Janine Thorn on Carter G. Woodson's enduring impact.

On a quiet morning in February 1933, as the Great Depression pressed heavily on American classrooms, Dr. Carter G. Woodson published a slim but incendiary book: The Miseducation of the Negro. It was not written for shock value, nor was it meant only for Black readers. It was a warning to public education itself—one that still echoes through our schools today. 

Woodson, a trained historian and the son of formerly enslaved parents, understood education from the inside out. He had walked miles to attend school, earned a Ph.D. from Harvard, and worked as both a teacher and administrator. Yet he saw something deeply broken: an education system that claimed neutrality while quietly teaching millions of students—especially Black students—that their history, culture, and lived experiences were marginal, irrelevant, or nonexistent. 

Woodson’s core argument was deceptively simple: education that ignores or distorts a people’s history does not empower them; it conditions them. Students learn not only facts, but values—who matters, whose knowledge counts, and where they fit in the world. When curricula present one narrow narrative as universal truth, schools unintentionally train students to disengage from their communities and distrust their own capacity to lead change. 

For public education communicators today, this insight is critical. Our work is not only about telling the story of schools—it is about shaping the story students tell themselves. 

Woodson did not believe education should be abstract or disconnected from daily life. Like his contemporary George Washington Carver, who transformed agricultural education at Tuskegee by making it practical, accessible, and community-centered, Woodson believed learning should serve real people in real contexts. Where Carver brought science to farmers through bulletins and mobile classrooms, Woodson brought history to the public through textbooks, journals, and the founding of what we now celebrate as Black History Month. 

Importantly, Woodson did not advocate for exclusion or separatism. He argued for completeness. He believed public education could only be truly public if it reflected the full breadth of American experience. In that sense, The Miseducation of the Negro was not an attack on schools—it was a call to make them better. 

Nearly a century later, his message remains strikingly relevant. Today’s educators and communicators navigate conversations about curriculum relevance, student engagement, equity, and trust in public institutions. Woodson anticipated these challenges. He understood that when students do not see themselves in what they are taught, they may succeed academically yet feel disconnected from civic life. Conversely, when education affirms identity while encouraging critical thinking, it produces citizens prepared not just to earn, but to lead. 

For school communicators, Woodson’s legacy is a reminder that messaging matters as much as policy. How we frame history initiatives, cultural observances, and community partnerships signals whether schools value inclusion as a principle or as a slogan. Woodson showed that authentic educational storytelling requires courage—the courage to examine whose voices have been amplified and whose have been omitted. 

Perhaps most enduring is Woodson’s belief that education should cultivate agency. He wanted students to ask questions, challenge assumptions, and apply knowledge in service of their communities. That vision aligns seamlessly with modern goals of project-based learning, culturally responsive teaching, and civic engagement. 

Carter G. Woodson’s contribution to public education was not just a book written in 1933. It was a philosophy that insists education is never neutral—and therefore must be intentional. As communicators entrusted with shaping public understanding of schools, we continue his work when we help tell fuller, truer stories about who our students are and what they can become. 

In doing so, we ensure that education remains not a tool of miseducation, but a pathway to collective progress.

February is Black History Month, a meaningful time to reflect, uplift and learn. Throughout the month, we’re sharing stories and perspectives from NSPRA members that honor lived experiences and explore how communication can foster belonging in our schools and communities all year round. If you would like to contribute a personal reflection connected to Black History Month or share a communications strategy, initiative or campaign your district is leading to celebrate, educate or engage your community during the month, please email Janine Thorn at vpdiversity@nspra.org.