyers have to decide whether that grievance is covered by the Constitution and, if so, by which amendment. And the clients demand answers quickly! I love listening in as students check in with each other, discussing their tactics and understandings of the text. (“Oh no, I thought it was in the Fifth Amendment, but it was the Sixth!”) The game encourages critical thinking, creates community, and leaves students with a much richer understanding of their own rights. Plus, it serves as an informal assessment, with data coming at me in real time.

My class is often the first time students dive into content that asks them to reflect on human nature, current events, and who they are becoming. I emphasize that those who founded the country did not come up with these ideals and ideas themselves. Many of the founders were not much older than the students, and—like good students—when they looked for inspiration for a new government, they drew on their favorite thinkers, including Locke, Montesquieu, and Rousseau. The proof is right in the Declaration of Independence.

Mary Beth Tinker stressed the importance of knowing your rights and speaking up for yourself, no matter what age you are. Guided by her example, I tell my students that we are not studying history or civics, but rather that we’re living it. We study the past to navigate our present and to better understand what it means to have rights—not just for ourselves, but for everyone.

About Sam

  • Teaching experience: 14 years
  • Currently teaching: American Government, State & Local Government, Introduction to Political Science (all dual enrollment); African American Studies.

A recipient of the 2018 James Madison Fellowship for Colorado, Sam utilizes her Master’s degree in Political Science, teaching primarily 11th and 12th grade students the significance of civics, civic engagement, and the importance of making connections in the community.

We Can Teach Hard Things Like Civil Rights

Posted on by Sophie Gordon

"The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice."

Theodore Parker

That’s not a typo you see in the attribution above. While the oft-cited quote is chiefly credited to Martin Luther King, Jr., who did indeed speak those brilliant words during more than one speech, it was originally coined by 19th-century Unitarian minister and radical abolitionist from Boston, Theodore Parker.

Sources matter, especially in a blog post that promotes primary sources to teach civil rights. But first, why are we talking about civil rights in a series dedicated to “teaching hard things” — a series predicated on teaching traditional civics topics that have become controversial in this moment or in response to current events?

I’ll admit: civil rights wasn’t on my radar when we first conceived the “We Can Teach Hard Things” series. I was thinking more about the rule of law, due process, separation of powers, immigration, citizenship, and other government-related topics that have dominated recent news cycles. I wasn’t thinking about slavery, the rise of Twentieth-Century fascism, or the civil rights movement. But when we asked teachers, these topics kept being mentioned. Thus, here we are. Let’s talk about teaching civil rights.

We often teach history as eras, movements, or moments in time, and civil rights is no different. The phrase immediately conjures images of 1950s-60s America, and if you locate it in the index of a high school textbook, the page number will surely bring you to a chapter covering these decades. In other words, folks could be forgiven for mistakenly assigning it to a finite period in our nation’s history.

We know better. We know civil rights represents a tapestry we’ve been weaving since the very beginning of our nation, and we are certainly not done. In this way, civil rights is aspirational. It is also, I believe, inspirational. Nowhere is this truer than in the primary sources comprising the Americana canon.

WE hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.

The way to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them.

Of all the great speeches, poems, letters, and more, the one that has always touched me the deepest is Frederick Douglass’ famous (and famously long-winded) What, to the slave, is the 4th of July?

In the opening sentence of his fourth of 71 (!!) paragraphs, he asks and answers his stinging question: “What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer: a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. . . .”

He continues his speech. Oh, boy, does he continue. It is scathing. It is raw. It is unflinchingly honest. Douglass pulls no punches.

I know what you’re thinking, “How is that inspirational or even aspirational?”

Stay with me. Stay with Douglass. His hope emerges in stark relief in his closing:

[. . . .] the Constitution is a GLORIOUS LIBERTY DOCUMENT. Read its preamble, consider its purposes. Is slavery among them . . . While I do not intend to argue this question on the present occasion, let me ask, if it be not somewhat singular that, if the Constitution were intended to be, by its framers and adopters, a slave-holding instrument, why neither slavery, slaveholding, nor slave can anywhere be found in it. . . . I hold that every American has a right to form an opinion of the constitution, and to propagate that opinion, and to use all honorable means to make his opinion the prevailing one. . . . 

