Original Sins: The (Mis)education of Black and Native Children and the Construction of American Racism

by Eve L. Ewing

Why don’t our schools work? Eve L. Ewing tackles this question from a new angle: What if they’re actually doing what they were built to do? She argues that instead of being the great equalizer, America’s classrooms were designed to do the opposite: to maintain the nation’s inequalities. It’s a task at which they excel.

If all children could just get an education, the logic goes, they would have the same opportunities later in life. But this historical tour de force makes it clear that the opposite is true: The U.S. school system has played an instrumental role in creating and upholding racial hierarchies, preparing children to expect unequal treatment throughout their lives.

In Original Sins, Ewing demonstrates that our schools were designed to propagate the idea of white intellectual superiority, to “civilize” Native students and to prepare Black students for menial labor. Education was not an afterthought for the Founding Fathers; it was envisioned by Thomas Jefferson as an institution that would fortify the country’s racial hierarchy. Ewing argues that these dynamics persist in a curriculum that continues to minimize the horrors of American history. The most insidious aspects of this system fall below the radar in the forms of standardized testing, academic tracking, disciplinary policies, and uneven access to resources.

By demonstrating that it’s in the DNA of American schools to serve as an effective and underacknowledged mechanism maintaining inequality in this country today, Ewing makes the case that we need a profound reevaluation of what schools are supposed to do, and for whom. This book will change the way people understand the place we send our children for eight hours a day.

Genres: Nonfiction, History, Education, Race, Politics, Social Justice, Audiobook

616 pages, Kindle Edition

First published February 11, 2025

About the author

Dr. Eve Louise Ewing is a writer and a sociologist of education from Chicago. Ewing is a prolific writer across multiple genres. Her 2018 book Ghosts in the Schoolyard: Racism & School Closings on Chicago's South Side explores the relationship between the closing of public schools and the structural history of race and racism in Chicago's Bronzeville community.

Ewing's first collection of poetry, essays, and visual art, Electric Arches, was published by Haymarket Books in 2017. Her second collection, 1919, tells the story of the race riot that rocked Chicago in the summer of that year. Her first book for elementary readers, Maya and the Robot, is forthcoming in 2020 from Kokila, an imprint of Penguin Random House.

Her work has been published in many venues, including The New Yorker, The New York Times, The Atlantic, The Nation, The Washington Post, The New Republic, Poetry Magazine, and the anthology American Journal: Fifty Poems for Our Time, curated by Tracy K. Smith, Poet Laureate of the United States. With Nate Marshall, she co-wrote the play No Blue Memories: The Life of Gwendolyn Brooks, produced by Manual Cinema and commissioned by the Poetry Foundation. She also currently writes the Champions series for Marvel Comics and previously wrote the acclaimed Ironheart series, as well as other projects.

Reviews

[Dave Schaafsma · Rating 4 out of 5]

I hereby repost this review of a book just out, as DEI is condemned by the present administration and Civil Rights offices are closed. The gutting of the Department of Education that is seen as too woke and negative about white supremacy. All aspects of government seen as "racist" because it focuses on race? On equity? Because a"free market" approach to morality will just work things out? Or is it "replacement theory" fears? Get all the people of color to leave the country? Universities condemned for researching equity issues? All this is nothing new (see this book). We are not living in a post-racist society, obviously.

I went to a book publication roll-out for Chicago's own Eve Ewing's Original Sins, and the grimness of the message was countered in some ways by her personal energy, enthusiasm, political commitment and humor. The book is relatively short, weaving two strands of American racist shame together but it then situating the history of racism within the context of schooling that played an important and ugly role in the creation of a racist American society. So, timely, need I say. And yes, pertaining to that DEI issue that Amazon/Goodreads will have to deal with: Will Jeff Bezos have to put an end to the reviewing of DEI -related books? And if so, where would you start? This book, obviously, will be one of the first to be thrown on the white supremacist fire. When someone asked what we should do with her book she said read it, rededicate yourself to antiracist principles, pass it on and/or throw it at a fascist!

Ewing is a kind of literary force in the present moment, in my estimation. She wrote Ghosts in the Schoolyard about the closing of dozens of Chicago schools in poor neighborhoods. She wrote 1919 (poetry in part based on the mostly forgotten race riots of 1919 in Chicago), middle grades fiction, and she's writing comics series for Marvel! A former Chicago elementary school teacher, she (for Chicagoans) graduated from Northside College Prep, U of Chicago, and grad school at Harvard. She's a Sociologist of Education at the (typically conservative) U of Chicago.

She warns that the book is primarily descriptive and not prescriptive, which is to say it goes over a lot of well-known ground of racist history, though maybe some readers will not know the central role schools have played in that history. She frames her view of school in part by using Foucault's Discipline and Punish to show how blacks and Native Americans have historically been silenced by and otherwise disciplined by schools.

