Abby:
Not to argue but to express an opinion. To wit: I consider my three
years of active duty in WWII and subsequent seven years of Reserve Duty
to have been the greatest and most beneficially formative years of my
life and allowed me to obtain a College Degree in Chemical Engineering.
Richard
On 8/25/2016 4:02 PM, Abby Vincent wrote:
When my son was in middle school, the school seriously considered Jr. ROTC.
They would get considerable money, as well as taming the bad bloys. Girls
weren't allowed.
Fortunately there was enough parent opposition. After meetings with the
school board, principal, leafleting, etc, we won.
Abby
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[mailto:blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On Behalf Of Bob Hachey
Sent: Thursday, August 25, 2016 2:21 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: Why on Earth Are We Allowing the Homeland
Security Department into Public High Schools?
Amen Brother!
Not much shocks me anymore but this one did.
Looks like something straight out of Orwell.
Four legs good! Two legs Bad!
Bob Hachey
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[mailto:blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On Behalf Of Frank Ventura
Sent: Tuesday, August 23, 2016 8:45 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: Why on Earth Are We Allowing the Homeland
Security Department into Public High Schools?
That is not a school. That is an indoctrination camp.
Frank
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[mailto:blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On Behalf Of Miriam Vieni
Sent: Tuesday, August 23, 2016 7:03 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Why on Earth Are We Allowing the Homeland
Security Department into Public High Schools?
This is, perhaps, the most chilling article I've read today.
Miriam
Published on Alternet (http://www.alternet.org) Home > Why on Earth Are We
Allowing the Homeland Security Department into Public High Schools?
________________________________________
Why on Earth Are We Allowing the Homeland Security Department into Public
High Schools?
By Nicole Nguyen [1] / University of Minnesota Press [2] August 22, 2016 The
following is an excerpt from the new book A Curriculum of Fear [3] by Nicole
Nguyen (Minnesota Press, 2016):
As I did most mornings in the field, I drove up to Milton High School's
faculty parking lot, passing through a barbed wire-lined chain link fence
that wound its way around the school. Two signs welcomed me onto Milton
public school property, which rests on the edge of the Fort Milton military
base in the greater D.C. area: "Warning: Restricted Area" and "This area
patrolled by military working dogs." After parking, I walked to the front of
the school and bound up the long set of stairs, nodding hello to two
students hanging out on a blue metal bench marked with the school's logo. On
my way, I noticed two police cars parked out front, one more than usual.
I knew the school's front doors would be locked, so I peered through the
small windows next to the steel doors in search of a student who might open
them so I could avoid buzzing the main office. Soon enough, a student pushed
open one of the doors for me. After I walked in, he glanced outside for any
other stragglers. I then reported directly to the main office, following the
signs that asked me to do so. I maneuvered around dillydallying students
who, late to class, dragged their feet even more to spite the teacher who
chided them as she passed by. On my way, I found that the cheerful murals of
the Capitol and Statue of Liberty brightened the school's windowless but
clean hallways.
Once in the main office, I routinely handed over my driver's license to the
school secretary, who scanned its barcode into her computer. Using the data
attached to my driver's license, the school computer ran my name through
Raptor's vSoft visitor management software, which detects registered sex
offenders and those with a record of domestic violence. My presence in the
school required that I submit an official form of identification and that I
comply with this background check each time I entered the school. While I
waited for the computer to complete its scan, I turned around to sign the
school logbook. I documented who I was, when I entered the building, and
where I intended to go. Looking up at the clock to record the time, I took a
minute to glance at the color TV monitors displaying real-time images from
the school's security cameras.
Behind me, administrator walkie-talkies buzzed with activity, calling school
staff to classrooms to remove disruptive students and reminding
administrators of meetings to which they were already late. Students bustled
in and out of the main office in search of a late pass, a missing notebook,
a friend. A parent waiting for a meeting with the principal nervously tapped
her foot. I smiled. On this April morning several months into my fieldwork
at Milton, the cadences of the school day felt familiar, with these scenes
predictably playing out in similar fashion each time I visited the school.
Turning back, the school secretary reached out with a visitor sticker that
displayed the photo from my license, my name, the date and time of my entry,
and my destination. As I took the sticker, my eyes wandered to a small,
telephone-like device behind the secretary. Surveillance video from a camera
perched above the school's front doors circuited to this device and allowed
me to watch as a parent rang the main office for entry into the school.