Now, take the Constitution according to its plain reading, and I defy the presentation of a single proslavery clause in it. On the other hand it will be found to contain principles and purposes, entirely hostile to the existence of slavery…

Allow me to say, in conclusion, notwithstanding the dark picture I have this day presented of the state of the nation, I do not despair of this country. There are forces in operation, which must inevitably work the downfall of slavery. ‘The arm of the Lord is not shortened,’ and the doom of slavery is certain. I, therefore, leave off where I began, with hope. While drawing encouragement from the Declaration of Independence, the great principles it contains, and the genius of American institutions, my spirit is also cheered by the obvious tendencies of the age. . . .

When I think of Douglass’s speech in its entirety, I view it as the embodiment of what Alexis de Tocqueville referred to as “reflective patriotism.” In the Educating for American Democracy (EAD) report, reflective patriotism is described as “appreciation of the ideals of our political order, candid reckoning with the country’s failures to live up to those ideals, motivation to take responsibility for self-government, and deliberative skill to debate the challenges that face us in the present and future.”

Here are a few tips for making this speech, or any other source from the deep and wide library of American civil rights thought leadership:

  • As always, be sure to consult and follow your state standards, plan for a structured lesson with clear objectives tied to those standards, and communicate with stakeholders ahead of time if you have any reservations.
  • If you’re using Douglass’s speech or any other source from the 19th or 20th Century, you’re already following two pieces of guidance for teaching hard things: using primary sources as “grounding texts” and using historical examples instead of current ones. I would also suggest adopting an inquiry-based approach. A great focus for Douglass’s speech is the concept of distance. Perhaps you might ask, “How does Douglass use the concept of ‘distance’ to explain why he cannot join the Fourth of July celebrations?”
  • Don’t be afraid to “tamper with” the document — to alter it in ways that make it more accessible to students. Douglass’s speech is over 10,000 words long, and that’s only part of what makes it so daunting. I suggest following the advice of Sam Wineburg and Daisy Martin (2009)* and focusing, simplifying, and adjusting the presentation of the source. Shorten it. Cut or replace confusing words. Use a large font size, provide ample white space, and don’t be afraid to italicize critical points or provide a vocabulary legend. Sure, the purists may decry your “assault” on the original brilliance of the source, but between that and never showing it to students at all, I’m willing to face their criticism.

Something worth noting is that Douglass follows our guidance to focus on the office or institution rather than the person or party. He refers to lawmakers, the President, the Secretary of State, Congress, the Continental Congress — his is not an indictment of any person or politician so much as it is a nation struggling to live out one of its highest ideals: equality.

Our students deserve an education rich in this philosophy, and few topics in our discipline provide the seeds for this rich soil as much as civil rights. Yes, civil rights can be hard to teach, so lean into the primary sources that have paved the way toward our more perfect union. While many of their authors were surely not viewed as patriots in the 1850s or the 1950s, I challenge anyone today to tell me that Martin Luther King, Jr., Frederick Douglass, and Ida B. Wells were anything but.

iCivics has an entire unit dedicated to civil rights, but here are some of my favorite resources.

Admin Tip: It doesn’t take much to inspire and empower your weary history and civics teachers. A simple, “I’m really excited for our students to learn about civil rights from you,” would go further than you can imagine.

*Wineburg, S., and D. Martin. “Tampering with History: Adapting Primary Sources for Struggling Readers.” Social Education, September 2009. Accessed 12 February 2026 at www.socialstudies.org/social-education/73/5/tampering-history-adapting-primary-sources-struggling-readers

Laura uses pop culture to make the Declaration relevant to students for Civic Star Challenge

Posted on by Sophie Gordon

Sometimes teaching civics is as much about translation as it is about history.

As part of the Civic Star Challenge, I teamed up with my colleague, Laura McFarren. We wanted to come up with a way to help our students really plug into the Declaration of Independence. Our biggest challenge is making complex, old texts accessible to middle school students. We found that the best “way in” is to break it down for them—but first we have to grab their attention.

That’s where AI can be a help. We gave it grievances from the Declaration and asked it to paraphrase them in a style we knew would be familiar to the students. By catching their attention with pop culture icons and using language that is more familiar, students are able to better understand and, crucially, remember the original text.

