I’m old enough to remember the 200th anniversary of the American Revolution. Bicentennial symbols were everywhere. Liberty Bells, eagles, and the ubiquitous Bicentennial logo of the red, white and blue stylized five-point star. They could be found on hats, T-shirts, socks, soft drink cups, beer cans, and even a special “Spirit of ‘76” edition of the Ford Mustang II. Commemorative events and celebrations were being planned everywhere and people had “bicentennial fever”.
But the 250th anniversary is not attracting that same kind of attention or interest. I wonder why that is. Perhaps it’s that the name for a 250th anniversary, Semiquincentennial, doesn’t seem to roll off the tongue the way Bicentennial does. But I suspect it’s far more than just a tongue twisting name.
The Bicentennial came after a decade of national trauma. The Vietnam War, Watergate, and the civil rights struggles had all roiled the country. By 1976, most Americans wanted to feel good about the country again. It became a giant, colorful celebration of “American resilience.”
While the 250th anniversary of the American Revolution is being marked by numerous events, commemorations, and official proclamations, most are local, and it has not yet captured widespread public attention or generated the scale of national excitement seen during previous milestone anniversaries.
The anniversary arrives at a time of deep political polarization, which has complicated celebration plans. There is an ongoing debate within the group tasked with planning the celebration, the U.S. Semiquincentennial Commission, about how to present American history. Some members advocate for a traditional, celebratory approach focusing on the Founding Fathers and patriotic themes. Others push for a more inclusive narrative that acknowledges the complexities of American history, including the experiences of women, enslaved people, Indigenous communities, and other marginalized groups
Beyond the commission itself, some historians note that the “history wars”—ongoing disputes throughout society over how U.S. history should be taught and remembered—have made it harder to generate broad, enthusiastic buy-in for the anniversary among the general public.
Commemorations in places like Lexington and Concord have seen anti-Trump protesters carrying signs such as “Resist Like It’s 1775” and “No Kings,” explicitly drawing parallels between opposition to King George III and contemporary resistance to what they perceive as autocratic tendencies in current leadership. At the reenactment of Patrick Henry’s “Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death” speech, Virginia Governor Glenn Youngkin was met with boos and protest chants, highlighting how the Revolution’s legacy is being invoked in current political struggles.
While some organizers and historians hope the anniversary can serve as a unifying moment—emphasizing that “patriotism should not be a partisan issue”—the reality is that commemorations have often become forums for expressing contemporary political grievances and anxieties. The presence of both celebratory and dissenting voices at these events reflects the enduring debate over what it means to be American and who gets to define that identity. The complexity and messiness of American history, combined with current societal tensions, may dampen the celebratory mood and make it harder for people to connect emotionally with the anniversary.
Even the 250th logo has become a source of dispute, although it is one of the few areas of disagreement that is nonpartisan and tends to be about stylistic and artistic merits of the logo. Proponents of the new logo appreciate its modern and inclusive design emphasizing that the flowing ribbon represents “unity, cooperation, and harmony,” and reflects the nation’s aspirations as it commemorates this milestone. Detractors are concerned about the legibility of the “250” and the lack of traditional American symbols, such as stars, which could have reinforced its patriotic theme.
Surveys by history related organizations suggest that most Americans are not yet thinking about the 250th anniversary. The run-up to 2026 may see increased attention, but as of now, the anniversary has not broken through as a major topic of national conversation. If the anniversary continues to be viewed as a contentious partisan undertaking, it may never gain widespread popularity, and the general public may choose to stay away.
A friend who is a member of the West Virginia 250th committee told me that they had an initial meeting at which nothing was accomplished, and they have had no meeting since. It seems to me, this is up to us, the citizens, to ensure that the 250th anniversary of the American Revolution is appropriately remembered. We don’t have to live in an area where a Revolutionary War event occurred for us to recognize its events. Here in West Virginia, in October of 2024 we commemorated the 250th anniversary of the battle of Point Pleasant which many consider a precursor to the American Revolution. This event was not organized by any state or national group. It was the result of efforts on the part of the City of Point Pleasant and the West Virginia Sons of the American Revolution.
We do not need to depend on the government; we the people can hold local commemorations of revolutionary events that occurred in other areas. We can hold commemorations of the Battle of Bunker Hill, the signing of the Declaration of Independence, the Battle of Saratoga and many other events. It will take the initiative of local people to organize these events.
It will be our great shame if we allow this the commemoration of an event so significant in both American and world history to be turned into something that divides us rather unites us and strengthens our common bond.
From Breaker Boys to Burger Flippers: The Resurgence of Child Labor in America
By John Turley
On May 25, 2025
In Commentary, History, Politics
What West Virginia’s new child labor law tells us about a growing trend and a forgotten history.
📜 Introduction
In April 2025, West Virginia passed a law eliminating work permit requirements for 14- and 15-year-olds and opening hazardous occupations to older teens. It’s a policy shift that echoes a much darker chapter of American history—one most of us thought was long behind us.
As I read the news, I couldn’t help but recall Lewis Hine’s haunting photos of the “Breaker Boys”—children as young as eight sorting coal in dangerous conditions. Their faces were the face of American industry at its most exploitative. Their plight helped spark the labor reforms we now take for granted.
But are those reforms at risk of unraveling?
🕰 A Brief History of Child Labor in America
At the turn of the 20th century, over two million American children worked long hours in factories, coal mines, and fields. Some were as young as five. The wages were low, the conditions dangerous, and the toll—educational, emotional, and physical—immeasurable.
Most of these children came from poor or immigrant families. Factory and mine owners favored child labor because it was cheap, compliant, and expendable.
⚖️ Early Reforms and Legal Battles
The reform movement gained traction in the early 1900s thanks to activists, labor unions, and journalists. The National Child Labor Committee, founded in 1904, worked with photographers like Lewis Hine to expose the brutality of child labor to the American public.
Attempts to legislate federally met fierce resistance. The Keating-Owen Act (1916) was struck down by the Supreme Court in Hammer v. Dagenhart (1918), and a second effort was defeated in 1923. It wasn’t until the Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA) of 1938 that the federal government established real guardrails:
The FLSA marked the beginning of consistent national protections for working children.
🎓 Child Labor and Education: A Damaging Tradeoff
There’s a well-documented tradeoff between child labor and education:
Even today, agricultural labor laws allow children as young as 12 to work long hours, especially among migrant families. These children have some of the country’s highest school dropout rates.
📉 Modern Rollbacks: A Disturbing Trend
Since 2021, over a dozen U.S. states have proposed or passed laws rolling back child labor protections, often citing labor shortages or “career readiness”:
Critics warn that these laws open the door to exploitation, especially in lower-income communities.
🧠 Why It Matters
The repeal of child labor protections isn’t just a policy dispute—it’s a moral referendum. If child labor laws are weakened, the most vulnerable children will bear the cost, just as they did a century ago.
The lesson from history is simple: when economic hardship or political expediency trumps child welfare, it’s children who are put at risk.
📣 Final Thoughts
Public memory is short. But the bodies of exhausted child laborers buried in unknown graves and the broken educational paths of working teens are silent witnesses to the past—and a warning for the future.
If we claim to value children’s futures, our policies must reflect that—not just in schools, but in the workplace.
🔗 Sources and Suggested Further Reading