Untangling the Lines of History: Expanding the Stories We Teach Our Children

Untangling the Lines of History: Expanding the Stories We Teach Our Children

In the grand tapestry of history, the stories we tell form a web of intersecting lines. Some of these lines are celebrated and pulled to the forefront, woven into the fabric of our collective memory. Others are buried and tangled in the background, their importance obscured by the prominence of a few. Cesar Chavez is one of those bright lines—a leader whose legacy shines through the history of labor movements in America. But the truth of the farm workers' struggle is a much more intricate, intersecting bundle of stories—stories that, when detangled, reveal a complex geometry of solidarity, community, and collective action.

In this tangle of history, other critical lines run alongside Chavez’s: Larry Itliong, a Filipino labor leader, and Cynthia Bonta, a community organizer. Their contributions, though less celebrated, are no less vital. To see only Chavez’s line is to miss a rich interweaving of many lives and struggles, to lose sight of the true complexity of social justice movements. When we confine our curriculum to a narrow band of stories, we deny students the opportunity to see how their own lines—personal histories, identities, and futures—are intertwined with others in the ongoing work of creating a just world.

The time has come to revisit this tangled web of stories in our curriculum. By pulling forward the often-overlooked lines of Itliong, Bonta, and others, we offer students not only a fuller picture of history but also the chance to see how their own stories cross and connect with those of others. Learning, after all, is about crossing those lines, understanding the angles at which they meet, and recognizing the powerful shapes they form together.

The Intersection of Lines: Solidarity in Action

In the Delano Grape Strike of 1965, two major lines converged: those of Filipino and Mexican-American workers. Led by Larry Itliong and Cesar Chavez respectively, these groups joined forces to demand better wages and working conditions, revealing the power of solidarity across cultural divides. Chavez’s line is well-known—his leadership, his marches, his speeches—but it did not stand alone. Itliong’s line, and the Filipino workers who started the strike, were the ones who first stepped off the fields, making them the catalysts for what became a turning point in labor history.

This was not merely a story of one group joining another; it was a geometric crossing, an alignment of struggles that, when joined, created something far greater than the sum of its parts. The strike was successful not because of one leader, but because of the convergence of many lines, each representing different histories of oppression, different communities, and different dreams of justice. Yet when we teach this history in classrooms today, the focus remains on Chavez, his line drawn in bold, while the Filipino contribution remains a faint stroke in the background.

To continue teaching the history of the farm workers’ movement without giving equal weight to Itliong, Bonta, and others is to ignore the richness of the lines that shaped it. It reduces the movement to a singular narrative when, in truth, it was the meeting and crossing of many different stories that made it powerful. Including these stories in our curriculum would allow students to see how solidarity is built—not through uniformity but through the delicate, intricate crossing of lines that appear separate but are deeply connected.

The Complexity of Tangled Stories

The problem with a narrow curriculum is that it simplifies history, drawing straight, uncomplicated lines that obscure the real, tangled nature of social movements. By focusing solely on the familiar narratives—those of individual heroes like Cesar Chavez—we erase the lines of countless others whose contributions were equally critical. In doing so, we offer a distorted view of how change happens.

But history is never linear. It is a knot of stories, each one winding through time, intersecting with others in unpredictable ways. Larry Itliong’s story is not merely an addition to Chavez’s; it is a line that crosses it, running parallel for a time before diverging and converging again. Cynthia Bonta’s line, representing her work as an organizer, runs through both, connecting grassroots activism with broader social movements. To teach only Chavez’s story is to ignore the geometry of these intersections—the way different experiences, identities, and struggles come together to form something far stronger than any one story alone.

As educators, we must encourage students to engage with the complexity of these tangled lines. The equityXdesign framework, which teaches us to “design at the margins,” reminds us that real learning happens when we engage with the stories that have been pushed to the edges​​. To truly understand the farm workers' movement—or any social movement—we must trace the lines that have been ignored, following them as they intersect with the dominant narratives to reveal the full shape of history.

Crossing Lines for Inclusion

In the classroom, the stories we teach are the lines that shape students’ understanding of themselves and the world. If those lines are too narrow, if they represent only a select few experiences, then many students will never see their own stories reflected in the broader narrative. This is not just a matter of historical accuracy; it is a moral imperative. As equityXdesign suggests, our responsibility as educators is to ensure that our students can “see” and “be seen,” allowing their own lines to intersect with the stories we teach​.

When we include the stories of Larry Itliong, Cynthia Bonta, and others, we allow more students to cross those lines, to see how their own identities and experiences are woven into the larger story of social change. This not only makes history more accurate but also empowers students to see themselves as part of the ongoing work of justice. Their stories, their lines, are as important as those of the past leaders they study.

Reweaving the Curriculum

Our curriculum is a bundle of lines, each representing a different story and thread of history. But too often, those lines are tightly wound around a few central figures, leaving little room for the others who helped shape our world. The work of learning is to untangle that bundle, to trace the lines that have been obscured and follow them to their intersections. This is how we grow—by understanding that history is not a straight path but a complex web of overlapping experiences.

If we want to teach our students the true meaning of solidarity, we must teach them to see these intersections to appreciate the tangled geometry of social movements. The Delano Grape Strike was not a straight line of progress but a crossing of different struggles of different peoples, each contributing their own strength to the fight for justice. To tell the story of Chavez without Itliong, without Bonta, is to erase those intersections, to deny the students the chance to see how change is made by many hands working together.

By expanding our curriculum to include the full range of stories—those of Chavez, Itliong, Bonta, and many more—we give our students the tools they need to navigate the tangled lines of history. We show them that their lines, their own stories, are part of this ongoing struggle and that their role in shaping the future is as vital as those who came before.

It’s time to embrace the complexity of history and offer students a curriculum that reflects the actual, interconnected nature of the world. Only then will they understand that their stories are lines waiting to cross others, creating new shapes, movements, and possibilities for justice.