Pop quiz! See if you can match the original grievance with the contemporary translation.

Note: We weren’t able to get the actual Taylor to give us an actual lyric, nor are the others direct quotes. But AI definitely channeled their voices!

  1. “For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world.”
  2. “For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury.”
  3.  “For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us.”
  4. “He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.”
  5. “For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent.”
  1. “They demanded our money without asking. Typical. Theft, disguised as law. Charming.” – Wednesday Addams
  2. “He wrecked our oceans, trashed the coasts, set our towns on fire, and straight-up ruined lives. Total villain behavior.” – a Gen Z-er
  3. “You took away our right to speak, to fight, to be heard — like justice was just another thing you burned.” – Taylor Swift
  4. “He blocked our hustle, cut the cords to the globe — no deals, no flows, just chains on the growth. This ain’t freedom, it’s control. And we see it.” – Kendrick Lamar
  5. “He basically let a bunch of angry army dudes crash at our place without asking… like, bro, this isn’t the Krusty Inn.” – SpongeBob SquarePants

The students really leaned in—this was vocabulary that made sense to them. When Kendrick Lamar is spinning rhymes about the Declaration, all middle school ears perk up!

We even challenged our students to abandon words altogether! For example, the students recently looked at primary sources for events leading up to the American Revolutionary War. Then they had to analyze how colonists might have reacted to each event and boil it down to emojis. (We saw lots of tea cups and thumbs down!)

No matter the language, it’s my goal for the ideas in these historic documents and scenarios to resonate with the students—and stick with them. With the help of Taylor, they do!

About Laura

  • Teaching experience: 11 years in education
  • Currently teaching: 8th grade social studies

Laura Bowersox believes collaboration with other educators is an integral part of education and loves to seek opportunities to learn from others. She strives to help her students become intelligent, informed, and involved citizens.

(Pop quiz answers: A4, B3, C5, D2, E1)

Play Brief the Chief this Presidents’ Day!

Posted on by Sophie Gordon

While we often associate Presidents’ Day with deals and discounts on electronics, furniture, and other goods, for most of American history, it was a day for commemorating the first president: George Washington. In fact, according to federal law, the holiday is still designated as “Washington’s Birthday,” even though it rarely falls on his actual birthday. After the Civil War, another February presidential holiday emerged: Abraham Lincoln’s Birthday. The holidays were eventually consolidated, and Presidents’ Day became more inclusive of all U.S. presidents.

While celebrations for Presidents’ Day vary from wreath layings and concerts to formal dinners and balls, one of the best ways to involve students in the occasion is by learning about the presidents, the challenges they faced, and the choices they made, and contextualizing the circumstances and consequences of those decisions. Good news—there’s a game for that!

In 2024, the White House Historical Association partnered with iCivics to launch Brief the Chief, a history learning game that teaches evidence-based reasoning, decision making, and critical thinking. As of the end of 2025, the game has had more than 500,000 plays, with peak play months in November and—you guessed it—February!

Our initial framing for Brief the Chief called for three administrations to be featured in the game. We wanted to select ones that were consequential, as well as historical moments that are generally taught across different state standards. We settled on three administrations from very different time periods in American history: Thomas Jefferson (1801–1809), Abraham Lincoln (1861–1865), and Lyndon Johnson (1963–1969). We also wanted to highlight both a well-known and lesser-known historical episode for each president (Jefferson: Port of New Orleans and Trade with Haiti; Lincoln: Fort Sumter and Emancipation Proclamation; Johnson: Voting Rights Act and Decision to Run for Re-Election).

The personalities and politics of Jefferson, Lincoln, and Johnson varied extensively, as did those of the people around them—there are nearly 30 historical characters dispersed throughout the game! A student can encounter figures such as Alexander Hamilton and James Madison, as well as lesser-known individuals like Elizabeth Keckley and Zephyr Wright. This was part of our concerted effort to balance diverse perspectives and give learners more historical context for the times in which these people lived.