She cites David Stovall's article (I'll get the citation soon) favoring the "abolition" of schools as we know them to help us create a different society. Anarchist principles for breaking down the traditional structures of schooling.

Ewing dedicates her book to all her great teachers who didn't silence her, and to all the great teachers she knows, has worked with, and whom she knows will read her book. She knows there are today many many great teachers, and many great schools. When she was in school she always was respected as someone who could contribute to discussions. She was not silenced.

This book, while not (to me) breaking particularly new ground, is a good source of information linking schooling to racist societal practices. Some readers (I hope) will be shocked by some of her information, if they had not heard it bwefore. And it is really well-written and engaging, as grim as it is, written for a popular audience, primarily for teachers and administrators, and maybe parents, I think, but after all the horrors it ends hopefully with a discussion of "braiding" (sweetgrass, Indigenous hair braids) as a metaphor for moving forward together. She's not very specific about what we can do to change our approach to a new foundation for schooling beyond creating (Nel Noddings's) "ethic of care" in schools, but this book--just published last week, early February--will be an "it" book here in Chicago, for sure, and maybe nationally. I read it with my grad class (of teachers) who also attended the book event at UIC.

One thing I appreciated as the book moves along is that she talks more and more (as Dr King did, later, too) about the destructive forces of capitalism that in part depend on racist practices--if you were a person of color you had to move to limited areas--reservations, "ghettoes," destroying the cultures of Native Americans and blacks and others--Asians, Mexican-Americans--in different ways to move on its (white) goals--as one central structure in the process of building the US.

[Nathan Shuherk · Rating 5 out of 5]

I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the class, but freshman year of college there was like an “important things people need to think about” class where we read about technology, ethics, education, etc - basically an “education for every student 101” course. Regardless, reading this feels like maybe one of the most essential books for that type of thing. This book is fairly foundational, and it’s important for people to know this history and how it lays (has laid) the foundations of our world

[Traci Thomas · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an extremely impressive work of history and cultural studies. The book is well organized and packs in a lot of information in just under 300 page (the other 100 pages are notes/bibliography). While the book is dense (so much history in here) the skill of the writing and structure help the reader stay focused and rooted in the narrative Ewing puts forth. This isn't a book to speed through but to study and reflect on. This is for parents, teachers, students, and anyone who cares about education and racism.

[Hannah · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think you’ll either need to take your time with this one and digest it in small bites, or you’ll need to power through this one, which is what I did, because it’s a very emotionally difficult book to read. Regardless of your race or your experience with racism or how antiracist you are, this book is going to challenge you because the racism and white supremacy is explicit. Even if you’ve been on the receiving end of what’s discussed or have read a thousand books, if you have even a third of a heart and a quarter of a conscience, I’m sure this book will call your soul.

The book goes into great detail of the violence and the inequities the Indigenous and Black populations have had to deal with since Columbus. It starts with how Thomas Jefferson intentionally designed our school systems to force assimilation of the Indigenous and to keep widening the wealth gap between whites who have benefited from intergenerational wealth at the expense of Native lands and Native and Black bodies and blood.

Ewing goes into the systemic and very intentional biases that are built into how we teach, test, and reward/punish students. Ewing doesn’t shy away from the violent and callous Indian boarding schools that essentially kidnapped school aged Indigenous children, often sexually assaulted and/or raped then, humiliated them continuously, and did all it could to eradicate the Indigenous languages and cultures.

Ewing also talks about how schooling targets Black students to shovel them into the school-to-prison pipeline. Much like Black men were arrested for standing on corners and not addressing whites as “Sir,” and other nonsensical infractions in order to fill the convict leasing system Black children are being punished in schools for equally worthless social breaches for the purpose of breaking their spirits and confidence, which in turn decreases the likelihood of their academic success, leading to their being accustomed to confinement and control.

Both with the Indian boarding schools and modern education systems, the point is to make sure they know “their place,” which is far, far down the social and wealth hierarchy. And there are a lot of policies and practices in place to make sure they do (e.g., serving in the military but being told they don’t qualify for GI benefits, assuming that tests where Black students perform well must’ve been too easy and then raising the scoring criteria to make sure they can’t achieve, etc. - much of which sounds familiar in terms of voting suppression shenanigans too).

I’d done a lot of “homework” before even opening this book. Aside from having read many antiracist books, as well as Black and Indigenous history books, I also help lead a weekly antiracist conversation at work, actively promote DEI across the Americas (also at work), and do my share of protesting and activism. Still, this book felt like a punch in the gut with how atrociously racism and classism have been institutionalized (you can assume sexism and heterotypical prejudice are also built in and are equally heinous and getting worse by the day).

