Everywhere you turn there has been a ramp-up to the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. This may seem like a silly question, but where does history actually fit into all of this?
Is history only an argument now? Who owns history? Every conversation about America’s semiquincentennial, or 250 years, seems to begin with a debate. Should we celebrate? Should we commemorate? Whose flag is it? Should we focus on the Founders? On slavery? On Indigenous history? On ideals? On failures? On promises fulfilled or promises broken?
These are important questions. But also, can a celebration of our history ever be fun?
I was a child during America’s Bicentennial in 1976. Like many Gen X Americans, some of my earliest memories of history arrived not through scholarly monographs or museum exhibits but through Saturday morning cartoons. This was “Schoolhouse Rock,” with “I’m Just a Bill.” The Preamble sung in a way that permanently embedded the beginning of the Constitution into the brains of millions of children. “Fireworks,” “Three Ring Circus,” and the “Great American Melting Pot.” Or “No Kings,” with its little Mayflower ‘rockin and a rollin, splishin’ and a splashin’, over the horizon’ to America. These cartoons were called “History Rock.” There was a sense that history belonged to all of us, especially children. It was accessible and essential.
In the mid 20th century, the Bicentennial was on everyone’s mind. In 1969, the musical “1776” premiered on Broadway. Long before “Hamilton” introduced a new generation to the Founding Era, 1776 brought the Continental Congress to Broadway. Then, in 1972, the film version of the musical opened in movie theaters around the country. NBC created special Bicentennial programming for the 1976-77 TV season, premiering the film “1776” on network TV. The musical reminded audiences that disagreement and democracy have always gone hand in hand.
The Bicentennial wasn’t celebrated perfectly. Historians have since pointed out that many of the celebrations emphasized a patriotic consensus while paying less attention to difficult chapters of the American story. Yet for many Americans, the Bicentennial, especially “Schoolhouse Rock,” succeeded in something remarkable: It made people curious about the past.
During the Bicentennial, children collected commemorative quarters and lunchboxes. Families visited historic sites. Tall ships streamed into New York Harbor. Communities painted fire hydrants red, white and blue. The Santa Clarita Valley hosted Bicentennial kickoff events with quilt making and exhibitions. The Freedom Train crisscrossed the nation carrying historical artifacts. Is there a bit of nostalgia here, yes. But history felt less like a battleground and more like an invitation.
Today’s celebration, as America approaches 250, the atmosphere feels different. Instead of anticipation, many people seem exhausted. Instead of asking what we can learn from the past, we’re often asked to declare which side of a historical argument we occupy.
We’re missing an opportunity with America 250. It’s not a political argument. It should be an invitation. An invitation to visit a local museum. To read a primary source. To take a history class. To learn the story of your town. To discover the experiences of people whose names rarely appear in textbooks.
To ask questions. To connect.
Fortunately, the SCV already has organizations dedicated to preserving, sharing and exploring our history and civic life. We can visit the SCV Historical Society, explore local exhibits and archives, participate in programs offered through the Santa Clarita Public Library, attend community events, take a history class at College of the Canyons, or engage in civic education and voter outreach through the League of Women Voters SCV.
History doesn’t always have to be political, does it? Can’t it also be accessible and fun? After all, a nation that continues to ask questions about its history is a nation that remains engaged in the future. History can be an opportunity for every community to reflect on its own place within the larger American story.
As America turns 250, perhaps the most important thing we can do is foster a renewed sense of curiosity about the past and a renewed commitment to learning from it.
Julie Johnson
Valencia