Beyond the characters, we also gave significant thought to the settings for every scenario. Using the presidential offices made sense because each president used a different workspace (Jefferson in today’s State Dining Room; Lincoln in today’s Lincoln Bedroom; and Johnson in the Oval Office). As a result, students also get to visually experience different historic spaces of the White House and see how those spaces have evolved and changed over time to meet the demands of the presidency as an institution.

While more modern spaces, such as President Lyndon Johnson’s Oval Office and the Second Floor Kitchen, are well documented and photographed, this was not the case with the interiors of the Jefferson and Lincoln White Houses. In fact, there are no known drawings or images from Jefferson’s time (aside from floor plans), and the only known photographs of the Lincoln White House are of his office. To overcome the lack of visual documentation, two scenarios are set outside, as there is an abundance of drawings, paintings, renderings, and other visuals of the White House exterior dating back to its very beginning.

It is important to note that we ultimately decided that students would play the role of advisor rather than president because it allows them to be a witness to history, ask good questions, and make recommendations based on the evidence they gather. It also adds nuance to the idea of presidential decision-making, as leaders often rely heavily on people around them for information, expertise, and advice. One of the key takeaways we hope students will learn is that they have a role to play in shaping history, both in the game and in civic life.

So, we hope you will consider playing Brief the Chief with your students this Presidents’ Day (or anytime really!) We thank iCivics for their partnership in helping make this resource available to educators nationwide.

Written by Dr. Matthew Costello

Dr. Matthew Costello is the Chief Education Officer and Director of the David M. Rubenstein National Center for White House History, where he holds the Gerard B. Lambert Foundation Chair in White House History. In this role, he oversees the Association’s education programs, historical research, digital archives, public programming, and partnerships. Costello joined the Association in 2016 as the Senior Historian after completing his Ph.D. and M.A. in American history at Marquette University. He has published articles in academic journals and magazines, as well as two books. The first, The Property of the Nation: George Washington’s Tomb, Mount Vernon, and the Memory of the First President, was a finalist for the George Washington Book Prize. He also co-edited the volume Mourning the Presidents: Loss and Legacy in American Culture.

On the Educator Blog, multiple perspectives contribute to the public conversation about civic education in the United States. Each contributor represents their own opinion. We welcome this plurality of perspectives.

We Can Teach Hard Things, Like Executive Powers

Posted on by Sophie Gordon

The executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America.

—The Constitution of the United States. Art. II Sect. 1 cl. 1

Teaching executive power can be daunting in any political climate. Its scope is contested, oftentimes along political lines, and the Constitution offers minimal explicit guidance. Moreover, the powers of the President have evolved—mostly by expanding—throughout history, rendering the office almost unrecognizable from the office of the 1800s and even into the 20th century.

While the powers of Congress are explicitly stated (with the exception of clause 18), presidential powers are not. In outlining the legislative branch, the Founders drew on examples of citizen councils and representative bodies from throughout history, even drawing on their own experience with the Articles of Confederation. They benefited from real-life examples of various models as they sought to determine the best system for our young nation.

The same cannot be said for the executive branch. Instead, the Founders’ preferences were shaped by their experiences during Shays’ Rebellion and other early challenges facing the Continental Congress, such as collecting taxes, regulating commerce, and enforcing treaties. That said, they knew what they didn’t want: an executive with unlimited power and authority, akin to a monarch or dictator.

To learn about executive powers in my classroom, students conduct a side-by-side comparison of Articles I and II, allowing them to identify critical differences. The contrasting language, length, and breadth across the two articles provide insight into the Founders’ understanding and expectations of executive power, and students often arrive at some common conclusions.

We discuss how the office of the President is unique in that it is shaped by custom and tradition, the voice of the people, and checks from the other branches. Many of the limitations on presidential power arise after a president has attempted to extend their power beyond that of their predecessors. The example I use with my students comes from the ratification of the 22nd Amendment in 1951. We discuss the unofficial precedent set by George Washington, who served only two terms, until F.D.R. ran and won the office four times. What was once a custom became codified in the 22nd Amendment when the people decided a president should be limited to two terms.

