History

With the exception of Casablanca and Newsies, I cannot repeat the lines of movies.

I can’t tell you who sang what song or how to add fractions.

But when it comes to American history, it seems that my memory remains fully intact.

I was blessed with amazing history teachers throughout my entire life. They did not have me memorize facts or watch boring documentaries. They involved me, made me feel like I was there.

When explaining the American Revolution, my 7th grade history teacher (Mr. Lademan), brought us out to the football field behind the school. He divided us, gave us some sticks and then had us walk towards each other. He finally told us to stop, maybe 5 feet from each other, and told us that was the firing range of the musket. Let me tell you, hearing that fact told in a classroom is not the same as staring into the eyes of your classmates at point blank range.

Not only did my teachers tell the stories, they made us tell them in our own way. Practically no one I know can tell me how World War I began. The reason it is embedded in my memory? I had to write, produce and act in a silent movie depicting the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand.

But it isn’t just remembering what happened and why. It is the goosebumps and personal connection I feel when visiting historical locations. The first time I went to Ellis Island, I found myself sitting in the main hall where the families would have waited, tears falling down my face. Even though the corn in the field at Antietam was less than a few weeks old, all I could see was trampled stalks stained with blood from Civil War soldiers.

My teachers instilled a deep love of history that is physically manifested – an appreciation for where I came from, and where I am going.

This video may be silly, but it is projects like this that sparked learning, understanding and connection.

Play with history. You’ll be better for it.