We Wear the Mask: The Lived Experiences of Black Undergraduate Music Education Students in Predominantly White Schools of Music

Black Students at Predominantly White Institutions

Much has been written about the experiences of Black students at predominantly White institutions (Billingsley & Hurd, 2019; Goodwill et al., 2022; Griffith et al., 2019). Black students in predominantly White institutions (PWIs) are more likely to encounter race-related stressors than those attending historically Black institutions (Greer & Chwalisz, 2007). These race-related stressors have been found to negatively affect their academic success (Cokley, 2000), self-esteem (Nadal et al., 2014), sense of belonging (Hurtado & Alvarado, 2015), and degree completion. Black students in PWIs commonly report three types of issues, including (a) cultural adjustment issues, (b) academic issues, and (c) racism and discrimination.

Black Student Experiences in Predominantly White Schools of Music

Black students in PWIs often contend with what Brower and Ketterhagen (2004) described as an “inherent mismatch” (p. 96) between their expectations and those of the prevailing White culture found on their campuses. In PWSOM, this sociocultural mismatch is best exemplified by the strict adherence to Western-European classical traditions (Fitzpatrick et al., 2014) and the invalidation of music not from the Western classical tradition (Bradley, 2015). Robinson (Robinson & Hendricks, 2018) detailed how the deferral to western classical music contributed to their feelings of isolation:

My collegiate experience left me feeling marginalized because I was different. I was different because I had not been steeped in Western European classical music like my colleagues. . . . I was an anomaly because I was the only Black person in most of my music classes. I felt even more isolated in less theoretical classes such as music history and music education because they too exposed how different my music background was from those about whom I read in history or method books. . . . I found myself studying the uniqueness of Whiteness and the superiority of White ingenuity. Instead of feeling like a musician, I began to feel like a problem and became aware of the inherent difference between my White counterparts and me. (pp. 33–34)

Robinson’s description, while sobering, encapsulates the way in which the strict adherence to European traditions and values in music education influences the experiences of Black students in PWSOM.

Feelings of isolation and loneliness are further intensified by the scarcity of Black peers and faculty members (Anderson, 2018; Robinson & Hendricks, 2018). Black students in PWSOM often express a desire for social interaction with peers and faculty who possess the same characteristics and are of the same backgrounds (Anderson, 2018; McCall, 2015). However, they are underrepresented among both the student and faculty populations. An examination of the most recent available data revealed that Black students and faculty comprise only 7.07% (Elpus, 2015) and 3.6% (Hewitt & Thompson, 2006) of the music education student and faculty populations, respectively. Delorenzo and Silverman (2016) found that the underrepresentation of minority music faculty caused students to question their belonging in the music teaching profession.

McCall (2015) and Anderson (2018) provided the only two known phenomenological examinations of Black student experiences in PWSOM. McCall examined the degree perseverance of eight African American males who had attended an HBCU for undergraduate music studies before transitioning to a PWSOM for graduate studies. Findings revealed that participants’ experiences were substantially affected by encounters with racism in their PWSOM. In addition to the isolation and loneliness experienced by Black students at PWIs, participants had their competency, intelligence, and musical abilities questioned because they had previously attended an HBCU. As a result, participants were left feeling rejected and devalued by their White peers and professors.

Anderson (2018) investigated how Black doctoral music students identified and responded to identity stereotypes throughout their music education. Participants reported encountering negative stereotypes about Black people in general and about Black musicianship. Participants felt that they needed to work twice as hard to succeed and break negative stereotypes held by White peers and professors. Many felt that their actions would reflect on their entire race and altered their dress, speech, and physical appearance to be more in line with the prevailing White culture. Participants suggested that this feeling motivated them to succeed and pave the way for future Black students. Both McCall (2015) and Anderson found that participants reported professors’ unequal distribution of time, attention, and information.

McCall’s (2015) and Anderson’s (2018) works provided substantial insight into the specific experiences of Black graduate students in PWSOM. However, little research has provided the same depth of insight into the meanings and understandings that Black undergraduate students in the specialized field of music education ascribe to their experiences.

