The American Civil War occupies a peculiar, significant (and unavoidable) place in the American imagination. For some it is a national tragedy, a source of division or even anxiety; others variously view it as a glorious episode in the march toward human equality. As a historian of the American military, and of the Civil War specifically, I often encounter a variety of students that other sub-disciplines seldom meet, and these students present unique challenges in the classroom or seminar. I find that college students drawn to the Civil War, particularly those who grew up in a South still, in some ways, haunted by the conflict, bring their own mental and emotional baggage to any conversation; that is to be expected, and even welcomed. And that baggage is continually freighted by cultural influences, for good or for ill.

And so, with apologies to Jason Phillips and his excellent article on the taxonomy of the common soldier, for my first post here I thought it would helpful to offer my own taxonomy of the Civil War student. And so here is my own simple “field guide” exploring some of the common types of  students that one might encounter when approaching the subject of the Civil War (or, for that matter, other historical subjects that tend to excite passionate popular interest).

First, there are the “enthusiasts”. These are the buffs who care more about how many buttons were on Stonewall Jackson’s frock coat at the Battle of Chancellorsville than about the course of emancipation, or the meaning of union, or the genesis and evolution of total war. These are the fans of drum and trumpet history who have little patience for anything other than Minié balls, generals, or campaigns. Enthusiasts bring, obviously, enthusiasm; they are also often vast repositories of esoterica, usually of small use in explorations of the larger questions and themes the instructor hopes to engage.

Next, the unwary history instructor might encounter the “partisans”. These are the Southern patriot warriors or neo-Lost Causers who insist on redefining the war as a mere constitutional debate over tariffs or federalism, or conversely, the Sherman and Grant disciples who, with unseemly glee, seem to delight in the punishment and destruction meted out on their cartoonish, Tarantinoesque version of Dixieland. Partisans are often also enthusiasts, but just as often their passion can blind them to alternative viewpoints and make them inflexibly ideological (or even hostile) in discussions. They care little for evidence or interpretation; they have already made their interpretations, and they are more than happy to tell you about them.

Finally, there are the “normals”; students who approach the war with few preconceptions, who are fascinated by the era, perhaps, but who have no ax to grind, but who are sometimes intimidated or turned off by the passionate displays of the first two types. Normals are usually students who make teaching a joyful experience, but they require care, attention, and constant vigilance, lest they run away in terror or disgust.

I realize that speaking in such broad generalities is fraught with peril (and is intended here as a tongue-in-cheek exercise), but I do think that we, as instructors of American history, will inevitably encounter one or more these “types” during our careers. History is a conversation, and we are not (nor should we be) strangers to controversy or passionate discussion in service to our larger mission as educators and scholars.

How, then, do we navigate the terrain of these, and other, student types? How do we reach the partisans and convince them to consider other perspectives that make them uncomfortable? How do we show enthusiasts that there are larger considerations than their own pet preoccupations? How do we demonstrate to normals that there is a place for them at the table?