This essay recontextualizes the Yale Report of 1828, arguing that the report’s advocacy for classical liberal education should be understood alongside the racial concerns of its authors, some of whom were well-known colonizationists who viewed African American education as a threat to New Haven’s social and economic stability. The Yale Report’s vision for leadership and economic success not only excluded African Americans by default, but created a lasting binary that defined Black educational opportunities in the nineteenth century and beyond. The essay considers the near overlap between the writing of the Yale Report and the failed proposal to establish an African American men’s college in New Haven in 1831, placing the document within a key period in the history of American higher education in which education became highly commodified and racialized. Building upon scholarship on the Yale Report that has already considered its neorepublican aims, this essay opens the possibility of viewing the document beyond its immediate concerns with curricular reform and contemplating the elusive connections between American higher education, race, and power.

This glimpse into sex education in the Los Angeles region illustrates the eugenic ideas about racially “fit” reproduction that emerged in family life curricula during the Second World War. Ideas about eugenic reproduction in public schools responded to broader cultural fears about increasing divorce rates, criminality, immigration, and birthright citizenship. Eugenics in sex and family life education, importantly, portrayed a woman’s choice of mate as a civic responsibility, a move that paved the way for future conflicts about teaching gender and sexuality in public school sex education. Amid a half-century-long conflict over abstinence-only versus comprehensive sex education in public schools, topics like genetics and heredity have come to be widely accepted by both sides—recognized as a presumably value-neutral staple of sex education in US public schools. Yet recent innovations in genetic and reproductive technologies, as well as the conflict over trans and queer youth in the United States, challenge the assumption that teaching genetics and heredity in public schools really is “value neutral.”

For over forty years, presidents of the Summer School Association of Queen’s University wrote annually to teachers across Canada, encouraging them to attend summer courses for credit toward a bachelor of arts. In the 1920s, presidents’ messages associated attendance with societal progress and the professionalization of teaching. In the 1930s, such messages linked attendance with personal growth and career development. In the 1940s and 1950s, they linked attendance with having an enjoyable summer vacation. This article analyzes how and why these messages evolved and argues that the underlying structure of the messages remained consistent: they were means through which Queen’s Summer School Association presidents marked symbolic boundaries between more and less professional teachers. This article contributes to our understanding of the social history of teacher education by interpreting a unique primary data source to explore the participation of teachers themselves in the construction of symbolic boundaries marking professional status.

The University of British Columbia (UBC) opened Canada’s first International House (I-House) in 1959 after a decade of activism from students and faculty. Students had demanded an I-House to help them find housing, and to ensure that “brotherhood may prevail,” as the I-House motto promised. The I-House campaign received support from community groups that raised the funds to build the UBC I-House. UBC’s administration wanted I-House as a social center that could coordinate fledgling international student services and resisted the residential I-House model. Ultimately, UBC’s administrators won out and the residential component was never built. This paper examines the conflict about building a residence to house international and domestic students together, chronicling the competing visions of international student policy and services that were circulating at one of Canada’s largest universities in the early days of the Cold War.

Most studies of sex education center on local Anglo-Euro-American contexts, tracing the origin of sex education to a coordinated response to the spread of venereal diseases. These neglect the circumstances in which sex education developed in the developing world between the 1950s and 1980s: a growing collective anxiety about rising birth rates that culminated in the adoption of population control measures. This paper examines the “glocal” history of population-centered sex education in the developing world in the 1960s and 1970s, through the case study of Singapore. Examining the emergence of the first sex education curriculum in post-independence Singapore between 1966 and 1973, I argue that population-centered sex education that emerged in Singapore was intimately connected with global population politics. Analysis of how the policy was formulated shows that the Singapore state reacted to both domestic and global concerns. In connecting local developments to global contexts, this paper gestures toward the possibilities of studying the global history of population-centered sex education.

