Seeking Charlemagne: An origin story
The Coronation of Charlemagne by assistants of Raphael (1516-1517)-The Vatican
A few years back, a story broke about planned changes to the school curriculum in the Canadian province of Alberta. In March 2021, Jason Kenney, then leader of the United Conservative Party (UCP), released a 550-page report detailing their plan to overhaul the K–6 curriculum all at once. The goal was to introduce greater numeracy and literacy as well as general historical knowledge.
At the time, I was working alongside other Alberta teachers, many of them young and in their 20s. A discussion soon arose regarding the curriculum:
“Why do students need to learn about European history, anyway? It has nothing to do with Canada,” stated one teacher.
“Why is there so much focus on European settlement? This Eurocentrism detracts from First Nations perspectives,” said another.
Never mind that the curriculum already included substantial material on various First Nations peoples, including the Cree and Blackfoot. I was taken aback by the lack of historical breadth and intellectual curiosity among those assembled. It felt as though these teachers were mired in a bog of groupthink, unable to empathize with or understand the importance of giving students access to a clear, chronological, and diverse historical narrative.
This perspective of historical myopia was echoed by former NDP education minister David Eggen, who stated:
“Now more than ever we need to teach about inclusion, to teach about equality and social justice.”
That same sentiment shaped much of the discussion during a group reflection session on the new curriculum. A few suggestions were thrown out and eagerly affirmed:
“We need to talk about BLM (the Black Lives Matter movement). So many young people are getting killed by racist cops.”
“Systemic oppression and white privilege exist at all levels of society. We need to dismantle colonialism.”
“When are students going to study intersections of Black and LGBT oppression?”
At this point, having heard enough of the ideologically inflected language and increasingly aware of the biases within the group, I asked a question:
“Would it not serve our students, parents, and society better if our pupils had access to a broad understanding of history—one that strives to accurately depict the historical contributions and failings of all groups—European, Indigenous, Black—for better or for worse?”
The reaction was immediate. A look of disgust crossed more than one face. One teacher retorted:
“You mean you want to discuss the benefits of European colonialism? That’s an act of harm and violence against Indigenous and Black students.”
Another put his hand to his thick, red beard and stated:
“We have no intention of saying anything good about settler-colonialists. We refuse to teach the values of dead white males.”
Having taken the hint, I spent the rest of my tenure typecast as 'bigoted,’ ‘close-minded,’ a ‘colonial apologist,’ or worse—labels designed to discredit and attack rather than engage. They served mainly as moral performance: a way for others to signal their virtue at my expense.
Of course, I didn’t let it get to me. I was accustomed to working in environments shaped by the predispositions of the ideological Left. Still, I was shocked by the vehemence and narrow-mindedness of this particular group, whose attitude mirrored trends emerging throughout Alberta and Canada.
The controversy surrounding the push for a “content-rich” curriculum—and the backlash it provoked among some educators—points to a deeper issue: a profound lack of historical knowledge and perspective. This gaping deficit was captured in a powerful article that also served as the inspiration for the name of this website: Searching for Charlemagne: What’s Really at Stake in Alberta’s Curriculum Controversy.
The article explains the broader shift from “knowledge-based learning” to “skills-based learning,” a pedagogical model developed by mid-20th-century constructivist thinkers. Whereas a knowledge-based education focuses on a shared canon—such as the great books of the Western tradition, from Homer to Chaucer—a skills-based education emphasizes general competencies like critical thinking and literacy, often without a consistent curricular foundation. This model allows for wide variation in what students learn—even within the same grade level—based on the preferences, limitations, and biases of individual teachers. The result is fragmentation, inconsistency, and cavernous gaps in historical knowledge—like those I witnessed firsthand in discussions of the new curriculum.
John Hilton-O’Brien, executive director of Parents for Choice in Education, put it succinctly:
“There was a great deal of alarm among teachers who would have to adjust their content… Many, for instance, apparently did not know who Charlemagne was—or that the name means ‘Charles the Great’—and were terrified that they might have to teach about him.”
Charlemagne was an 8th-century Frankish king and the founder of the Holy Roman Empire. He united much of Europe and inaugurated the Carolingian Renaissance—a flowering of learning that helped preserve classical knowledge during the medieval period. Charlemagne himself was a fascinating figure: a great warrior known for his physical prowess and leadership in battle, who nonetheless surrounded himself with learned monks and scholars, endowing libraries and universities to preserve and copy Latin and Greek texts, including the Bible.
Born a pagan, Charlemagne—Karl der Große in his native German—was baptized in Rome in 800 AD by Pope Leo III, forging an empire that would eventually encompass much of Western and Central Europe. Though he was ruthless in his early conquests—most notoriously in Saxony, where over 10,000 people were killed—he later adopted a more humane approach, influenced by the monk Alcuin, who urged him to spread Christianity through teaching and example rather than through force.
Charlemagne’s legacy is complex and multifaceted. In his life we find many of the paradoxes that characterize a heroic and meaningful existence: war and peace, paganism and faith, justice and mercy. His greatness lies not in moral perfection but in the grandeur of a life lived at the intersection of temporal power and transcendent ideals.
What is singularly sad today is the growing lack of appreciation for such lives. Rather than seeking to understand the past—with its complexity, its triumphs and failures—there is a rising impulse among segments of the progressive Left to mock, dismantle, and forget the very traditions and legacies that have shaped the modern world.
My goal with Seeking Charlemagne is to provide a home for those who find strength and solace in the deep wells of ancient wisdom. Across the United States and beyond, classical schools are experiencing a renaissance, as families and educators respond to the confusion and ideological capture that have distorted education. In an age of cultural drift, more and more people are turning toward the true, the good, and the beautiful.
To seek Charlemagne is to seek that which is noble, enduring, and elevated—a vision of life rooted in courage, learning, and transcendent purpose. And that is a vision worth pursuing.
-
