What can we learn from studying the history of a high school? This year, I had the privilege of leading the SAR Historical Society, a new academic club at SAR High School dedicated to exploring that very question.
The SAR Historical Society, launched as part of Machon Siach’s Innovation Lab, brought together a cohort of motivated student-historians. Our aim was to explore the history of our school and, in the process, familiarize ourselves with the craft of historians and reflect on the significance of local history. Rather than telling a chronological institutional story, we adopted an artifact-first approach. Students investigated documents, photographs and oral histories to consider how they fit into the broader context of Jewish and American history.
The club’s agenda was divided into three components: History Beyond the Classroom, BEE a Historian (a nod to SAR’s “Sting” mascot), and Passionate History Presentations.
The goal of History Beyond the Classroom was to expand our perception of how history is studied and presented, breaking away from the slides-and-worksheet paradigm of the high school classroom. To achieve that, students were exposed to a variety of adult professionals who were “doing history” creatively. We met with the co-hosts of the Jewish History Nerds podcast to discuss the joys and challenges of producing a popular history show. We visited the American Jewish Historical Society for a behind-the-scenes look at an archive (including their amazing collection of Jewish baseball memorabilia). We considered how sculptural architecture can tell a story about the moment in which it was built during an art history tour of the SAR Academy sanctuary, and we toured the Lower East Side to inquire into the value of studying history where it happened. Finally, we participated in a primary source seminar with an academic scholar.
The cumulative effect of these experiences was to reorient the students’ thinking about the field of history. Students were pushed to see history not merely as textbook content but as a subject matter rooted in artifacts. At the same time, they were excited by the myriad ways in which the stories of the past can be reanimated for a contemporary audience.
BEE a Historian was our hands-on component. Inspired by the experiences described above, students were invited to roll up their sleeves and conduct original research into the history of SAR and its predecessor institutions, Salanter and Akiba. Each student was assigned an artifact and invited to explore the story behind it. Artifacts included a 1930s Salanter graduation photo, a narrative history written in honor of SAR Academy’s 25th anniversary and a 1994-95 SAR Academy Handbook (which, while seemingly trivial, we were delighted to discover in the AJHS archive).
The framework we used to analyze the primary sources, inspired by a similar program at the New York Historical Society, was text-context-subtext. Students asked: What is the text (or other primary source) being examined? When and why was it created? What deeper story does it tell or suggest? To uncover subtext, students engaged in inquiry activities and selected a single question they wished to investigate further.
Since the Society was a voluntary after-school club, an out-of-the-box, creative approach was needed to build a foundation of historical thinking tools. For example, we began our research with an imaginative exercise: writing a history of SAR in the present from the vantage point of 2050. Students treated our building as an archive and explored it through a scavenger hunt-style evidence-gathering sprint. This helped them begin to think historically about an institution they know well and to consider it as a subject worthy of inquiry. It also encouraged them to reflect on the types of primary sources available in exploring local history, particularly the importance of oral history and the challenge of accessing documents often dispersed among community members.
When students were stuck or found it difficult to carve out time for their research, we held a “history hackathon,” an evening of focused work powered by music, snacks and history-themed game breaks. Much of what we implemented this year was inspired by my time teaching at the Idea School, a project-based learning (PBL) high school that closed in 2023. It was encouraging to see PBL principles like the importance of exhibiting work and the value of hands-on inquiry take root in a club setting.
From the outset, student buy-in was crucial, and I was fortunate to work with a group that combined genuine enthusiasm for history with a deep connection to the school community, alongside a healthy appetite for after-school silliness. Midway through the year, the students expressed interest in adding a more open-ended format, where they could present on any historical topic of their choosing. We explored ideas like historical escape rooms, dinner parties based on period recipes and student-led seminars. Ultimately, we piloted the initiative with a student presentation in honor of Women’s History Month and look forward to expanding this programming next year.
At year’s end, students presented their work in a “lunch and learn” for peers and school administrators. This fell somewhat short of our initial ambitions of curating a museum exhibit and beginning the creation of an extensive archival collection. Nevertheless, the presentation reflected the deep value of the process. As students shared their research projects, they demonstrated the historical thinking skills they had developed throughout the year.
For example, one group examined changes in the Academy handbook, comparing the 1994–95 edition to the most recent version. By highlighting changes over time, they drew attention to shifts in institutional culture and norms. Their familiarity with the gap between the formal rules of today’s handbook and the lived reality of school life also led them to question the reliability of the 1994–95 version as a historical source. Can it be trusted to reflect what SAR was really like in the 1990s, or does it reveal more about how the administration at the time hoped to shape the school’s everyday conduct?
Another fascinating project involved a student’s exploration of changes in the high school’s architecture, using interviews and oral histories. His research traced how global events such as the COVID-19 pandemic, security concerns and shifting trends in education shaped the physical structure of the school. Through this, he demonstrated how global moments leave tangible marks on local institutions. Finally, a pair of students pointed to how a letter written by fifth graders at Salanter in the 1930s echoed the newspaper headlines that the students (or at least their teachers) were reading, bringing to life the context in which said letter was created.
So going back to where we started, why explore our school’s history or, for that matter, any local history?
First, in many ways, this was the equivalent of a family history project for our institution. Like any intimate family history, exploring our school history was fun and motivating, allowing the student-historians to build a deeper connection with the space they inhabit and the community they belong to. Moreover, like the life story of a family elder, our school has been around for quite some time and its story is transforming into a history that needs to be told. SAR Academy was founded in the 1960s as a merger of three preexisting schools. Much of what was once living memory is now becoming part of a past worth preserving.
Second, this project served as a powerful training tool for developing historical thinking skills, especially analyzing primary sources. Local history allows you to “cut to the chase”: Because students are already familiar with the subject matter, they’re able to go deeper, faster, skipping over context right into insightful analysis. There’s also the thrill of discovery — working with “raw” historical material that, while small in scale, is often underexplored. At the same time, local history becomes a gateway to understanding “big picture” history. For example, while learning about SAR’s founding, students were also exposed to the social phenomenon of “white flight” to the suburbs during the 1960s. Tackling this piece of urban history from the vantage point of our school’s story added nuance, texture and real-life examples to this broader topic.
Finally, in an age of generative AI, when machines can rapidly produce polished content, the value of human historical work becomes more apparent. The kinds of stories we explored this year — stories that are specific, personal and embedded in a particular place — can’t be scraped from the internet. They must be uncovered, interpreted and shared by people. That’s the work we began this year. And it’s the work we hope to continue in year two.
Mr. Ben Zion Ferziger teaches history at SAR High School.
Machon Siach was established in 2015 with a legacy gift from Marcel Lindenbaum, z”l honoring the memory of his wife, Belda Kaufman Lindenbaum, z”l.”