After checking this screen, the secretary pressed a button that momentarily
unlocked the front door.
Peeling off the back of my visitor badge, I pressed the sticker to my chest.
Looking down, I checked that the sticker stuck and was clearly visible to
the police officers and hall monitors patrolling Milton. A hall monitor had
recently chastised me for not submitting to these security procedures, and
so I intended to show my full compliance, at least for one day. Holding the
door open for the newly arrived parent, I thanked the secretary and turned
to head to the class I was set to observe that day: Foundations of Homeland
Security 1, a required course for students enrolled in the public school's
specialized Homeland Security program.
On that spring day, I observed ninth-grade students in the Foundations of
Homeland Security 1 class discuss with their teacher "Besides death, why
would a terrorist attack U.S. agriculture?" As the teacher explained to her
eager students about the economics of the U.S. food supply and the deaths
that could result from the movement of contaminated foods across state
lines, I wondered, how did the United States get here? What investments and
social structures made this discussion about terrorism and national security
in a U.S. public high school not only possible but frighteningly normalized?
Opening the Doors to the National Security Industry Having observed and
interacted with mostly ninth-and tenth-grade students at Milton, my first
real conversation with eleventh grader Jamal occurred when I formally
interviewed him toward the end of the school year. A soft-spoken and polite
Black boy with braces, Jamal enrolled in Milton's Homeland Security program
in his freshman year and was on track to graduate with a geographic
information systems (GIS) certification that would qualify him for
entry-level map-making jobs as a GIS technician. Given his training, Jamal
intended to pursue a career in the cybersecurity industry for either the
government or the private sector. He was even in the process of obtaining a
"top secret" security clearance for a summer internship at the National
Security Agency (NSA).
In his interview, Jamal reflected on his time in Milton's Homeland Security
program, tracing what he learned, the opportunities made available to him,
and his new career goals:
"I came in not knowing anything about terrorism and, you know, you learn a
lot of information and background on it. And also get opportunities you
wouldn't really expect to get. And, okay, so, what can I do? They kind of
help you with your career and even make sure your grades are on point. . . .
It might be like for the government 'cause, like, GIS, I've thought about
opportunities. You don't even have to work for the government. You could
work for private companies. So it gives you a lot of options to think about.
. . . And I'm meeting good people. For instance, internship opportunities:
one of the internship opportunities I was given was for NSA. I was an intern
for DISA, for the Defense Information Systems Agency, and I met some good
people. . . . And, that's probably the best part of this program is you get
lots of experience. You meet lots of people, high people like military
generals."
In meeting "high people" through the Homeland Security program, Jamal landed
a potential internship with the NSA. Like most jobs at the NSA, Jamal's
internship was contingent on passing a security clearance: a rigorous
background check of both prior behavior and loyalty to the nation.
Sixteen-year-old Jamal told me that he had begun the security clearance
process in September and expected that it "wouldn't end until August." He
went on to say that he had already "taken [his] polygraph at least three
times" but that it was typical to take multiple polygraphs because "you're
nervous and, you know, your heart rate is up and stuff like that." Being at
the NSA for his "poly" (as some Milton students called it, using the jargon
they learned from guest speakers) was a new experience for Jamal, especially
because the NSA required that he answer questions without the presence of
his parents: "The poly's kind of hard 'cause you're in an environment that
you're alone. . . . I'm not used to that: being alone and in a work
environment. But I'm getting through it."
Eleventh grader Martrez echoed Jamal, explaining that Milton's Homeland
Security program not only taught him about terrorism but also "opened doors"
for him as he "met a lot of NSA officers and the CEO of Dell." Martrez, for
example, "went to a meeting/luncheon that had all the high corporations in
there." At this event, Martrez "talked about cybersecurity and stuff like
that" with these high-level national security experts. For Martrez, this
experience represented how he "got to meet a lot of people" through the
Homeland Security program. In fact, while Martrez "always wanted to get a
job with the government," the opportunity to "see all the guest speakers
that come in or the people [he] met" through the Homeland Security program
"narrowed" his "career decision." By studying terrorism and learning about
national security careers, Martrez now "knew" he "want[ed] to get a job in
NSA, FBI, something like that." In addition, Martrez regularly "turned on
the news to see what's happening," especially "if it's something really
interesting like what we're talking about like terrorist attacks." Martrez
applied his new national security knowledge to "be aware of what's happening
around [him]" and "make certain judgments about certain people just by the
way they carry themselves."
After spending many months at Milton, I found my conversations with Jamal
and Martrez unsurprising. Most Milton students spoke knowledgably about the
threats the United States faced, their potential careers in the national
security industry, and what they needed to do to qualify for those jobs.
Like Jamal and Martrez, many students expressed excited enthusiasm over
their participation in the Homeland Security program and eagerly relayed to
me their experiences, opportunities, and new knowledge.
While I found the national security focus of the program unsettling,
spending time at Milton proved to be a pleasurable experience. The program's
newly designed classes, field trips, guest speakers, and hands-on learning
opportunities kept me, and the students, engaged. Jamal and Martrez's
trajectory-learning about national security threats for the first time,
going on field trips and meeting "high people," dreaming of a career in the
security industry, and sometimes even earning coveted security
clearances-mirrored the experiences of other students enrolled in Milton's
Homeland Security program.
Jamal's and Martrez's narratives are but two stories that animate what a
high school education in national security entails and what it means for
students, teachers, and the United States.
Stumbling on Milton
When I initially explained to colleagues that my research looked intimately
at a high school with a Homeland Security program, some expressed surprise
that such a curriculum existed. Others asked how I had arrived at such a
research project. Like me, they had never heard of a specialized Homeland
Security program despite routinely immersing ourselves in literatures on
public school reform, militarization, and national security. The program's
focus on terrorism, deep imbrication with the national security industry,
and absence in scholarship on U.S. public schools captured my, and my
colleagues', attention. From the outset, we agreed that this emerging trend
in U.S. public education required more attention.
I first learned about Franklin County Public Schools's Milton High School
and its Homeland Security program through an off-the-mark Google search for
articles on the mobilization of girls' education to justify war. After a
spiraling series of haphazard Internet clicks, I stumbled upon a newspaper
article lauding Milton's Homeland Security program. This article framed the
program as an innovative project that aligned with the region's rapidly
growing national security labor needs. Milton's new program, the article
reported, intended to improve the quality of education for its student body,
primarily poor and working-class youth of color. To do so, Milton connected
classroom learning to future national security jobs. Curious about a public
high school with a national security-focused, work-oriented program, I read
on.
In 2008, I learned, Milton High School implemented its Homeland Security
program in an attempt to turn the struggling school around and revamp its
reputation as an influx of middle-class families began moving into the
rapidly growing area. Many of these families relocated to Franklin County to
assume elite jobs in the national security industry, which experienced
massive growth across the United States after September 11, 2001. Milton
partnered with major defense contractors like Northrop Grumman and federal
agencies like the NSA to facilitate these efforts. These public-private
partnerships helped transform Milton's classes to focus on issues of
national security and provided pathways to industry-related jobs. Teachers
worked with these partners to connect classroom learning to national
security skills, values, and jobs.
Algebra teacher Ms. Simmons, for instance, described a "power lunch" with a
Northrop Grumman engineer to develop eight lesson plans related to national
security. These lesson plans included applying the probability factor to
determine the threat level at international airports and studying parabolas
to calculate the trajectory needed for a U.S. sniper to shoot a target in
North Korea. For Ms. Simmons, connecting mathematics to the national
security industry showed her students "why you need to know this," thus
sparking interest in her class. District administrator Mr. Arnold echoed Ms.
Simmons, insisting that the Homeland Security program counteracted Milton's
"discipline problems" and "improved academic improvement" by "giving kids a
connection" and "a reason" to engage in the classroom. Meanwhile, industry
partners lauded these curricular rewrites as an innovative way to train
students for future national security jobs.
The Homeland Security program, it seemed from these brief write-ups,
intended to improve underperforming Milton by engaging its students through
hands-on lessons, field trips, and guest speakers all related to national
security. To do so, the school invited high-level national security experts
to talk with Milton students about their daily work preventing terrorist
attacks. Students attended field trips to places like a nearby international
airport to learn about the security measures used to thwart terrorist
hijackings. Milton students also enrolled in newly designed discussion-based
and current events-driven courses like Foundations of Homeland Security 1
and National Security Intelligence. Students chose national security-related
electives like Geographic Information Systems (GIS), which could credential
them for entry-level work in the map-making industry. Through all of these
opportunities, Milton staff provided their students with a comprehensive
training in national security that prepared them for vocational jobs in the
industry.