While I’d opened the book with a lot of knowledge that’s been backed up by the relationships I have with my friends and colleagues, the way Ewing put it together is a fresh perspective, albeit difficult to read. When I see Governors Abbott and DeSantis (and others) doing whatever they can to bring back segregated schools for the purpose of bifurcating “good” education from “bad,” I see everything Ewing described in action. Of course they also make voting as difficult as possible in order to continue exerting force between the haves and the have nots, mostly along racial profiles.

Strongly recommend this book to those who are curious about systemic exclusion, especially those who disagree that it exists. I’d love to have a conversation afterward to understand why you think the contents of this book are inadequate in possibly opening your minds. I’m always open to being convinced I’m wrong or at least seeing something from another perspective, so long as it can be backed up.

[Antonia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Everything I hoped it would be. Highly recommend for anyone sharing space with children in any way. But even if you aren’t around children, I’d recommend it for your own learning.

[Brian Shevory · Rating 5 out of 5]

“The concept that schools are complicit in the maintenance of a bad thing is contrary to the most basic idea that supposedly animates education in the United States. We are told that schools are supposed to be places that inculcate fairness, where our life outcomes are tied to our individual efforts. But, on the contrary, schools have been shaped by the same ideas that drove European colonists to stake property claims on faraway Indigenous lands and the ideas that shaped the formation of the Middle Passage. These original sins did not take place in a discrete moment of time; they linger, they fester, they grow and morph and change. They persist and persist and persist. They shape the tenor of our public discourse, the architecture of our buildings and towns and neighborhoods, the stories we are told, and the schools to which we send our children.”