Much has been written about the demographics of music education and the potential for underrepresentation to negatively affect the experiences of students from historically marginalized populations. At the heart of this study was the question, What does it mean to exist as a Black student in a PWSOM? There existed a need for systematic inquiry that allowed this question to be answered by those currently living that existence. Therefore, the purpose of this hermeneutic phenomenological study was to understand how Black undergraduate music education students make meaning of their lived experiences in PWSOM. The study was guided by the following research questions: (1) What makes the lived experience of Black undergraduate music education students unique? and (2) What meaning(s) and understanding(s) do Black undergraduate music education students ascribe to their experiences in predominantly White schools of music? This study contributes to the growing body of literature related to the experiences of students from historically marginalized populations.

Reflexivity

It is often said of qualitative research that the researcher is the instrument. This is especially true for hermeneutic phenomenology, in which an understanding of the phenomenon is centered in the researcher’s interpretations of participants’ ascribed meanings. Therefore, the researcher must make their assumptions explicit through reflexivity so that the reader may better evaluate the findings. In keeping with this practice, I have included my experience as a Black student in predominantly White musical spaces in the introduction of this article. What follows is an excerpt from my researcher’s journal in which I attempted to make plain my pre-assumptions of participants’ meanings and understandings of their lived experiences:

Having experienced the phenomenon myself, I expect that participants have spent time thinking about their existence in their schools. I expect to hear stories about encounters with microaggressions and insensitive comments and to hear that they feel somewhat lonely. Ultimately, I expect participants to understand their experiences as a microcosm of what they deal with in general society.

Additionally, my experience navigating predominantly White educational spaces influenced many aspects of this study, including (a) selecting participants, (b) constructing interview questions, and (c) interacting with participants.

Participant Selection

I recruited nine participants, all of whom met the selection criteria of identifying as Black and being, at the time, enrolled as an undergraduate student in a PWSOM. The participants represented a marginalized population in music education (Bradley, 2007; Koza, 2008; Robinson & Hendricks, 2018). Therefore, it was essential that the study’s design, including participant selection, reflected sensitivity to potential power imbalances (Creswell, 2013). Recruiting participants through music education faculty at PWSOM may have limited the number of participants or caused participants to censor their responses. Therefore, I used a snowball sampling technique, which consisted of posting the recruitment script and my contact information to online social networks. Interested persons forwarded the recruitment script and my contact information to other individuals who also met the selection criteria. Prior to collecting data, I sought and received exempt status and approval from my university’s institutional review board. Each participant selected a pseudonym to be used in the reporting of findings.

Participant Descriptions

What follows are excerpts from participants’ descriptive portraits. Age, while usually detailed, has been omitted at the participants’ request. Many believed that their age, in conjunction with other demographic details, would make them identifiable to White faculty members from whom they feared reprisal.

Kimberly (sophomore, female, strings): No one has explicitly told me that I don’t belong. But it’s like I’ve almost been shown in every way possible that I don’t.

Despite her success in music, Kimberly never felt that she belonged in any classical music setting. She was discouraged by the lack of representation of Black students and faculty in her school and spoke at length about the effect that had on her. She had decided to become a music teacher to show younger Black students that they could succeed in music.

Doreen (sophomore, female, band): For me, at this point, I’m just trying to finish my degree. I guess the mentality I have now is like, I’m just here to get my piece of paper and I’m out of here. I’m just there to get my work in and get out.

Doreen had recently returned to her school after leaving at the end of her first year. She cited race-related stressors as her reason for leaving and spoke candidly about the “mental acrobatics” associated with being Black in her school. She had decided to return to make a space for more Black teachers in the field of music.

Bryson (freshman, male, strings): You cannot escape being Black. It’s something that I always have to think about—that the first thing people see is the color of my skin.

Bryson had attended predominantly White schools for most of his life. By the time he graduated from high school, he had become accustomed to having to prove himself in predominantly White musical settings. His experiences in White musical spaces had influenced his choice to study music education, and he had decided to become a music teacher to be a source of encouragement and motivation for future Black musicians.

Sally (junior, female, band): [My grandmother] was born in the in the ’30s. So, she would talk to us about her experiences with segregation, and she would tell us, “Don’t trust White people.” So, I think that kind of stuck with me—just to be cautious around White people.

Sally had left her school of music after 1 year because of her experiences and had recently returned to complete her degree. She explained that her grandmother’s warnings had influenced how she interacted with White students and faculty in her school. She decided to pursue a career as a music educator to prove that Black women could succeed in the “overwhelmingly White” field of music education.

Angel (junior, male, choral): We have to work three times harder to get the same results as White people do. And especially in music. It’s such a White-dominated industry that even if I did want to become an opera singer, for example, I would literally have to work so much harder. Even if I was more talented than my White counterparts, I would literally have to prove myself to be a better singer.