This paper explores the movement of the New York City Interborough Association of Women Teachers (IAWT) for “equal pay for equal work” in teaching salaries, which it won in 1911. The IAWT’s success sheds light on the possibilities and limits of women teachers advocating for change within a feminized profession. Leading the movement were of a group of women teachers, organizing before woman’s suffrage and in an era of sex-differentiated work and pay, who convinced the city’s public and state’s legislators that they deserved pay equal to what men teachers received. They did so by strategic maneuvering in city and state politics and making equal pay look reasonable. And they did so by narrowly defining their goals and leaning on their identities as women to push a theoretically sex-neutral claim of justice. Their success, though limited, was nonetheless a victory in shifting ideas about women’s societal and professional status in New York City and the state.

In the United States and Europe, para-university institutions have often been viewed as postsecondary institutions that satisfy some needs not addressed by universities. Such para-universities might be technical institutes or research centers affiliated with a parent university and/or a nation-state. In stateless nations, however, para-universities have acquired certain characteristics that, compared with nation-states, distinguish them in their rationale and development. In the Basque Country of Spain, the Basque Studies Society—an institution not born from, or linked to, any parent university—sought to unite the promotion of science and indigenous culture with a demand for educational and political autonomy. The Basque case reveals instructive contrasts that separate para-university practice from that of its European and American counterparts. This article analyzes para-university practice and activities during the first two decades of the Basque Studies Society (1918-1936). With its emphasis upon political autonomy as well as the absence of an established nation-state and the lack of a university that served as a base, this case study challenges traditional conceptions of the para-university in its essence and praxis.

This paper uses the writings of European teachers and Chinese students at St. Stephen’s Girls’ College in Hong Kong—published in English periodicals of its school magazine and local English newspapers—to examine how the school tactically positioned itself as an educational site for the “useful women of China” during a period in Republican China that was simultaneously defined as a time of “cosmopolitan modernity” and “national rebuilding.” St. Stephen’s brand of usefulness responded to the “New Woman” phenomenon in Republican China, and it was defined through the narrative of science learning and a sense of service. Through its progressive science curriculum and social service branch, the school helped prepare a class of “career women” for China. It was in educating this class that St. Stephen’s, in resonance with the colonial state, envisioned its role in the shaping of modern China.

This article traces the transnational circulation of socialist reforms in the field of sex education through the work of Monika Krause, a citizen of the German Democratic Republic (GDR) who migrated to Cuba and became the “Cuban Queen of Condoms.” For Krause, the overarching goal of sex education was to “teach tenderness” to the people. The socialist state’s mission to prepare the population for love, marriage, partnership, and family in Cuba and the GDR involved using complex measures. This paper describes these, contextualizes them in transnational debates, and explains some of the internal reasoning behind their institutionalization. It also explains why looking at state-level efforts to “teach tenderness to the people” matters for a transnational history of sex education.

The educational mission of most western schools today includes the nurturing of children’s sexual upbringing, which many scholars see as a way of controlling their sexuality and forming them into “sexual citizens.” This article examines how official Swedish school guidelines and textbooks have mediated sexuality norms through education on masturbation. The professional discourse on masturbation started to change during the first half of the twentieth century, when masturbation shifted from being perceived as something harmful to something accepted as natural and harmless. This article focuses on a period following that shift in opinion: circa 1945-2000. The analysis shows that boys’ sexuality during this time received more attention than girls’, and a strong new norm about sex contributed to masturbation taking on less importance than heterosexual intercourse within a relationship. This article shows how state-controlled curricula have created norms about gender and sexuality, thus contributing to the development of a sexual citizenship.

The 1971 passage of the Twenty-Sixth Amendment to the US Constitution was a significant step in advancing voting rights that offered a new route for young people to participate in public life. While met with enthusiasm in many quarters, the question of where a substantial segment of the youth vote—college students—would cast their ballots was a concern even before the amendment’s ratification. After ratification, it became a serious point of conflict, with opponents to college-town voting arguing that students should be forced to vote where their parents lived. In numerous towns these arguments turned to efforts to deny or complicate registration and voting, intimidate students, or gerrymander to reduce students’ influence. At times, these efforts were explicitly aimed at Black students. This article examines these efforts to prevent students from voting in their college towns in the 1970s, demonstrating that they could serve the strategy of disenfranchising the newly franchised.

Student development theory (SDT) is a diverse corpus of academic and popular psychology with real-world application to the maturation of college and university students. It originated during the campus upheavals of the 1960s as part of a collective effort to reconcile restive students to mass higher education and modern technological society. Then, in the 1970s, SDT was implemented and refined by an ambitious generation of student affairs professionals eager for institutional influence and academic legitimacy. By providing an animating moral and intellectual purpose to the bureaucratic sundering of student affairs divisions from academic affairs divisions, SDT abetted a lasting institutional and cultural change in the organization of the modern university circa 1970. As a discourse of therapeutic empowerment, SDT has had an enduring influence on the daily practice of student affairs administration in the five decades since.

Book banning is a topic covered in many US history classrooms. Students learn that in the first decades of the twentieth century, fights over the teaching of evolution led to restrictions on science texts. Meanwhile, fears about the spread of communism sparked campaigns to limit access to “subversive” ideas. Well into the 1960s, textbooks usually explain, Americans remained at odds about what schools should be free to teach.

What’s old is new, it seems. And tomorrow’s textbooks will have to be updated with stories from the present. As this issue goes to press, conservative groups across the United States have sought to remove hundreds of titles from schools and libraries. Such attempts range from challenges filed by individual parents—often inspired by the list curated on BookLooks.org—to statewide legislative efforts to recall books from schools. Thousands of books have been removed from libraries and classrooms, and the chilling effect has led cautious educators to self-censor even further.

For this policy dialogue, the HEQ editors asked Adam Laats and Kasey Meehan to discuss book banning in the US, focusing particularly on the motivations of groups seeking to limit what young people can read. Adam Laats is a professor of education and history at SUNY Binghamton. A leading scholar of conservative activism in education, he is the author of several books including The Other School Reformers (Harvard University Press, 2015) and Fundamentalist U (Oxford University Press, 2018). Kasey Meehan is the director of the Freedom to Read program at PEN America, where she leads initiatives to protect the right of students to freely access literature in schools. Founded in 1922, PEN America is the largest of the more than one hundred centers worldwide that make up the PEN International network. PEN America works to ensure that people everywhere have the freedom to create literature, to convey information and ideas, to express their views, and to access the views, ideas, and literatures of others.

HEQ policy dialogues are, by design, intended to promote an informal, free exchange of ideas between scholars. At the end of the exchange, we offer a list of references for readers who wish to follow up on sources relevant to the discussion.

Public education, at least as it has been known for the past several generations in the US, is under threat. Conservative state legislatures from Arizona to Florida have enacted sweeping voucher legislation, channeling taxpayer dollars to private schools. At the same time, a vicious culture war has engulfed the public education system in controversy, creating new political opportunities for ideologues and opponents. In this context, the editorial team at HEQ felt it important to reflect on why we have public schools in the first place. What are they good for and what should be taught? Whom should they serve, and who should govern them?

For this policy dialogue, we asked Carol Burris and Johann Neem to discuss the past, present, and future of open-enrollment, taxpayer-supported public schools. Carol Burris is the executive director of the Network for Public Education Foundation and the author of several books. Prior to that role, Dr. Burris was a classroom teacher and a high school principal, earning educator of the year and principal of the year awards. Johann Neem is a professor at Western Washington University and a historian of the early American republic. The author of several books, including Democracy’s Schools: The Rise of Public Education in America, Dr. Neem is also a member of HEQ’s editorial board.

HEQ policy dialogues are, by design, intended to promote an informal, free exchange of ideas between scholars. At the end of the exchange, we offer a list of references for readers who wish to follow up on sources relevant to the discussion.