Big thanks to Random House Publishers and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Eve Ewing’s incredible and necessary book Original Sins: The (Mis)education of Black and Native Children and the Construction of American Racism. I’ve had Ewing’s other book about school closings in Chicago on my to-read list for a long time, so I was really glad to be able to read this book prior to publication. Ewing’s book is brimming with ideas and insights about education in America—some of them are new, many of them are challenging, while others take some previous concepts and thinking about the purpose of American schools and challenge them to view schooling and education from a colonial perspective, with a particular emphasis on eliminating the culture of Native and Black children and families. That is, education is used as a technology to “civilize” non-white minorities, but with the further intent on capitalizing (or making money) on their land and bodies. Ewing’s thesis is based on extensive history, finding examples and citing them through footnotes. As an educator, I was familiar with some of the arguments Ewing makes about the purpose of school. Is our educational system a ways to socialize new immigrants and have them assimilate into white, European behaviors and ideas? Are our schools merely factories that replicate the work expectations of 20th century industrial America? Do schools merely reproduce inequality and social capital, providing advantages to those families with greater social capital? However, what is novel about Ewing’s perspective is how schooling is tied into the kind of colonial capitalism that was furthered by land displacement in the 18th and 19th centuries and slavery, both original sins of America. She argues that rather than thinking of American education as the great equalizer that provides opportunities for upliftment, schools are a site of replication of a the inequalities and used a technology to control (or “civilize”) Native and Black children. Thus, it’s probably safe to say that this book will not be a part of Moms for Liberty’s book club, nor will Florida makes this required reading for incoming teachers, which is really a shame because Ewing’s arguments and critiques come at an important time for education and teachers in general. As she documents from her own experiences as science teacher in Chicago, sometimes teachers with good intentions often further the kinds of inequalities or messages about control and inadequacy that has been a part of most American education since its start.
Although Ewing’s book is replete with scholarly sources and research, she also makes it accessible by looking for modern equivalents and making the examples and ideas relevant to today’s teachers. I also appreciated her historical perspective that moves in a chronological timeline, but also tackles issues in education from the different, yet related experiences of Native and Black students. Her chapters start with the founding of America, and how historical figures like Thomas Jefferson promoted ideas about racial inferiority to develop and maintain the system of chattel slavery. Furthermore by promoting an exclusive idea of education that focused primarily on classical education, mathematics, and history, American schools also became sites of exclusivity and elitism, where education was mainly offered to rich, white families, and the occasional top white student from a regional area. I really appreciated learning more about the evolution of American education, and in particular the views and ideas that Jefferson promoted. Furthermore Ewing notes how Indian boarding schools developed, mainly from a prison in Florida that relocated some Indigenous People who rebelled against their forced relocation. This was interesting to me because I just read about Fort Marion in Tommy Orange’s book Wandering Stars. As Ewing notes, the attempts to “civilize” Indigenous People began in a prison where the philosophy was “kill the Indian, save the man”, as well as other sentiments like “The only good Indian is a dead Indian.” American schools have continued to perpetuate this ideas in various ways, both intentionally and unintentionally. Ewing’s organization, moving from the history of slavery and dispossession to the segregated schools and Indian boarding schools, eventually leads to modern applications of control and attempts to “civilize” through education. As someone who has worked in education for my entire career, I’m familiar with some of the attempts to “control” that Ewing describes in her chapters about school. She recounts a personal experience about her school’s attempts to “scare students straight” by taking a field trip to the local jail, not considering the experiences of students whose parents and relatives have been incarcerated. Whether justly or not, this kind of experience, confronting the loss of a family member, is sure to hit students hard, especially those who might not have the emotional vocabulary to grapple with this kind of loss and confrontation. I know that my former students who had relatives who were incarcerated didn’t really talk about it, and often struggled to really articulate their feelings, which were most likely complicated and deep. I also didn’t know much of what to say, not always aware of their experiences. Nevertheless, Ewing’s alternative field trip to view a documentary provided a better alternative for her students, and one that didn’t necessarily come with a emotional toll. She also explores the school to prison pipeline, noting how this unjust phenomenon has become more and more a part of the discourse on education of minority students, especially as we learn how they are more likely to face time out of school due to suspensions and other disciplinary actions that white students typically do not face at similar rates. As I read these sections, I was reminded of Monique Morris’s excellent and important book Pushout that examines the unfair treatment of Black girls in schools. Ewing explores similar injustices and biases in schools, especially how Black children often face adultification, where whites typically view behaviors and actions of Black children as older. These kinds of biases lead to different treatment, not only in schools, but also in the justice system. I was unfamiliar with this term, but I can see how it happens in many schools, and how it leads to a lack of second chances or opportunities when Black children make mistakes. Ewing also explores how often programs and teaching methods are implemented for Black children that do not allow for any kind of autonomy or free expression. Rather, methods like SLANT (sit up, listen/lean forward, ask questions, nod your head, track the speaker) are reinforced in many schools to promote an attention control for many minority students. I was so glad to see pushback on Doug Lemov’s Teach Like a Champion, which was a popular book at a school where I taught. While there are some useful strategies and suggestions, much of the book operates on a deficit approach of students, assuming that they lack any kind of willingness or initiative to learn, and as a result, they need to be trained to follow these behavioristic methods. Ewing’s critique was validation of those who believe that all students have the right to autonomy and how important that kind of autonomy and creativity will be in their future careers. Even though this critique was brief and succinct, I really appreciated reading it.
Other instances of control focused on more choices of personal expression, especially around important characteristics like hair, where I feel like there is always a story about a student being forced to cut their locks or afro. As Ewing noted in earlier chapters, this was often one of the first steps taken at Indian boarding schools, where children were shorn like animals, with little regard for the cultural significance of their hair or for their own feelings or personal autonomy. Ewing references Foucault’s theory of discipline and punishment to explore how the control of the body seeks to also alter the soul. As sad as it is, I agree with her analysis in many of the instances of school where the emphasis is on discipline and “no excuses” that largely seek to control behavior or shape behavior into what is the expected learning standards, at least from a white perspective. There’s no real consideration for learning styles that might vary or be different, that emphasize a sense of the collective group as opposed to individual responses. While there have been some shifts away from these no excuse schools and incorporation of more culturally relevant pedagogy, that need to control students’ bodies still exists and plays a significant role in shaping their education.
The conclusion of the book presents some ways to move forward and heal, presenting ideas of solidarity and acknowledgement of the hurt and harm both Native and Black people have endured and possibly inflicted upon one another. I loved this section, as Ewing presents a theory of not only unity, but also resilience. She also affirms the idea of thriving and how building on that kind of solidarity helps to facilitate thriving, rather than looking at blame or victimhood as a kind of zero sum game. In particular, she emphasizes an ethic of care, which I have always tried to make a part of my pedagogy. I loved that she brings this idea to addressing the kind of injustices that Native and Black students have faced in order to move forward and thrive. She couples this ethic of care with the collective struggle, in that we work together towards a common end, recognizing our similarities over our differences. Again, I loved this idea, and I think it is important to look towards commonalities as opposed to differences. Ewing’s ideas reminded me of the kind of collective struggle that the Brazilian educator Paulo Freire advocated when he likened education to a road that we make by walking. The idea was that our experience and knowledge help to create the path, and that we collective make our way on a shared journey. This is really important because it seems like education is too often viewed as a precious commodity or a finite resource, allowing others with the means to take more than is needed. It’s important to recognize that education is a right, and that all people should have this right. In other sections, Ewing’s ideas about the kind of revolutionary changes needed for school reminded me of Davidson’s ideas about institutional unlearning, even making the case for abolishing school in order to create a new educational institution that meets the needs of all learners and operates under more fair and just precepts. Ewing’s final metaphor is to liken teaching and learning to braiding, which is an important practice to both Native and Black cultures. Furthermore, the idea of braiding is seen as a kind of communal act that brings us together, strengthening our bonds. I thought that this was such a great metaphor or symbol to use. I kept thinking about a recent visit to the Polynesian Cultural Center in Hawaii where we learned about the different cultures of the islands in Polynesia. In Tahiti, we learned about braiding grass fronds, and my kids were so interested in the process. It seemed so natural and common to the Tahitians working there, but it took us some time to learn the process of hooking the two pieces together to create a kind of strong bond. Ewing uses a great quote from Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass, which is the third time I’ve come across this book in the past 2 months. I can see how Kimmerer’s idea of braiding, not just the product, but the process and the community involved, would be a great way to consider teaching and learning, and how these two ends can be tied closer together when we focus more on commonalities and communities. Eve Ewing’s book Original Sins is a very important book that is necessary for new teachers to read, but also important for others involved in caring and education, especially parents and other stewards of communities. She not only raises awareness about the unjust history of how capitalism stole bodies and land, and how schools and education were complicit in furthering this kind of theft, but she also explores how current practices in schools have been influenced by these injustices. This book is rich with details and explores research and ideas from Native and Black scholars, adding an integral perspective that is not always given the kind of amplification it needs. I loved how Ewing challenges popular perceptions of schools as the great equalizer, bringing history, statistics, and anecdotes to challenge this myth of meritocracy, and to share how not everyone shares the same kind of educational experiences. I highly recommend this book as an important text for anyone involved in education or community work.

[A · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was pretty excited to see that this book coming out after really enjoying Ghosts in the Schoolyard and following Ewing's work loosely. In Original Sins, Ewing tackles the hefty question of how schools came to be and how the US has come to miseducate specifically Black and Native children with the original sins being chattel slavery of Africans and the genocide of indigenous peoples on Turtle Island. She describes how the purpose of schools for white students is to provide unified leadership for a unified nation. On the other hand, for Black students schools have been aimed at creating a class of subservient laborers. And for Native students, schools have been designed to normalize total disappearance.

Quote that I think sums up the premise of this book well:
“In the United States, part of being “civilized” means that you should crave infinite accumulation. People in power in the United States have castigated Black and Native people historically for not wanting money badly enough, while in the present the very system that is supposed to promise equity of access—schooling—has done little to redress the wealth gaps that make it hard for folks to just cover their basic necessities.”

She argues that there are three pillars of American racism that are cultivated in our institutions of schooling:

1. Intellectual inferiority (which is predicated on the assumption that only White people’s knowledge counts as knowledge at all)
2. Discipline and punishment
3. Economic subjugation

I found the most interesting piece to be Ewing's recounting of Native American education history as it was something I hadn't clearly delineated before. She explains clearly that the US only wanted to educate Native students because they realized it was cheaper than going to war against them (it was easier to subjugate them in the schools). I also found the pieces tying the current school system and its similarities to the prison system to be particularly interesting and I wish she had elaborated on this more.

Although I understand her focus on Native and Black students specifically, one critique or resounding question I am left with is how Asian and/or Latine students fit into this narrative. I think as a multiracial society with more than the three major racial groups that were tackled in this book, it's hard to see these issues in a silo. I would be interested to see Ewing's analysis on the other groups and how the model minority myth fits into this narrative.

[⋆˚୨୧⊹♡Rissa♡ (sparklylibros)]

when i was in high school i went to a predominatly all white school in the country. i would say 70% white 25% hispanic and 5% black.

one day, before a major state exam the principle called us into the lunchroom (we didn't even have an auditorium) and said "we know all the white kids will do well, this isnt for y'all. so just make us proud. now to the mexicans, if you want soccer next year you better pass."

i will never forget the anger i felt towards the educators that day and it is something that 15 years later i still think about. why were we already presumed to fail? why did they not have faith in us, even though we received the same education?

i haven't read this book yet, but systemic racism is REAL. adding this high on my TBR.

[Marcus (Lit_Laugh_Luv)]

I need to read more non-fiction!!!

[k-os]

As the 🍎 on the cover suggests, this country is ROTTEN TO THE CORE!! Accumulation of facts and scholarship nauseating, even if fundamental ideas familiar. Despite her intention to do otherwise, I do wish the conclusion had been more specific/prescriptive. I respect Ewing so much that I’m like, no but really what do we do next, plz tell me!!

[Ron · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a biracial kid, I noticed race at an early age. I learned about segregated schools, but I never thought of how in depth racial issues are in school that are meant to divide students. This book was excellent and one that needs to be discussed more. While it focused on Black and Native American students, I'd be curious as to this author and a more in depth analysis when it comes to other minorities that are left out of the conversation (particularly Hispanic/Latino students/communities). This book was hard to get through given the content matter, but all the more reason why a book like this is important for educators and the general public. I was very impressed with it overall and it went beyond my expectations.

[Elizabeth☮ · Rating 4 out of 5]

I listened to a podcast with Ewing discussing her book (listen here: https://www.thestackspodcast.com/2025...).

I kept picking this one up and reading a few pages and then reading something else. It's summer and this felt too much to read when I just got out of school. But I found myself abandoning my other books to dive deeper into this one. I learned so much. This book is well sourced, so there are plenty of other articles and books to read in this wheelhouse.

As an educator, I try to learn what I didn't learn in school - kindergarten and beyond. I also like to check my biases. I am Latina and I teach primarily Latino students, but I still have biases. I also find myself defending the parents of my students and the students themselves. There are many people in education that have a real disdain for the kids they teach.

What Ewing does here is go through the horrible foundations of education and how the systems in place don't really set minority students up for success. Case in point: standardized testing. The creator of the SAT (Carl Brigham) was a eugenicist and was anti-immigration. Decades later, Brigham admitted the test is flawed and he hoped people didn't use it to determine intelligence. Too late! There is a section all about standardized testing and intelligence tests and the fact that they are biased towards a white Eurocentric idea of intelligence. There are other forms of intelligence in different cultures, but there is a wider culture of intelligence that values hard work, academic success and capitalism - that is only recognized in America and everyone must conform to it.

There are the horrible monetary battles, particularly with Native populations, that are ongoing. The first university in America was built on money made from exploiting Native people and not allowing them access to the wealth land ownership can provide. There are many universities that have used money gained from the riches, such as oil, provided by these lands and, rather than pay out to the people whose land has been stolen, have used this money as a slush fund. Native people are minimally represented in these very universities and are stuck in a cycle of poverty that is not of their own creation. There are so many laws set up against them and there is the stereotype of them as savages needing to be Americanized; too dumb to handle their own money; the infantilization of an entire group of people.

I marked up a ton of quotes that I don't have access to right now. This may not be for everyone, but I think in order to fix the ills of a system, we have to be honest about who is and who is not recognized. This helped me see another part of the story.

[Glenda Nelms · Rating 4 out of 5]

Original sins by Eve Ewing is interesting and intriguing. Black and Indigenous children and their families deserve better. Ewing's book is about all the race-centered foundations and practices of American school systems. It's a look on How our school systems that are rooted in racism.

[Samantha · Rating 5 out of 5]

Eve Ewing is a master and a scholar whose work I've followed for a long time, and as someone with non-white kids in the public school system...no, really everyone should read this, because schools play a large part in upholding the white supremacy that rules this nation.

In order to understand this more broadly, we have to consider the purpose of schools. Not the propaganda purpose, the actual purpose, and in doing so we must realize that purpose is different for marginalized people. For white students, it's to educate them on the principles of good citizenship and upholding a unified nation. For Black students, it's the process of civilization through control. For Native students, it's erasing them and their culture altogether. Ewing makes clear how important it is to understand this as the overall goal of public schools and traces the history of schooling back to Thomas Jefferson promoting the idea of racial inferiority to uphold slavery.

Worth pointing out that the nature of the word "civilization" is not always positive, that it is often used in an imperialist framework. While much of this book isn't groundbreaking information for anyone who's paying attention to public education, Ewing's clarification of things like this helped me reframe even just my understanding of the language we use around colonization, which is absolutely what happens to Black and Native students in schools. Whether it's small things like requirements to dress a certain way or recite the Pledge of Allegiance, or more severe methods like discipline, the aim is to control and/or disappear these groups on the margins.

I liked Ewing's breakdown into three categories of racism used to control/disappear Black and Native students. She discusses intellectual inferiority, which is largely tied up in standardized testing and biases that allow "white knowledge" to prevail over anything else (historically, elitism was promoted in education through more classical learning that created an exclusivity to education access). Any kind of Native wisdom is perceived as inferior, enabling Native people themselves to be viewed as inherently less intellectual than whites.

Then there is punishment and discipline, which for Black people is heavily tied to the U.S. for-profit carceral system. But before Black kids even get there, they experience discipline in school at a disproportionate rate to their white counterparts - more, sometimes harsher punishments, and racist bias that views them as more adultlike than their white peers (it doesn't help, of course, that the majority of teachers in the U.S. are white women who will always and forever do practically anything to uphold white supremacy; there are statistics that show Black students are punished less when there are more Black educators in the school). Ewing also goes quite a bit into the history of Native boarding schools and atrocities committed there that we are still uncovering today.

The third facet of racism is economic subjugation, the whole "somebody's gotta mow the lawns" argument. This prejudice, as with the others, carries over into post-schooling, where Black and Native people are discriminated against in job interviews, applications for housing, and any other area of life impacted by economic factors. In schools, that can look like being shut out of gifted and talented programs because of your skin color (in many schools, the enrollment in these programs are statistically very white). There is still, I think, a very mainstream viewpoint that some people just deserve to be poor (never mind the fact that capitalism needs poverty in order to survive), and racism contributes to *who* we decide should be more economically disadvantaged.

In books like this, many read to the end looking for solutions, and Ewing admits the best she can do is to offer vague suggestions. I appreciate her highlighting the abolitionist framework that insists on the destruction of the current system for not serving Black, Native, and brown students. Ewing also stresses a more communal and fluid learning process, or schools on the run. It is a massive issue to tackle and one that is currently working exactly as it was designed to work, so it's understandable that solutions won't be easy. But...maybe they're obvious.

[Leslie · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5⭐️s

[Carol Tilley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Stellar!

[Jessica - How Jessica Reads · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gutwrenching and convincing. As someone who largely grew up in the southwest (and who didn’t have to contend with the legacy of Jim Crow) — it’s eye-opening to compare the legacy of the forced schooling of Native Americans. We drove past the Indian School Rd exit in Phoenix today as I was listening, and it hit home extra hard.

If you’re a teacher, I EXTRA recommend this — especially if you work with Black or Indigenous students.

[Megan Sanks]

An important but tough read. I was visibly grimacing for like half of the audiobook.

[K.T. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ewing’s most impressive work to date. Published this year and it’s like she could see the shitstorm on the horizon when writing this. While it’s a work about the history of racism in education, the applicability is much wider. Transforming schools is part of the broader work of transforming society and addressing white supremacy at large. A call to action for building institutions that include us all.
“When we throw our hands up and pronounce that we’re doomed—we abdicate our responsibility to those who come after us, to those who will look to us as ancestors. Further, we disrespect the struggle of those who came before us, who fought and laughed and wrote and built things—not because they believed they would win every battle in their lifetimes, but because they saw it as essential for us.” 250

[audrey]

Really really a feat of research and Ewing is so skilled in the way that this is SO easy to read and doesn’t feel at all dense but it is packed with information. A beautiful ending with hope packed in after all the horror you read about. Really glad I got to this after reading Wandering Stars and watching Nickel Boys earlier this year.

[Lindsey Bluher · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75, rounded up for GR! Full review to come.

[abby · Rating 5 out of 5]

Completely reframed and reshaped my approach to the upcoming school year. A book I’ll be thinking about for a long time.

[giovi · Rating 5 out of 5]

What if we had a more expansive notion of the miracles of human creativity and cognition, one that wasn't poisoned by the fetid waters of White supremacy?

[brianna maphis · Rating 5 out of 5]

this is one of those books that feels like it should be required reading for every single american. so much of this book is absolutely appalling but so important to learn about.

[Morgan Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

This should be required reading. I definitely recommend getting a physical copy, as I listened to the audio and wished I could underline and revisit many passages over and over!

[Eva · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is not an easy read. By not easy, I mean the author loves to use big words and long sentences... Which I found strange since using more grandiose words can make a narrative like this less accessible. Regardless, I was able to finish the book. It just felt so long. There were also a lot of points that were repetitive and therefore, I thought the book could have been shorter/condensed.

Content-wise, the book had good points and teachings. I came out with more knowledge than I entered.

My favorite quotes:
"We were becoming Americans by learning how to be ashamed of our parents."

"The flag has as great a potency to Americanize the alien child as it has to lead regiments to death."

"Resurgences of biological determinism correlate with episodes of political retrenchment, particularly with campaigns for reduced government spending on social programs, or at times of fear among ruling elites... Why struggle and spend to raise the unboostable IQ of races or social classes at the bottom of the economic ladder?"

"And that which is taboo, desired and unspoken, makes money... Claiming that White people might just inherently be smarter turns out to be a great way to sell books."

"The Protestant work ethic and the spirit of capitalism require(d) one to work not for subsistence, but for accumulation... The notion of 'wellness' has superficially seemed to challenge this idea, urging notions of 'rest' and 'self-care'... But throughout history, Black and Native people's desire to rest, to work as a means of feeding themselves and their families rather than to endlessly accumulate, has been seen as a marker of their racial inferiority."

[Jordi Parry · Rating 5 out of 5]

Essential.

[Lauren · Rating 5 out of 5]

very informative. the way abolitionists used and weaponized respectability politics is disgusting (and further proves to me that white people have always made it the responsibility of the Black community to prove that they deserve equal rights). no one needs to prove anything to white people. antiblackness plagues everything in us history, and the same antiblack talking points have been used for literally hundreds of years. anti Native sentiment is rooted in extermination, which also shows up in their schooling. native children were forced to assimilate to allow for cultural erasure, following the literal genocide of native peoples.

white saviorism is inherently violent. it always has been. it's about maintaining power and stripping it from nonwhite people. how can white people claim other cultures to be savage, when they literally enslave and genocide them?

i also appreciated that the author mentioned the jail field trip; this put into words why shows like beyond scared straight made me so uncomfortable. why are we purposely endangering children, even "bad" children, and letting grown adults use rape threats on them to keep them in line? instead of trying to scare a child into doing the "right thing", show them why they should want to make that choice.

schools and universities are built on slavery and Native genocide, with the area stolen from the original stewards of the land and the buildings built and maintained by enslaved people. as Ewing so succinctly mentions, "today, descendants of [slaves] are some of the least likely to benefit from the assent of these institutions, even as others have built a path to institutional prosperity on the foundations of their flayed backs." the point that capitalism is also inherently racialized, due to how capitalists made their wealth, is extremely important to understand. having money and accruing capital is seen as virtuous in our society, and the structural blocks made to keep nonwhite people poor are used to ensure that Black and Indigenous people are seen as deficient.

i wish the fact that people who are objectively evil cry praise for capitalism would prove to more people that capitalism is evil. rest and so-called "self care" is only moral when it can be capitalized and when a white person does it; buying things to use to take care of oneself are acceptable, but people of color living a life that does not center accumulation of wealth are immoral, lazy, and, to many, undeserving of life. with schools not actually doing what they claim to (allowing for upward mobility in capitalism), marginalized groups are used as sources of extraction for white people to exploit. the capitalist individualism mindset is also used to oppress nonwhite people (along with other oppressed groups such as women, queer people, or people with disabilities). we are taught to value ourselves above others, and we cannot build community and work together to fight oppression if we're only concerned about ourselves. we need to care about other people.

the erasure, victim blaming, theft, genocide, enslavement, and overall violence that Black and Native communities have had to endure is horrific. i think everyone needs to read this, whether or not they're part of the Black or Indigenous communities. this is important to understand, particularly for white people that want to be allies to these communities. oppressed people understand some of this inherently just because it's their lived experience, but white people need to go out of our way to inform ourselves. intersectionality is crucial to the fight against oppression.

[Inez · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ewing offers an unflinching, but accessible text that outlines how schools have functioned, since the beginning of the United States, as sites of control, cultural and political assimilation, and oppression.

Ewing traces the history of schools as places of power from when Columbus first stepped foot onto indigenous territories, to the first residential schools, to the modern public school. An experienced educator herself, Ewing’s personal connection to her subject makes the text (that is filled with distressing statistics) approachable and invites the reader into this subject alongside her. It’s an easy read, but not an *easy* read, if you understand me.

Ewing does a phenomenal job of narrowing down to specific examples and case studies, keeping the reader engaged on a personal and individual level, yet also continually reminding us that the problems she is outlining are systemic, built into the very foundations (literally, SCHOOLED into us) of the U.S. In order to combat them, we can’t just focus on a school curriculum, or even just on schools themselves, we have to broaden our lens and reevaluate the systems and structures of the society that our children (and we) currently move through.

"As part of Jefferson’s doctrine of discovery, when children enter school, their minds are seen as new lands to be shaped according to the social, cultural, and political conventions of their teachers, without any acknowledgment of the funds of knowledge they enter with or the recognition of the value and beauty of that prior knowledge. Intelligence testing as part of the gospel of intellectual inferiority, therefore, is devastating, not only because it reinforces the idea that we are stupid. Moreover, it does by relying on a violent system of knowledge that requires the irradiation of all other forms of wisdom and creativity. Epistemology points to the ways that power relations shape who is believed and why. Epistemology, therefore, is far from an arcane academic concept. It makes up our daily understanding of what is knowable, how we know it, and what kinds of bodies can be considered sources of credible knowledge. Indeed, of “intelligence.”

“I think, hope, and pray, that a lot of teachers and principles may read this book and think, “oh! There is so much I have to do to change things at my school.” That would be lovely. But what I also hope you realize at this point, is that the things that happen in schools are a broader reflection of the society we have *all* committed to making and participating in, and therefore it’s incumbent upon all of us to think about how to change it from where ever we sit. If we take schools as one of the many organs of the state’s anatomy, the cellular wall that separate it from the jailhouse and the social services bunker, the military bunker and the hospital war, becomes more porous, leaving us with far fewer problems that can be solved by students and teachers."

[Laura Hoffman Brauman · Rating 4 out of 5]

In theory, education is supposed to be "the great equalizer". When you look back at education in the US historically, the goal of education has been different for different groups - for some a leg up. for some to prepare for future education, for some to train for predetermined careers - like home economics for those expected to work in domestic fields, for some to separate the child from their culture, etc. In Original Sins. Ewing focuses primarily on the education of Black and Native children and how this both results from and perpetuates racism in the United States. It's a well written and research supported read that also is uncomfortable because it's not always easy to take an eyes wide open look at difficult moments in our history. To be clear, this is a commentary on the systems of education in the US across tome and not a criticism of the many teachers that are devoted to their students and work incredibly hard every day. It would be an important read anytime, but in a world where politicians are trying to make acknowledging the full scope of our history taboo and where speaking out about the realities of the impact of our history on our current situations is dismissed as anti-American, it is critical.