Prior to attending his predominantly White school of music, Angel studied music at a historically Black institution. Before transferring, he had accepted the fact that he would not find many students who looked like him. The lack of representation in his school of music had affected his experience, and he had wrestled with the idea that he had to work harder to prove his worth.

Taylor (senior, male, choral): I can see this is not for me, because I don’t see me in any of these classes or the curriculum.

Taylor had attended predominantly White schools for the entirety of his K–12 education. He was discouraged by how few Black students he saw. Recognizing the potential for his experiences at a PWSOM to mirror his K–12 experiences, he chose to attend a PWSOM located near an HBCU so that he could interact with Black people and culture. He spoke candidly about experiences with racism in his school of music and the inadequate responses from administration. Taylor had just begun student teaching.

Jesse (senior, female, strings): I don’t feel any ties to the School of Music. I’m getting my degree from there. But I don’t feel like the school was for me.

Jesse was used to being the only Black student in orchestra but longed for more Black participation. Even though she did not feel welcome in predominantly White musical settings, she chose to attend a PWSOM to study music education. She had accepted that she would be a minority in any school of music that she attended. Jesse had just begun student teaching.

Marian (junior, female, strings): I think because I’m trying to protect myself and guard myself . . . I do act a certain way so that no one can make me feel bad.

Marian regretted not considering an HBCU when she searched for colleges. She was from what she described as a “majority Hispanic and Black” suburb and longed for more diversity in her school of music. She spoke at length about the need to protect herself against negative perceptions of Black students

Dinah (sophomore, female, band): It’s telling me, “You don’t really have a voice because you’re the minority.” Sometimes it just, it makes me think to myself, should I even try?

Dinah was one of 10 Black students in her entire school of music. She was discouraged by the lack of representation in her school but viewed it as an improvement over her high school years, when she was the only Black student. Having only lived in predominantly White spaces, she was familiar with negative stereotypes of Black people and of Black musicianship. Her decision to teach music was driven by her desire to combat such stereotypes of Black students in the field of music.

Data Collection

In-depth phenomenological interviews were held with nine participants from February through May of 2021. Each participant was interviewed three times in accordance with Seidman’s (2006) protocol for phenomenological interviewing. Interviews were conducted via the Zoom virtual meeting platform and varied in length from 45 minutes to 101 minutes. Video recordings of each of the interviews were saved as MPEG-4 files on a password-protected laptop. I used a handheld audio recorder as a backup. After the completion of each interview, the MPEG-4 files were backed up on a password-protected portable hard drive. The first interview established the context for participants’ experiences and focused on K–12 musical experiences and family upbringing. The second interview focused solely on the participants’ experiences as students in a PWSOM. The third interview focused on the meanings each participant ascribed to their experiences.

Each participant maintained a journal in which they reflected on their experiences. Participants were asked to write freely without prompts, allowing for insight into their priorities and empowering them to choose which elements of their experiences were most important to them (Elliott, 1997). All participants provided at least three journal entries. Participants recorded journal entries electronically in a text file that I collected at the conclusion of the data collection phase.

Data Analysis

I transcribed all the interviews in full. The transcripts yielded 170 pages of single-space data. Data collected from participants’ journals yielded 21 pages of single-space data. Following van Manen’s (1990) wholistic approach to phenomenological data analysis, I began by reading interview transcripts and journal entries to understand the whole account of the participants’ experiences. Next, I reread the transcripts and journal entries in search of “sententious” (van Manen, 1990, p. 93) phrases that spoke directly to the meaning of the phenomenon. This process resulted in a list of preliminary themes. I then used the selective approach to phenomenological analysis (van Manen, 1990). This approach involved coding the data using a combination of first-cycle coding methods, including (a) in vivo coding, (b) emotion coding, and (c) versus coding (Saldaña, 2013). I then used focused coding to find themes pertinent to the research questions and assigned a unique label to each emergent theme.

Phenomenological researchers formulate understanding based on the meanings that participants ascribe to their experiences (Creswell, 2013). Therefore, I made every effort to ground my interpretations in the data, including using a variety of strategies to ensure trustworthiness (Creswell & Poth, 2018). I triangulated data collected from multiple sources at different times (Flick, 2004) and created rich, thick textual descriptions of participants’ experiences in the form of portraits (Creswell & Poth, 2018). Participants examined, proofread, and “reflect[ed] on the accuracy” (Creswell & Poth, 2018, p. 342) and credibility of the interview transcripts, preliminary analyses, emergent themes, and descriptive portraits. Conversations with participants about my preliminary analyses provided me with a deeper understanding of their experiences.

