What do I remember about Texas History class? Mostly, it’s Angelina Jolie.

Sure, there was the volleyball coach, sitting in the back of the classroom, glued to her computer monitor’s screen. And I remember my classmates, 20 or so seventh graders, whispering among ourselves (usually while playing on our phones).

And in the background, Angelina Jolie’s 1997 film, “True Women,” played on the Smart Board.

Our typical 45-minute class period on Texas history consisted of flipping through the textbook and filling out a multiple-choice homework assignment. Collaboration was encouraged, and quizzes took many students about 10 minutes of “studying” to pass.

Maybe that’s why watching “True Women” is the only thing I remember from my middle school Texas History course—Angelina Jolie, as Georgia Virginia Lawshe Woods, delivers the line, “I apologize for dying so young.”

My story is not unusual, but the normalization of such a missed opportunity in education demands the attention of the state. To ensure that the next generation of citizens are properly informed, the Texas Legislature should also require students to take a Texas history in college—because it matters.

This trouble may simply be, at least in part, that Texas history is excluded from the list of subjects with an end-of-the-year comprehensive exam. The state’s apparent apathy toward a classes’ retention of Texas history just communicates to students that the subject is unworthy of being taught with excellence.

Even in the classrooms where Texas history is being taught properly, there are still limits on what can be taught—limits such as the age of the students and the education of their teachers.

Texas history is complex and nuanced in ways that young minds can’t comprehend yet. Discussions of the Spanish conquistadors’ philosophical principles and the extent of Indian atrocities against native tribes aren’t easy to teach. They should be covered in junior high—but only to a certain extent.

Children also don’t have the necessary skills to engage in rigorous study. For instance, most elementary and middle school students would not understand the diary of Hernán Cortés. Analyzing such a primary source would be invaluable to developing an informed understanding of prominent people and events in the early period of Texas.

Teachers, likewise, may be unfamiliar with the complexities and implications of Spanish philosophy, Mexican ideals, and the culture of Anglo-Saxon settlers—all of which are essential to having an accurate comprehension of where Texas has been, where it is, and where it could go.

Texas history college courses, on the other hand, would not only build upon and expand the knowledge students gained from K-12 education but help them value their state’s social institutions, customs, and art with greater understanding and depth.

Teaching Texas history in college is also important because of the number of out-of-state students enrolled in public universities. Many of these undergraduates will never move back home; a portion of them will choose to stay, get jobs, and raise their families here.

For example, at Texas A&M University at College Station, a little over 5% of students are from another state, according to College Factual. Similarly, 10% of the student body at the University of Texas in Austin is composed of out-of-state undergraduates, according to the university’s website.

The average college student often wants to take the easiest classes, the most interesting ones, and those within his or her major or minor. For an undergraduate, departing from this preference list could be expensive, and could postpone their graduation. The only way to get every student to take Texas history is by changing current graduation requirements.

The lore of this great state has been preserved. But like a relic from a bygone era, it’s kept safe within a glass case. The walls of K-12 classrooms are far too limited to display the scope and consequence of Texas history. It’s time that our heritage is treated as more than just another educational checkbox, and given a place in public universities.