Milton administrators told reporters that training students for careers
through these corporatized work-based learning opportunities served as a way
to bring "relevance" to education. Consequently, students who might
otherwise have disengaged from school came to class excited because their
learning linked directly to future national security jobs.
As I scrolled to the bottom of the newspaper article, I felt surprised. A
U.S. public high school trained its students as the next generation of
national security workers? I had never heard of a high school with a
Homeland Security program designed to prepare poor and working-class youth
of color for national security industry jobs. I knew that U.S. schools
increasingly reorganized their curricula to prepare their students for work
after graduation and that military-themed charter schools were proliferating
in places like Chicago's South Side. I never, however, encountered a school
with such a narrow focus on national security. I imagined that Milton's
program was a rare anomaly. As I continued to read, though, the article
mentioned that Milton crafted its program after another public high school's
Homeland Security program.
A few more clicks and I found that about fifteen other high schools in
Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, New York, and California also boasted
their own formalized Homeland Security programs. In fact, I later learned
through informal networks established at Milton that eleven public schools
in the Mid-Atlantic region alone offered their own Homeland Security
programs. In addition to these established programs, twenty-two Mid-Atlantic
schools and two in Georgia planned to install programs in the coming years.
Most of these schools relied on active partnerships with the U.S. military
and national security industry. Because no database catalogs these high
school Homeland Security programs, more inevitably exist, especially as
public high schools continue to establish their own programs.
Even though these programs seemed to target students across race and class,
Milton's Homeland Security program coordinator Mr. Hopkins later explained
that another nearby high school designed an engineering-focused Homeland
Security program "because it's more affluent." Milton, conversely, created a
program with "more of a military focus," training students as future
Transportation Security Administration (TSA) agents, U.S. Customs and Border
Protection guards, cybersecurity technicians, and even "military grunts"
rather than for the upper echelons of the national security industry. While
all kinds of communities host high school Homeland Security programs,
schools often slated poor and working-class youth of color for a
military-style national security education while "more affluent" students
enjoyed an engineering-focused program.
In addition to these formalized Homeland Security programs, the national
security industry contributes to a variety of national security clubs,
extracurricular activities, competitions, and college scholarships. In fact,
one of Milton's industry partners, Northrop Grumman, annually invests
millions of dollars in educational programs from "early grades through the
university level" across the nation. Totaling $26.7 million in 2013 alone,
this financial commitment advances the "ongoing companywide mission to
ensure a pipeline of diverse talent needed for [Northrop Grumman's] future
workforce." Over the last few years, this major defense contractor provided
significant financial support to CyberPatriot, a middle and high school
cybersecurity competition, to spark student interest in the field. Northrop
Grumman also gifted $135,000 to a Los Angeles charter school operator to
build a Northrop Grumman Innovation Lab "where students research, design,
simulate, and test their real-world projects in a state-of-the-art
multimedia center." This lab mimics the Northrop Grumman workplace,
fostering the skills necessary to succeed within the company. Northrop
Grumman also welcomes schools, including Milton, for tours of its
Cybersecurity Operations Center (CSOC) in Maryland and its Center for
Innovative Solutions in Virginia. Milton reported that on a field trip to
the CSOC, students learned how to "prevent, detect, identify, contain,
triage, and eradicate cyber threats that occur daily . . . by individuals
and national actors including Russia, Iran, Israel, India, Cuba, South
Korea, North Korea, and France."
To supplement these and other programs, Northrop Grumman employees regularly
visit schools across the nation. Milton tenth grader Tyrell explained that
in his old neighborhood in another school district, Northrop Grumman
engineers visited his elementary school once a year to discuss their work.
Tyrell credited his desire to "get into engineering and work at Northrop
Grumman" to these early experiences. Given these Northrop Grumman
presentations, Tyrell explained that "it always seemed fun to be able to
help build the aircrafts and stuff that the military uses and do other
things like that." Northrop Grumman's continued presence in Tyrell's school
life shaped his career aspirations. Northrop Grumman commits resources and
expertise to preparing a "pipeline" of skilled workers for its labor force.
Northrop Grumman's multi-million-dollar investment in education and the
increasing number of schools with formalized Homeland Security programs
indicate that Milton was hardly unique. In fact, Milton seemed to point to a
growing trend in public schooling. Over the last decade, the September 11
attacks (re)intensified U.S. practices of security, defense, and protection
through increased militarization, surveillance, indefinite detention, and
zero-tolerance policing in its domestic and foreign engagements. The
creation of several high school Homeland Security programs seemed to signal
that this amplified focus on national security also informed U.S. school
reform projects and, perhaps, everyday life in schools.
Excerpt is reproduced by permission of the University of Minnesota Press
from the Introduction to A Curriculum of Fear: Homeland Security in U.S.
Public Schools by Nicole Nguyen. Copyright 2016 by the Regents of the
University of Minnesota. All rights reserved.
Nicole Nguyen is assistant professor of social foundations of education at
the University of Illinois-Chicago.
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Published on Alternet (http://www.alternet.org) Home > Why on Earth Are We
Allowing the Homeland Security Department into Public High Schools?
Why on Earth Are We Allowing the Homeland Security Department into Public
High Schools?
By Nicole Nguyen [1] / University of Minnesota Press [2] August 22, 2016
AddThis Sharing Buttons Share to Facebook1Share to TwitterShare to
Google+Share to MoreShare to Email The following is an excerpt from the
Google+new
book A Curriculum of Fear [3] by Nicole Nguyen (Minnesota Press, 2016):
As I did most mornings in the field, I drove up to Milton High School's
faculty parking lot, passing through a barbed wire-lined chain link fence
that wound its way around the school. Two signs welcomed me onto Milton
public school property, which rests on the edge of the Fort Milton military
base in the greater D.C. area: "Warning: Restricted Area" and "This area
patrolled by military working dogs." After parking, I walked to the front of
the school and bound up the long set of stairs, nodding hello to two
students hanging out on a blue metal bench marked with the school's logo. On
my way, I noticed two police cars parked out front, one more than usual.
I knew the school's front doors would be locked, so I peered through the
small windows next to the steel doors in search of a student who might open
them so I could avoid buzzing the main office. Soon enough, a student pushed
open one of the doors for me. After I walked in, he glanced outside for any
other stragglers. I then reported directly to the main office, following the
signs that asked me to do so. I maneuvered around dillydallying students
who, late to class, dragged their feet even more to spite the teacher who
chided them as she passed by. On my way, I found that the cheerful murals of
the Capitol and Statue of Liberty brightened the school's windowless but
clean hallways.
Once in the main office, I routinely handed over my driver's license to the
school secretary, who scanned its barcode into her computer. Using the data
attached to my driver's license, the school computer ran my name through
Raptor's vSoft visitor management software, which detects registered sex
offenders and those with a record of domestic violence. My presence in the
school required that I submit an official form of identification and that I
comply with this background check each time I entered the school. While I
waited for the computer to complete its scan, I turned around to sign the
school logbook. I documented who I was, when I entered the building, and
where I intended to go. Looking up at the clock to record the time, I took a
minute to glance at the color TV monitors displaying real-time images from
the school's security cameras.
Behind me, administrator walkie-talkies buzzed with activity, calling school
staff to classrooms to remove disruptive students and reminding
administrators of meetings to which they were already late. Students bustled
in and out of the main office in search of a late pass, a missing notebook,
a friend. A parent waiting for a meeting with the principal nervously tapped
her foot. I smiled. On this April morning several months into my fieldwork
at Milton, the cadences of the school day felt familiar, with these scenes
predictably playing out in similar fashion each time I visited the school.
Turning back, the school secretary reached out with a visitor sticker that
displayed the photo from my license, my name, the date and time of my entry,
and my destination. As I took the sticker, my eyes wandered to a small,
telephone-like device behind the secretary. Surveillance video from a camera
perched above the school's front doors circuited to this device and allowed
me to watch as a parent rang the main office for entry into the school.
After checking this screen, the secretary pressed a button that momentarily
unlocked the front door.
Peeling off the back of my visitor badge, I pressed the sticker to my chest.
Looking down, I checked that the sticker stuck and was clearly visible to
the police officers and hall monitors patrolling Milton. A hall monitor had
recently chastised me for not submitting to these security procedures, and
so I intended to show my full compliance, at least for one day. Holding the
door open for the newly arrived parent, I thanked the secretary and turned
to head to the class I was set to observe that day: Foundations of Homeland
Security 1, a required course for students enrolled in the public school's
specialized Homeland Security program.
On that spring day, I observed ninth-grade students in the Foundations of
Homeland Security 1 class discuss with their teacher "Besides death, why
would a terrorist attack U.S. agriculture?" As the teacher explained to her
eager students about the economics of the U.S. food supply and the deaths
that could result from the movement of contaminated foods across state
lines, I wondered, how did the United States get here? What investments and
social structures made this discussion about terrorism and national security
in a U.S. public high school not only possible but frighteningly normalized?
Opening the Doors to the National Security Industry Having observed and
interacted with mostly ninth-and tenth-grade students at Milton, my first
real conversation with eleventh grader Jamal occurred when I formally
interviewed him toward the end of the school year. A soft-spoken and polite
Black boy with braces, Jamal enrolled in Milton's Homeland Security program
in his freshman year and was on track to graduate with a geographic
information systems (GIS) certification that would qualify him for
entry-level map-making jobs as a GIS technician. Given his training, Jamal
intended to pursue a career in the cybersecurity industry for either the
government or the private sector. He was even in the process of obtaining a
"top secret" security clearance for a summer internship at the National
Security Agency (NSA).
In his interview, Jamal reflected on his time in Milton's Homeland Security
program, tracing what he learned, the opportunities made available to him,
and his new career goals:
"I came in not knowing anything about terrorism and, you know, you learn a
lot of information and background on it. And also get opportunities you
wouldn't really expect to get. And, okay, so, what can I do? They kind of
help you with your career and even make sure your grades are on point. . . .
It might be like for the government 'cause, like, GIS, I've thought about
opportunities. You don't even have to work for the government. You could
work for private companies. So it gives you a lot of options to think about.
. . . And I'm meeting good people. For instance, internship opportunities:
one of the internship opportunities I was given was for NSA. I was an intern
for DISA, for the Defense Information Systems Agency, and I met some good
people. . . . And, that's probably the best part of this program is you get
lots of experience. You meet lots of people, high people like military
generals."
In meeting "high people" through the Homeland Security program, Jamal landed
a potential internship with the NSA. Like most jobs at the NSA, Jamal's
internship was contingent on passing a security clearance: a rigorous
background check of both prior behavior and loyalty to the nation.
Sixteen-year-old Jamal told me that he had begun the security clearance
process in September and expected that it "wouldn't end until August." He
went on to say that he had already "taken [his] polygraph at least three
times" but that it was typical to take multiple polygraphs because "you're
nervous and, you know, your heart rate is up and stuff like that." Being at
the NSA for his "poly" (as some Milton students called it, using the jargon
they learned from guest speakers) was a new experience for Jamal, especially
because the NSA required that he answer questions without the presence of
his parents: "The poly's kind of hard 'cause you're in an environment that
you're alone. . . . I'm not used to that: being alone and in a work
environment. But I'm getting through it."
Eleventh grader Martrez echoed Jamal, explaining that Milton's Homeland
Security program not only taught him about terrorism but also "opened doors"
for him as he "met a lot of NSA officers and the CEO of Dell." Martrez, for
example, "went to a meeting/luncheon that had all the high corporations in
there." At this event, Martrez "talked about cybersecurity and stuff like
that" with these high-level national security experts. For Martrez, this
experience represented how he "got to meet a lot of people" through the
Homeland Security program. In fact, while Martrez "always wanted to get a
job with the government," the opportunity to "see all the guest speakers
that come in or the people [he] met" through the Homeland Security program
"narrowed" his "career decision." By studying terrorism and learning about
national security careers, Martrez now "knew" he "want[ed] to get a job in
NSA, FBI, something like that." In addition, Martrez regularly "turned on
the news to see what's happening," especially "if it's something really
interesting like what we're talking about like terrorist attacks." Martrez
applied his new national security knowledge to "be aware of what's happening
around [him]" and "make certain judgments about certain people just by the
way they carry themselves."
After spending many months at Milton, I found my conversations with Jamal
and Martrez unsurprising. Most Milton students spoke knowledgably about the
threats the United States faced, their potential careers in the national
security industry, and what they needed to do to qualify for those jobs.
Like Jamal and Martrez, many students expressed excited enthusiasm over
their participation in the Homeland Security program and eagerly relayed to
me their experiences, opportunities, and new knowledge.