Navigating the Negative Perceptions of White People

Consistent with Harper et al.’s (2011) findings, participants were keenly aware of White students’ and professors’ negative perceptions of Black students and spent a considerable amount of energy to combat them daily. Negative perceptions included but were not limited to the following: (a) Black students do not belong in prestigious music schools, (b) Black music is not worthy of serious study, and (c) Black students are angry or aggressive. In many cases, these perceptions were made explicit. Taylor recounted:

We’ve found racial slurs posted in the bathroom. Some of the racial slurs that I saw in the school of music have been like, “I’m tired of these Black people in the school.” There was another one up saying, “They should just make a whole new program for Black people,” or “darkies.” They were all along the lines of getting rid of the Black students in the school of music. Telling the Black students to go home, basically.

This incident made plain for Taylor what his White peers thought about Black students. He solemnly described feeling that he had to act like a “quiet, little church mouse” so that he would not attract more negative attention to himself and the few Black peers he had.

Sally recounted learning how her professors viewed Black music:

Let’s say we’re having a conversation about gospel music or jazz, or spirituals, or rap music, they say that music that they perform, or Western music, is more sophisticated. Like, there’s nothing to art forms that are created by Black people.

It had become clear to Sally that music from the classical canon was the only music that possessed any value in the musical academy. Most of her precollege musical experiences involved singing and playing gospel and spirituals in church. She felt that she needed to hide her interest in music from her background so that she would not be perceived negatively by her peers and professors.

Often, participants’ experiences with negative perceptions were informed by how they existed in society at-large. All female participants explained that they adapted their actions to work around stereotypes of Black women as angry or aggressive. Kimberly explained:

I put on the biggest smile possible . . . because I need you to see my cheekbones, and my eyes squint a little bit. I really need you to know that I’m smiling at you, so that you know that I’m not frowning at you. I smile at everyone I see. Because that’s how I show that I’m not aggressive. I don’t know, but that’s one way that I communicate with people that they’re safe . . . and I don’t want to say the wrong thing or sound too aggressive or too angry, or whatever it is, and prove all of their assumptions about Black women correct. . . . I think when people see a Black woman, in general, they automatically assume that she’s all these angry Black woman things, which I’ve tried to avoid my entire life.

The requirement to manage and mediate the stereotypes and perceptions of White people created an internal struggle that greatly impacted participants’ self-concept. Each participant agreed that to succeed, they were forced to be an inauthentic version of themselves to be accepted by White people.

Making White People Comfortable

Consistent with Glenn and Johnson’s (2012) findings, participants felt an intense need to make White students and faculty comfortable. Many believed that there existed an “acceptable” type of Black person, one in whom White students and faculty found comfort, and tried daily to fit that model. Sally explained:

Just being a Black person, I know that there have been times where I’ll think to myself [pauses] you’re kind of concerned about what White people would think because you want to seem acceptable. Being that Black culture is made to seem like it is not acceptable, I guess we try to restrain ourselves in a certain way.

Jesse’s experience directly supported this theme as she reflected on how she presented herself. She explained that White female peers felt intimidated and uncomfortable when she dressed “big,” with a blouse, hoop earrings, and necklaces. “So, I dress plain to make them feel comfortable. I talk White to make them feel comfortable. I straighten my hair to make them feel comfortable,” she explained.

Participants sacrificed their own comfort for that of White students and faculty. Kimberly reflected on her reaction to being on the receiving end of a racially insensitive comment during class. She paused to compose herself: “And what was I going to do? I had to just grin and bear it because I didn’t want to be the Black person who made a White person uncomfortable.” She believed that defending herself and sharing her true feelings about the incident would make her a target for racial conflict in the future.

Sally explained,

I have a Black Lives Matter hoodie. And I was really [pauses] I didn’t want to wear it there because I was worried about what they would think and how they would feel. I just [composes herself] I didn’t feel comfortable wearing it.

Sally believed that wearing the hoodie would make her White peers and professors uncomfortable and lead to racial conflict. Instead, she decided to wear something more “acceptable.”

