To believe or not to believe: Helping students spot misinformation
In 1917, two English girls took pictures of themselves posing with “fairies.” Although the teenagers meant the photographs as a joke, adults around them believed the images to be authentic. These gullible adults included Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who published the images in The Strand Magazine in 1920 and asserted they were genuine. While there were some skeptics, it wasn’t until 1978 that someone pointed out that the fairies looked very similar to those in a children’s book of that time. Then, in 1981, one of the “fairy” photographers confessed that she and her friend had used paper cutouts to create the photographic hoax.
Fast forward to 2026: Although we might be faster to debunk hoaxes like this, it’s only because they appear at an alarming rate, especially with the emergence of AI. And we still fall for them, even if briefly. Take Katy Perry and Rihanna’s fake attendance at the Met Gala (a hoax that fooled even Perry’s mother), or the Halloween parade in Dublin that never happened, or the trampoline bunnies.
As I think about what this means for social-studies education, I keep coming back to one question: How do we help students move from “That sounds right” to “How do I know?” Of course, students need to know things. But they also need to know when to pause, ask a question, and take a closer look. We’ve always encouraged this with historical thinking skills like sourcing, but it seems both more important and more challenging than ever.
Of course, it’s easier said than done when students are seeing creators share the same message on several platforms. Seeing thousands of people “like” it. Reading everyone’s “atta boys” in the comments. At some point, it’s tempting to think, “Surely all these people can’t be wrong.” But likes aren’t evidence. And hearing something over and over doesn’t make it true.
So, what can we do about it in the classroom? I don’t think the answer is to teach students to distrust everything, or simply to tell them what not to believe. I think the answer is to help them build a habit: identify the claim, consider the source, check the evidence, and be willing to rethink the answer. That fits OER Project’s emphasis on questioning and historical inquiry. And it doesn’t have to start with a big, complicated lesson. Here are three ways to work up to it.
Separate plausibility from proof
Start with something low-stakes and easy to check. Use a historical photo that students might not have seen before but one for which you know the location and date. This is a great opportunity for you to use your family’s Polaroids from decades gone by—or use a more famous photo if you don’t want your students to see that questionable haircut from your youth. Put a claim on the board that says that this photo was taken in “x” location in “y” year. Remind your students that we’re practicing how to test a claim, not trying to stump anyone.
I like the simplicity of sticky notes for this. Let students respond anonymously with “true,” “false,” or “not enough information.” Then, ask them to explain their thinking. What made the statement seem believable? What would they need to check before they could be sure?
You might hear, “I noticed evergreen trees in the background, so I assumed you were in the Midwest,” or “mullets are cool haircuts, so maybe this was just a few years ago.” That’s the opening. The students are using what they know to make sense of something they’re unfamiliar with. But knowing one part of a statement is true doesn’t mean the whole thing checks out. Work together to unveil the true location and date of the photograph. Then, give students a chance to change their answers. Changing your mind is part of the work, not a sign that you failed.
Notice what a feed leaves out
Once students have tested one claim, zoom out. What happens when they keep seeing the same kinds of claims? A personalized feed can make a topic or viewpoint feel like the whole conversation, when it’s really just the part they’re being shown. Asking a simple question, like “How many of you have clicked on a funny animal video and noticed that you get a bunch of other funny animal videos in your social feed?” A bunch of hands will shoot into the air. This is a good opening to talk about echo chambers. The point isn’t that repeated content must be false. It’s that repetition isn’t the same as independent confirmation.
For this activity, teacher-curated, age-appropriate sample feeds work well. Creating a “finstagram” or fake Instagram is an easy way to complete this activity. Or, you could pull a series of posts and include them in a PowerPoint instead of actually going online. The lesson will still land. Students can also look at their own feeds privately, if school policy allows it. Either way, no one should need a phone, an account, or a willingness to share personal content to join in.
Have students jot down a short summary of the first 20 videos and pull out three themes. Then, let them compare those themes with a partner. Keep the conversation on patterns, not usernames or personal details. Where’s the overlap? What’s different? What isn’t showing up at all?
This is where I’d pause and ask, “Are you getting more evidence, or just more of the same message?” Comparing feeds won’t tell students which claims are true. But it can help them see that their feed isn’t everyone’s feed, and that checking a claim may mean looking somewhere else.
Test the message against the record
Now, use that habit with something a little more complicated: a message that’s actively trying to persuade us. Campaign ads are useful here, and they don’t have to be from the latest election. Historical ads work, too. Choose age-appropriate examples that make contrasting claims about the same candidate, and give each one the same scrutiny.
Who made the ad? What are they asking us to believe? What evidence do they offer? What might they be leaving out? Ask students to make an initial assessment of the claims rather than announce whom they’d vote for. We’re practicing how to evaluate information, not asking anyone to defend their politics.
Then, go beyond the ad. Pull up the relevant voting record, the full statement being quoted, or independent reporting on the event. A candidate’s website can tell us what they say their position is, but it isn’t independent confirmation. And “nonpartisan” isn’t a reason to stop asking questions. Look at where the information came from.
Have students revisit each claim. Is it supported, contradicted, or still unresolved? Then, ask the questions that really matter. What changed your thinking? What context was missing? What would you check next? “We still don’t have enough information” is a perfectly useful place to land.
And there’s the connection to history. A campaign ad, a primary source, an interpretation of the past. The sources change, but the same questions apply. Who created this? What are they claiming? What happens when we put that claim alongside other evidence?
Build discernment, not blanket distrust
For me, that’s the thread connecting these activities. Start with a claim that sounds plausible. Notice how repetition can make it feel convincing. Then, look for evidence beyond the message itself. We aren’t trying to encourage students to roll their eyes at everything. We’re helping them recognize when they have good reason to believe something, and when they need to keep looking.
Everyone wants to believe. Even Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wanted to believe in fairies. I don’t think we teach that impulse away. But we can make room for another one: the willingness to pause and say, “Wait. How do we know?” And we can make changing your mind feel like a normal part of learning, rather than something to be embarrassed about.
This doesn’t have to be a one-off digital literacy lesson. In a social studies classroom, it’s a habit we can practice in every unit. The next convincing fake will still be waiting when students pick up their phones. The goal is to help them decide what’s worth believing, not just what’s worth liking.
About the author: Angelina Meadows Comb serves as Director of OER Project, where she leads the development of innovative K-12 social studies curriculum and educator resources. Her leadership advances collaboration and empowers educators to strengthen teaching and learning nationwide.
Header image: Composite trampoline, by Pearson Scott Foresman, public domain.