Abstract
Photo of Lisa Martin courtesy of the author
I am humbled to step into the role of academic editor and chair of the editorial and advisory committees of Music Educators Journal, and I’m grateful to my colleagues for their trust and support in this endeavor. In particular, I am indebted to Doug Orzolek, Corin Overland, Michele Kaschub, and Ella Wilcox, each of whom have offered generous mentorship and wisdom over the years. I am also honored to have Amy Bradley join the team as our new editor at the National Association for Music Education. We are remarkably fortunate to have her guidance and expertise. This journal’s function and value rests on the service of countless educators. Working with MEJ is a joy, a challenge, and a privilege. Through it, I have developed an even deeper regard for our community, and I continue to learn so much from those in our profession.
When we find ourselves in new roles and new seasons of our lives, it seems natural to reflect upon the moments, stories, and even habits of mind that brought us to such points of transition. In my own sphere, I find myself taking inventory of learning processes both in and out of the classroom and, more specifically, how the processes of unlearning and relearning are central to both our students’ growth and our own.
I recently attended a keynote given by Dr. Jeffrey Sun of the University of Louisville, who shared insights on building equitable, accessible, and meaningful learning environments. In his address, he centralized the essentiality of building upon students’ prior learning in this process. While such an approach is certainly not revolutionary, he highlighted a critical distinction that centers on the relationship between learning and unlearning.
In essence, when educators build on prior learning, they might begin with the thought, “OK, this is what this student knows. I now need to build from that foundation and extend that knowledge.” What this approach does not consider, though, is that sometimes prior learning includes misinformation, misconceptions, or improperly extended understandings that may lead to faulty connections. This means the learning process might begin with a bit of . . . demolition. In other words, we might often start with unlearning.
As teachers, it is delicate work to address students’ misunderstandings while upholding the value of past experiences, divergent ways of knowing, and students’ core identities. Worth noting, however—when considering misunderstandings in the classroom, teachers often default to centralizing those of our students, rather than turning the lens toward ourselves to consider our own misconceptions.
Mark Bonchek of Harvard Business Review described unlearning as “the ability to choose an alternative mental model or paradigm,” going on to say, “When we learn, we add new skills or knowledge to what we already know. When we unlearn, we step outside the mental model in order to choose a different one.” 1 Indeed, it is complex to address our own misunderstandings as teachers, musicians, and citizens, but reimagining and rewiring are inherent in meaningful growth. As Randall Allsup shared in a 2015 MEJ article, “Teachers are at their best when they are on the edge of knowing and unknowing, learning and unlearning.” 2
Unlearning is difficult, vulnerable work. Given the deeply personal connections teachers have with their work, noticing and naming opportunities for change can be messy and heavy.
It is also necessary.
The viewpoints of Allsup, Bonchek, and others prompt us to look inward for our own opportunities to unlearn. When was the last time one of our perspectives on a given approach, ideal, system, or philosophy was disrupted? Did this disruption go beyond a disturbance, toward a dismantling? Have certain revelations caused our practice or perspective to fundamentally change as a result? Why or why not? Do we avoid disruption, consciously or unconsciously, in favor of self-preservation, or a preservation of some other thing?
Moving through my career, I find myself increasingly secure in seeking honest answers to these and other questions to meet and address my own instances of misinformation or maladapted understandings of the world around me. Perhaps one of the more notable unlearnings I’ve experienced came through uncoupling myself from prior beliefs surrounding what success and excellence look and sound like in music education. During my years as a K–12 student musician and into the early years of my teaching career, I developed a rather narrow aperture for what characterized a “strong” music program, which included beliefs about the perceived value and seeming necessity of competition in school music education. Over the years, the textures and context of varied experiences both in and out of the classroom have illuminated a kaleidoscope of possibilities for the what and how of effective, powerful music education.
Still, in a world fixated on discrete finish lines and arrival points, and in a society that often values assuredness and consistency over wonderment and change, efforts to unlearn can be daunting and uncomfortable. As music educators, we must continue to remember that “education is a constant reorganizing or reconstructing of experience,” 3 both for our students and for ourselves.
So, whereas we all might open the latest MEJ to first seek what we might learn, I am also hopeful that MEJ opens opportunities for us all to question, reevaluate, and redirect our practices.
In the years ahead, I look forward to learning—and unlearning—with each of you.