Participants likened making White people comfortable to wearing a metaphorical mask. For Jesse, the mask represented an entirely different persona that she put on when she entered the music building. She explained:

I feel like [pauses] like the mask is smiles. I smile a lot. But it’s like you’re putting on like a different persona. You’re putting on a different face. It’s like how people put on makeup. I’m putting on makeup to fit into whatever I need to fit into. And then when I come home, I take the makeup off and then I can finally relax.

Taylor reflected:

I shouldn’t have to wear a mask every time I step foot into the music building. I shouldn’t feel like I have to be the quiet one in the room because I’m not into operas. But, you know, we have these White students that are like, “I love the Opera House.” I’ve never been to the opera a day in my life. But I shouldn’t have to make myself feel lesser than you, like the quiet little church mouse.

Taylor had felt forced to wear a mask to navigate the homogenous nature of the music curriculum and repertoire. He hid his love of contemporary music and pretended to be interested in the music of the Western European canon.

For Bryson, wearing a mask had created an internal conflict:

I don’t know [pauses] the only word that’s coming to mind is [pauses] dirty. I don’t know why. It just, it’s kind of [pauses] shameful. The audacity of me to change myself for someone else. It’s frustrating and gross that it kind of subconsciously happens.

While Bryson recognized the need to wear a mask to survive his environment, he admonished himself for changing his speech and actions to be accepted by White people.

Working Harder to Prove Myself

As with the Anderson’s (2018) findings, participants felt the need to work harder to prove that they belonged in their schools of music because of negative perceptions of Black students. Kimberly felt that as a Black student, she had to work harder than White students to prove that she was worthy of being in her school. Bryson admitted that he worked harder because he needed to show that Black people could succeed in music. For Angel, the need to prove himself was directly related to the preconception that Black students would not complete the degree program.

Participants felt that they were held to a higher standard than White students and worked hard to meet it. Jesse explained that she worked harder to fit into a model of professionalism that inherently valued White bodies over Black. She explained:

I feel like professionalism has always been seen as one image and they [White students] fit that image. Professionalism has always been seen as some White person with a briefcase and nice, calm hair. Straight hair combed back into a ponytail or something. First of all, straight hair, so I’m already losing. They have the face, they have the skin color, they have the hair, they have the White speech. Even me speaking properly is considered me speaking White. Then [they] go to school and see all these people in leadership positions who look like them and who also fit that proper picture.

“Do I Belong Here?”

In addition to the overwhelming need to prove themselves, other factors caused participants to question if they belonged in their PWSOM. With so few Black students and faculty in their schools of music, participants questioned if it was possible to succeed. Kimberly explained:

Especially looking around and not seeing anyone who looks like me and never having a professor that looks like me, it feels like I can’t do it. I feel lost. What’s happening that there aren’t more Black people in higher education in music specifically, and what [pause] what makes me think that I get to be one of them?

Participants also questioned their belonging because of the inherent invalidation of Black music in the music curriculum as described by Bradley (2015). Taylor explained:

We are trying to fit into a space that does not want us, and that affects our morale. I can see that this is not for me, because I don’t see me in any of these classes or the curriculum.

All participants described being singled out to speak about what might be considered “Black” topics. Being singled out to speak about Black composers highlighted that being Black in this setting was not the norm, further reinforcing that they did not belong. Additionally, participants questioned if they had been accepted into their schools of music to fulfill a diversity quota. Many battled between feeling that they had earned their place and feeling that they had to prove that they belonged.

A Climate of Racial and Cultural Insensitivity

Participants described climates of racial and cultural insensitivity. Consistent with Cabrera’s (2018) findings, participants encountered racist jokes and comments in their PWSOM. Doreen recounted:

There was another girl named Doreen, and we played the same instrument. Someone asked, “So, how are we going to tell them apart?” And she said, “Well, we could just call her Black Doreen.” So, every time she passed me the in hallway, she would say, “What’s up Black Doreen?” or “Hey, Black Doreen.”

This experience traumatized Doreen to the extent that when she saw “White Doreen” at an in-service conference years later, she deliberately avoided her in hopes of not reliving it.

Doreen also recalled sitting in a class while White students and the professor laughed about the genocide of Native Americans. “Somebody said something about Native American people and someone else said, ‘Didn’t we kill all of them?’ It was just all White people in the room, and it just it was just laughed off.”

