Lies my teacher told me A graphic adaptation

A dense, text-heavy book like Loewen's Lies My Teacher Told Me, a critical analysis of history textbooks in America, hardly seems like a good candidate for a graphic adaptation, but luckily for readers, Powell (artist for the March series) is certainly up to the task. The new format helps visualize some of the more concrete data Loewen cites in graphs and charts, but it also neatly emphasizes the importance of an emotional connection to history, a key argument Loewen makes about the pitfalls of traditional history classes. Loewen himself is a figure in Powell's artwork, introducing concepts to a class of contemporary students who often appear aghast, frustrated, or defeated when they learn the facts behind familiar textbook accounts of events. Further, Powell thoughtfully includes images and symbols that link Loewen's accounts of historical events to the present moment, powerfully connecting past and present in line with Loewen's arguments about how best to grasp history. While it's perhaps best read in concert with the original text, this new iteration cleverly demonstrates Loewen's key concepts while vividly bringing the content to life.

"History is the only field in which the MORE courses students take, the STUPIDER they become," according to this striking graphic adaptation by cartoonist Powell (the March series) of sociologist Loewen's groundbreaking 1995 study, which challenged the prevailing version of American history taught in public schools. From elementary school mythology surrounding Christopher Columbus through the falsehoods, half-truths, and purposeful omissions that inform a typical student's understanding of slavery, the Civil War, Vietnam, and post-9/11 political discourse, Loewen and Powell's insightful and often irreverent approach upends standard narratives. They examine the underlying motivations and trends that informed and bolstered a Eurocentric and often idealized version of history--which never let the truth get in the way of a good story in favor of nationalism. Powell's characteristically fluid art lends new depth to revisited figures including Helen Keller, known by most Americans solely for her disabilities and not for her radical activism, and abolitionist John Brown, condemned by U.S. history books as a mentally disturbed violent extremist rather than a dedicated social progressive. Long a favorite of radical educators, Loewen's original text receives the vital and accessible adaptation it deserves. (Apr.)