Abstract
Publicly funded schools are supposed to serve everyone equally in egalitarian, liberal democracies. In this paper we claim that school music ensembles fail, on the whole, to adequately reflect current socio-demographic patterns in both Canada and the United States. From a postcolonial perspective we attempt to problematize, with reference to political philosophy and educational theory, some of the fundamental issues of representation, autonomy, essentialism, and freedom as they relate to school music ensembles.
If we are what we do, and do repeatedly (Bowman, 2009), then the kinds of music and music making practices engaged with lead to becoming one kind of individual, community, and national identity, rather than another. School music thus holds a privileged position in identity formation – both individual and collective – insofar as curricular and instructional choices operate within a compulsory state institution. From a nation-building perspective, these choices may not be as problematic in less racially, ethnically, or culturally diverse countries than in pluralistic ones such as Canada and the United States, where increased immigration has forced a reexamination of what constitutes, or should constitute, the kinds of national identities fostered through schooling. 1 Understood here as a political socio-demographic construct referring to pluralistic populations, ‘multiculturalism’ is not only unavoidable in 21st century Canada and the United States, but is in fact often actively promoted. 2 Although there are indications that the forms and mediums of school music offerings in Canada and the United States are becoming more diverse, arguably in response, at least in part, to increased recognition of cultural differences, school music at the secondary level continues to be dominated by the choir-orchestra-band (COB) paradigm (see Regelski & Gates, 2009). While there is nothing necessarily inherent in traditional ensembles that excludes people from outside of a Western European heritage from participating in school music, research and experience indicate that school music ensembles too often do not mirror the socio-demographics of the society at large.
Based on our experiences as ensemble directors in Toronto, Canada, we problematize aspects of music education delivery in Canada and the United States from a postcolonial perspective that considers educational practices constitutive of individual subjectivity and collective identity (e.g., Willinsky, 1998). Through an examination of cultural difference, individual autonomy, and political philosophy, we interrogate how, in their failure to mirror socio-demographics, school music ensembles may or may not be considered a ‘problem’ from the perspective of state schooling. We argue that traditional school music ensembles fall short in their mandate on two counts. First, because secondary school ensembles generally do not reflect the wider socio-demographics of society, they cannot foster an inclusive sense of cultural identity. What is worse, the predominance of one form of music education delivery results in an implicit hierarchy between what might be labeled ‘sanctioned knowledge’ (that of the state) and ‘indigenous knowledge’ (typically that of visible minority groups). Second, state schools in Western democracies are assumed to operate on behalf of everyone equally; if non-Caucasian cultural groups do not partake in school music, schools serve only the values of the dominant majority.
‘You’d have open rehearsals and, well, that was all that came’
The authors hail from smaller communities in less populous regions in Canada – regions that are decidedly less diverse, by most measures, than many urban centers in the country. Upon moving to the Toronto area, we both took up positions directing traditional instrumental music ensembles (two bands, one orchestra, one jazz band) – university-based and non-university-based. Both of us had held prior personal criticisms of the COB school music paradigm prevalent in Canada and the United States, but these criticisms did not fully consider the problem of demographic representation in school music ensembles. Laying aside all other issues, one should expect that, if the COB paradigm is socially just, the students in public (state) school music programs should reflect the general demographics of society. This point did not occur to us while teaching in our previous communities, but was striking upon moving to what is now arguably one of the most ethnically/culturally diverse cities in the world. Periodic features in the Toronto Star have referred to the greater Toronto area as the ‘Rainbow City,’ and have labeled the geographic distribution of first languages in the area as ‘the language quilt.’ 3 Despite such reports of ethnic diversity in the area, our impression of music programs in Toronto area middle and high schools was that, except for a slightly higher Asian representation, performance ensembles largely looked no different and played pretty much the exact same repertoire as performance ensembles found in the less ethnically diverse communities with which we were familiar. Three of our four ensembles did not display much racial/ethnic diversity given the demographics of the region at large, leading us to question if are there systemic factors that prevent participation in school ensembles that is more reflective of societal demographics.
In the spring of 2007 we conducted separate but related studies examining issues of ensemble participation, subjectivity, and the connections between recreational and school music making. In each of the ensembles we conducted (two apiece), we randomly selected students from pools stratified according to age, gender, and instrumentation. Two ensembles were community based and two were connected with post-secondary institutions, although not with university schools or faculties of music. In total, 45 recreational music makers, ages 18–75, were interviewed. Although our studies did not originally center on issues of socio-demographic representation and cultural values, such themes arose, directly and indirectly, from the interviews.
Among the issues we explored in our interviews was the kind of music listened to in the family home. We discovered quite a difference between the musical interests of the ensemble members and that of their parents. Prior to the interviews, we often made the error of assuming that many ensemble members were involved in ‘their’ music – the music associated with their cultural heritage. We were wrong. In one of the ensembles in particular, students were first generation Canadian and although they were born of a particular heritage, they were not necessarily interested in traditional music of that culture. 4 Somewhat to our surprise, in many cases their parents were not either. We had fallen into the trap of essentialist thinking, attributing specific attributes or desires to people based on knowledge of such things as ethnicity, class, gender, et cetera. More precisely, we made assumptions about people based on our own limited knowledge and experience of the world. And yet, this left us with a dilemma. On the one hand we knew that our ensembles did not adequately reflect demographics at large, something that suggested to us that there is a problem with the COB paradigm. On the other hand, we could not simply assume that students of various ethnicities choose not to participate in the COB paradigm because they wished to practice musics of their particular heritage.
From a strictly pedagogical perspective, our impasse can be traced to two separate but related views about who people are or should be. That is, pedagogical practices are invariably predicated upon who the teacher believes the student is or should be. From one perspective, teachers often err, through lack of knowledge or lack of recognition, in assuming that all people share (or should share) values similar to their own. Emmanuel (2002), for example, examined pre-service music teachers’ talk regarding pre-existing beliefs and attitudes toward teaching in culturally diverse contexts. Her research suggests that teachers often have cultural backgrounds very different from their students, leading to problematic teaching practices. As she points out, ‘teachers often rely on their own personal experiences in trying to discover what their students know and can do. What is relevant for a White, female, middle class teacher is not necessarily relevant for her culturally diverse students’ (p. 4). In such cases, teachers fail to recognize difference and assume that students share or should share the values they wish to teach.
From another perspective, problems arise when teachers make decisions about who others are and/or should be based on stereotypical assumptions. Chow (1993), for example, discusses the problem of people not staying ‘within their frames’ (p. 28). She asks: ‘Is there a way of “finding” the native without simply ignoring the image, or substituting a “correct” image of the ethnic specimen for an “incorrect” one, or giving the native a “true” voice “behind” her “false” image?’ (p. 29). There is, in other words, a temptation to assume that individuals conform, or should conform, to preconceived notions based on such things as gender, sexuality, class, race, ethnicity, or even geography. One of us (Lynn) hails from Newfoundland and Labrador, a province associated with strong folk song traditions. In a presentation at ‘musica ficta: Lived Realities,’ held at the University of Toronto in 2008, she asked the audience:
What assumptions do we carry with us when we look into the faces of our students, particularly those belonging to visible minorities? What assumptions do we hold regarding people from abroad? Do we assume that because she is Asian that she listens to Asian music? Do we believe that because he is from the West Indies that he enjoys steel pan? What assumptions do you hold about me? From my own experience of being born and raised in a small town in Newfoundland, I have always found it incredible how many people assume that I know Newfoundland music, that I like Newfoundland music or that I partake in the experience of making Newfoundland music. It wasn’t until I left Newfoundland and moved to the United States to begin graduate school that I began listening, on occasion, to the music of my home province. I grew up listening to the Beatles, ABBA, Michael Jackson, and a list of classical orchestral music. I did not experience my first ‘kitchen party’
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until I was in university, and even that wasn’t what most would recognize as a traditional Newfoundland kitchen party. And to this day, I can honestly say I do not know the lyrics to a complete Newfoundland folksong.
Both cultural insensitivity and cultural essentializing are problematic – especially where the paternalism of schooling is involved. Is it acceptable for the music education profession to expect that all students, regardless of cultural background, should share our love of Grainger’s wind band music or the experience of a beautifully sung Bach chorale? 6 Or is it better to suggest that the girl from Trinidad and Tobago who is interested in the trumpet play something more ‘culturally appropriate’ such as steel pan? Must the boy from Ghana remain in his African frame by taking up drumming and dancing? When those in positions of power (e.g., teachers) argue that traditional bands and choirs are a form of unjust cultural imperialism, is this simply another modality of control that insists people have essences and that what is best for people is for them to stay within their frames?
Although not without its own set of problems, one might entertain the argument that all students should be exposed to Western European musical practices if, at a minimum, large ensembles better reflected community demographics. This does not appear to be the case, however. Carlow (2004) studied perceptions of immigrant students about their past musical experiences and compared these to their current experiences in school music programs in the United States through social and ethnic lenses. Recognizing the importance of music in adolescent lives, Carlow claims that
school music and school performing groups often represent only the majority, white, middle class, population . . . [M]inorities feel even less affiliated and less comfortable with the repertoire traditionally used in performing ensemble classes, and minorities are often underrepresented in these ensembles. (p. 14)
Carlow’s study echoes the findings of Stewart (1991), who found that visible minorities are usually underrepresented in traditional performance programs.
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These findings also appear supported by the visual representation in our ensembles and in our interview data. