Ray Robinson says that bias in the American classroom is at least as old as America itself.
"The first real courses in American history were at Harvard, in 1875, taught by Henry Adams, John Quincy Adams' grandson," says Robinson. "Since Adams was a liberal, the university hired Henry Cabot Lodge, a conservative, to counter him. Students were able to take the same course twice—to get both viewpoints."
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Ray Robinson |
And if you take one of Ray Robinson's American history courses as Northeastern University in Boston, you'll have absolutely no doubt of his own political perspective.
"For years, I have told my students my political affiliations so that they know exactly where I'm coming from," says the American history professor, who has been teaching for fifty-five years. "Then they can decide whether I'm being fair or unfair, or giving the party I favor the benefit of the doubt. Besides political affiliation, I often talk about my own life experiences and how they relate to what we're studying."
That life began in Clearfield, Pennsylvania, in 1927, where Robinson discovered his calling early on.
"In third grade, I saw a bulletin board my teacher had put up about George Washington's life," he recalls. "That's what got me into history. It also inspired me to start a collection on George Washington that I continue to this day. Eventually it will go to Mount Vernon."
Robinson came to Penn State in 1945, just after the war ended, and lived in a rooming house on the corner of Beaver and Atherton. His history professors were wonderful, he says. Due to attend graduate school at the University of Wisconsin in 1949, Robinson decided not to go when his father became ill.
"I returned to Penn State for my master's degree, which I received in 1950," says Robinson. "Then I taught for one year at the Penn State Center in Pottsville."
While working on his master's thesis, "The Scopes Trial: A Case Study in Fundamentalism," under Professor Ira Brown, Robinson took Brown's advice.
"Ira told me that I had to go to Harvard to study with his mentor Arthur M. Schlesinger, Sr.," he recalls. "And that was all the encouragement I needed."
Robinson was accepted into Harvard and soon became Schlesinger's graduate assistant and grader. Though one of the country's preeminent historians, Schlesinger did not relish all aspects of his academic career. Robinson discovered this when Schlesinger retired in 1954, and gave his student one of his books.
"He inscribed it, 'For Ray, after forty-two years of bondage,' says Robinson. "The bondage he was referring to was his own—teaching for forty-two years. But I've never felt that way. I love teaching and get re-excited about it every new year."
But teaching, in Robinson's opinion, must remain fluid to stay interesting. In his classes, he is constantly drawing parallels from the past to the present to keep his material relevant.
"Most of my students are not going to be history professors; they're going to be citizens," he says. "I want them to have some interest in picking up a magazine or newspaper and to be able to see connections with the past."
Robinson feels that drawing upon his own life helps make these connections tangible. Although aware that other professors do not share his openness, Robinson freely references family anecdotes and stories in his expansive view of history.
"I think my students like the fact that I'm open and I encourage them to interrupt me in the middle of a lecture if they don't agree with what I'm saying." he says. "Students let me know if they think I'm not being fair."