We also discuss the changing scope of presidential power throughout history. I use F.D.R.’s Executive Order #9066, which was the removal and relocation of Japanese Americans to internment camps. I usually lead a discussion on the content of the order and its effects on the population. My next question to my students is, “If this action is constitutional, why hasn’t another president used this power?” Inevitably, my students conclude that the president would not likely be able to enact this power at this moment in time. I always follow up with “why?” They discuss the idea that this particular action would not be popular with the general population. After that, we discuss Richard Neustadt’s famous phrase, “presidential power is the power to persuade”. We also discuss the evolution of executive orders from simple directives to having “law-like” significance, such as the Emancipation Proclamation.

My students and I study presidential powers from a neutral observer perspective with the analytical lens of a political scientist. By adopting this observational stance, students can set aside their personal feelings regarding a person, a party, and specific issues. They then become a class of political scientists. As Hamilton states, “the people are the only legitimate fountain of power, and it is from them that the constitutional charter, under which the several branches of government hold their power” (Hamilton 1788, Federalist #49).

Resources to Use:

Written by Brittany Marrs

Brittany Marrs is a certified social studies educator with extensive experience teaching AP Government, AP Macroeconomics, Dual Credit Government, Dual Enrollment Microeconomics, and Economics at Magnolia High School in Texas. With a background in political science and law, she is passionate about empowering students to think critically, engage civically, and understand the institutions shaping their world.

Brittany is actively involved in numerous professional and community organizations and is currently pursuing National Board Certification in Social Studies. She is dedicated to developing meaningful assessments and creating inquiry-based classrooms. When she’s not teaching or writing, she is often collaborating with other educators to strengthen civic education and promote student voice. She has been a member of the iCivics Educator Network since 2021.

Through the We Can Teach Hard Things initiative, the perspectives of teachers across the country contribute to the public conversation about civic education in the United States. Each contributor represents their own opinion. We welcome this plurality of perspectives.

Paul’s students declare the Declaration for Civic Star Challenge

Posted on by Sophie Gordon

My approach to teaching has always been to prepare my students to be active, contributing members of their civil society. As I stated in my interview for my teaching position at Air Force Academy High School (AFAHS) years ago, the students of today are the Social Security payers of tomorrow—so I’d better make sure they’re taking care of me when I’m old!

In all seriousness, though, the majority of students at my school are Black or Brown, and many come into my classes not believing that they have a voice in our society. My mission is to change that. I work to make sure my students not only understand how they can participate in civil society, but why.

It’s not difficult for students to see how the civics lessons we cover in class impact them personally. They are watching tensions between our local and national governments play out on the news and in the streets. And they are drawing connections between their lived experience and the list of “injuries and usurpations” in the Declaration of Independence.

But it’s often challenging to get students comfortable with expressing their ideas and opinions in class. Students today are scared of being “wrong” or criticized for their beliefs. So, in my classroom, we spend a lot of time breaking that habit as I try to get students to understand that school is all about being wrong—that that’s generally how the learning process starts. I always tell students that we must debate the idea, not the person.

Recently, as part of the Civic Star Challenge, we did a deep dive into the Declaration. We started off by clarifying some key terms, such as “social contract,” “popular sovereignty,” and “natural rights.” I then asked students what Thomas Jefferson was trying to say in this “breakup letter” to King George III. What was his belief about the nature of government? As we talked, I watched the students put the pieces together in real time. One summed it up nicely:

“Governments exist to protect natural rights, like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Those governments are legit because the people agree to them. When the government stops protecting those rights, or starts hurting them, the people should change or end the government.”

As the other students nodded their heads and snapped their fingers, I couldn’t help but grin. I thought: I think we can really get something done in this class! Jefferson would be proud.

At the time it was issued, the Declaration would actually be “declared”—that is, it would be read aloud for everyone to hear. The language works better when you can emphasize and emote through speech. Every year, I ask my students to read the Declaration out loud, each taking a small part. My students are often a little nervous about doing that. My classes have a wide range of reading levels and English language comprehension. But recently, I was really gratified to see everyone giving it a shot. It was really something to hear such a diverse group literally “declare” the Declaration.

About Paul

  • Teaching Experience: 14 years in education; 8 years teaching
  • Currently teaching: social studies

Paul, a Chicago Public Schools teacher, endeavors to help students become thoughtful, empowered, and active members of civil society. When not doing that, he brings engaging stories to life as an accomplished comic book writer.