Sally endured an overwhelming amount of racial insensitivity from peers and professors. She recalled:

We were in flute ensemble, and there’s this thing called flute face, where the tarnish comes off on your skin, and of course, I was the only dark-skinned person there. And this White girl says, “Hey, some people are born like that.” And she looks at me and says, “Sorry, Sally.” And everybody thought it was funny. I was stuck. I didn’t know how to speak up for myself at that point. I didn’t know what to say, but I kind of just [pauses] I kind of just hung my head.

The freedom and comfort with which the student made the comment and her peers’ acceptance of it left Sally feeling debased and humiliated. This event reinforced that she did not belong and led her to feel even more removed from the school community.

Distrust of White Faculty

While many participants admitted that they distrusted White people before attending a PWSOM, they explained that their distrust grew because of negative interactions with White faculty. This finding was consistent with those of Cody (2017). Sally distrusted her White professors because of their roles in fostering climates of racial and cultural insensitivity. Reflecting on her professor’s response to the flute face incident, Sally recalled:

My professor emailed me saying she noticed how my demeanor changed. And she was saying that the girl didn’t mean any harm. So, in my eyes, she stood up for the girl and what she said. So, I just, I kind of felt defeated at that point and knew I couldn’t trust her. And that made me feel even further removed from the community.

No participant could recall a faculty member admonishing racist jokes and comments when they were made aloud in class. Other participants’ distrust intensified after their concerns were ignored by school administrators. Doreen reflected on an administrators’ response to the “Black Doreen” incident:

I brought that up in a meeting with the dean of the school and she said, “I’m overweight. So, when people make a fat joke, I assume that they’re talking about me.” She equated me actually hearing comments made about African Americans with her being insecure about her weight. She said maybe “you’re just paranoid” and stuff like that. And it never really got anywhere. So, that made me know that I couldn’t trust her.

This encounter ultimately contributed to Doreen’s decision to leave her school after her first year.

Sacrifice and Survival

I asked participants how they were able to reconcile remaining in and in the cases of Doreen and Sally, returning to their schools of music. All viewed their decision as an act of sacrifice. Many interpreted their experience as a necessary evil or means to a simple end—obtaining a degree from a reputable institution. When asked what advice she had for Black students interested in attending her school, Sally explained: “If they would like to go to a school with a really good program, and they’re able to put up with the mental acrobats, then go for it. Otherwise, it’s not worth it.” Common among all participants’ experiences was the concept of sacrificing comfort and mental health to be role models for Black students who might be interested in pursuing music.

Similarly, participants interpreted their experiences in their schools as something to survive. Taylor equated the experience of being Black in a PWSOM to crossing the “burning sands”—a term commonly used among members of fraternal organizations to describe the sometimes-grueling initiation process with the hopes of one day making it to the other side. Describing what it would mean to graduate from her PWSOM, Marian responded: “It would just be knowing that I persevered through this . . . I’ve made it through this. [This experience] will just get me ready for the real world.”

Recommendations for Practice

A thoughtful reflection on the systemic issues affecting the Black student experience in PWSOM should begin with the underrepresentation of Black students and faculty members. Faculty and administrators in PWSOM must examine their current recruitment practices in search of ways to diversify their student populations. While efforts to recruit may be successful, they will be rendered ineffective if PWSOM are not prepared to address the practices, policies, and interactions that perpetuate a dissonant existence for Black students. Predominantly White schools of music should conduct self-studies aimed at understanding the experiences of current and former Black students. Additionally, administrators in PWSOM must recognize the negative impact of such underrepresentation and actively work to recruit Black faculty members. These efforts may include recruiting Black graduates from their programs and fostering relationships with local HBCUs to widen the pool of applicants for faculty positions.

Much has been said about the presupposed superiority of the Western classical tradition and the subsequent invalidation of musics not of that tradition (Bradley, 2007; Kindall-Smith et al., 2011). The findings in this study support previous recommendations for schools of music to reconceptualize audition standards and what is considered as musical knowledge (Koza, 2008).

Participants actualized their existence through social interactions with White peers and professors. When participants encountered racism, they rarely felt safe enough to express concerns to White faculty and administrators. Predominantly White schools of music should institute systems through which students may confidentially report racial conflicts, free from fear of reprisal.

Considerations

Nine students participated in this hermeneutic phenomenological study. Each had experienced the phenomenon of being a Black undergraduate music education student at a PWSOM. It should be noted that the findings of this study are representative of these individuals’ experiences and are not necessarily representative of all Black undergraduate music education students in predominantly White schools of music.