While I found the national security focus of the program unsettling,
spending time at Milton proved to be a pleasurable experience. The program's
newly designed classes, field trips, guest speakers, and hands-on learning
opportunities kept me, and the students, engaged. Jamal and Martrez's
trajectory-learning about national security threats for the first time,
going on field trips and meeting "high people," dreaming of a career in the
security industry, and sometimes even earning coveted security
clearances-mirrored the experiences of other students enrolled in Milton's
Homeland Security program.
Jamal's and Martrez's narratives are but two stories that animate what a
high school education in national security entails and what it means for
students, teachers, and the United States.
Stumbling on Milton
When I initially explained to colleagues that my research looked intimately
at a high school with a Homeland Security program, some expressed surprise
that such a curriculum existed. Others asked how I had arrived at such a
research project. Like me, they had never heard of a specialized Homeland
Security program despite routinely immersing ourselves in literatures on
public school reform, militarization, and national security. The program's
focus on terrorism, deep imbrication with the national security industry,
and absence in scholarship on U.S. public schools captured my, and my
colleagues', attention. From the outset, we agreed that this emerging trend
in U.S. public education required more attention.
I first learned about Franklin County Public Schools's Milton High School
and its Homeland Security program through an off-the-mark Google search for
articles on the mobilization of girls' education to justify war. After a
spiraling series of haphazard Internet clicks, I stumbled upon a newspaper
article lauding Milton's Homeland Security program. This article framed the
program as an innovative project that aligned with the region's rapidly
growing national security labor needs. Milton's new program, the article
reported, intended to improve the quality of education for its student body,
primarily poor and working-class youth of color. To do so, Milton connected
classroom learning to future national security jobs. Curious about a public
high school with a national security-focused, work-oriented program, I read
on.
In 2008, I learned, Milton High School implemented its Homeland Security
program in an attempt to turn the struggling school around and revamp its
reputation as an influx of middle-class families began moving into the
rapidly growing area. Many of these families relocated to Franklin County to
assume elite jobs in the national security industry, which experienced
massive growth across the United States after September 11, 2001. Milton
partnered with major defense contractors like Northrop Grumman and federal
agencies like the NSA to facilitate these efforts. These public-private
partnerships helped transform Milton's classes to focus on issues of
national security and provided pathways to industry-related jobs. Teachers
worked with these partners to connect classroom learning to national
security skills, values, and jobs.
Algebra teacher Ms. Simmons, for instance, described a "power lunch" with a
Northrop Grumman engineer to develop eight lesson plans related to national
security. These lesson plans included applying the probability factor to
determine the threat level at international airports and studying parabolas
to calculate the trajectory needed for a U.S. sniper to shoot a target in
North Korea. For Ms. Simmons, connecting mathematics to the national
security industry showed her students "why you need to know this," thus
sparking interest in her class. District administrator Mr. Arnold echoed Ms.
Simmons, insisting that the Homeland Security program counteracted Milton's
"discipline problems" and "improved academic improvement" by "giving kids a
connection" and "a reason" to engage in the classroom. Meanwhile, industry
partners lauded these curricular rewrites as an innovative way to train
students for future national security jobs.
The Homeland Security program, it seemed from these brief write-ups,
intended to improve underperforming Milton by engaging its students through
hands-on lessons, field trips, and guest speakers all related to national
security. To do so, the school invited high-level national security experts
to talk with Milton students about their daily work preventing terrorist
attacks. Students attended field trips to places like a nearby international
airport to learn about the security measures used to thwart terrorist
hijackings. Milton students also enrolled in newly designed discussion-based
and current events-driven courses like Foundations of Homeland Security 1
and National Security Intelligence. Students chose national security-related
electives like Geographic Information Systems (GIS), which could credential
them for entry-level work in the map-making industry. Through all of these
opportunities, Milton staff provided their students with a comprehensive
training in national security that prepared them for vocational jobs in the
industry.
Milton administrators told reporters that training students for careers
through these corporatized work-based learning opportunities served as a way
to bring "relevance" to education. Consequently, students who might
otherwise have disengaged from school came to class excited because their
learning linked directly to future national security jobs.
As I scrolled to the bottom of the newspaper article, I felt surprised. A
U.S. public high school trained its students as the next generation of
national security workers? I had never heard of a high school with a
Homeland Security program designed to prepare poor and working-class youth
of color for national security industry jobs. I knew that U.S. schools
increasingly reorganized their curricula to prepare their students for work
after graduation and that military-themed charter schools were proliferating
in places like Chicago's South Side. I never, however, encountered a school
with such a narrow focus on national security. I imagined that Milton's
program was a rare anomaly. As I continued to read, though, the article
mentioned that Milton crafted its program after another public high school's
Homeland Security program.
A few more clicks and I found that about fifteen other high schools in
Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, New York, and California also boasted
their own formalized Homeland Security programs. In fact, I later learned
through informal networks established at Milton that eleven public schools
in the Mid-Atlantic region alone offered their own Homeland Security
programs. In addition to these established programs, twenty-two Mid-Atlantic
schools and two in Georgia planned to install programs in the coming years.
Most of these schools relied on active partnerships with the U.S. military
and national security industry. Because no database catalogs these high
school Homeland Security programs, more inevitably exist, especially as
public high schools continue to establish their own programs.
Even though these programs seemed to target students across race and class,
Milton's Homeland Security program coordinator Mr. Hopkins later explained
that another nearby high school designed an engineering-focused Homeland
Security program "because it's more affluent." Milton, conversely, created a
program with "more of a military focus," training students as future
Transportation Security Administration (TSA) agents, U.S. Customs and Border
Protection guards, cybersecurity technicians, and even "military grunts"
rather than for the upper echelons of the national security industry. While
all kinds of communities host high school Homeland Security programs,
schools often slated poor and working-class youth of color for a
military-style national security education while "more affluent" students
enjoyed an engineering-focused program.
In addition to these formalized Homeland Security programs, the national
security industry contributes to a variety of national security clubs,
extracurricular activities, competitions, and college scholarships. In fact,
one of Milton's industry partners, Northrop Grumman, annually invests
millions of dollars in educational programs from "early grades through the
university level" across the nation. Totaling $26.7 million in 2013 alone,
this financial commitment advances the "ongoing companywide mission to
ensure a pipeline of diverse talent needed for [Northrop Grumman's] future
workforce." Over the last few years, this major defense contractor provided
significant financial support to CyberPatriot, a middle and high school
cybersecurity competition, to spark student interest in the field. Northrop
Grumman also gifted $135,000 to a Los Angeles charter school operator to
build a Northrop Grumman Innovation Lab "where students research, design,
simulate, and test their real-world projects in a state-of-the-art
multimedia center." This lab mimics the Northrop Grumman workplace,
fostering the skills necessary to succeed within the company. Northrop
Grumman also welcomes schools, including Milton, for tours of its
Cybersecurity Operations Center (CSOC) in Maryland and its Center for
Innovative Solutions in Virginia. Milton reported that on a field trip to
the CSOC, students learned how to "prevent, detect, identify, contain,
triage, and eradicate cyber threats that occur daily . . . by individuals
and national actors including Russia, Iran, Israel, India, Cuba, South
Korea, North Korea, and France."
To supplement these and other programs, Northrop Grumman employees regularly
visit schools across the nation. Milton tenth grader Tyrell explained that
in his old neighborhood in another school district, Northrop Grumman
engineers visited his elementary school once a year to discuss their work.
Tyrell credited his desire to "get into engineering and work at Northrop
Grumman" to these early experiences. Given these Northrop Grumman
presentations, Tyrell explained that "it always seemed fun to be able to
help build the aircrafts and stuff that the military uses and do other
things like that." Northrop Grumman's continued presence in Tyrell's school
life shaped his career aspirations. Northrop Grumman commits resources and
expertise to preparing a "pipeline" of skilled workers for its labor force.
Northrop Grumman's multi-million-dollar investment in education and the
increasing number of schools with formalized Homeland Security programs
indicate that Milton was hardly unique. In fact, Milton seemed to point to a
growing trend in public schooling. Over the last decade, the September 11
attacks (re)intensified U.S. practices of security, defense, and protection
through increased militarization, surveillance, indefinite detention, and
zero-tolerance policing in its domestic and foreign engagements. The
creation of several high school Homeland Security programs seemed to signal
that this amplified focus on national security also informed U.S. school
reform projects and, perhaps, everyday life in schools.
Excerpt is reproduced by permission of the University of Minnesota Press
from the Introduction to A Curriculum of Fear: Homeland Security in U.S.
Public Schools by Nicole Nguyen. Copyright 2016 by the Regents of the
University of Minnesota. All rights reserved.
Nicole Nguyen is assistant professor of social foundations of education at
the University of Illinois-Chicago.
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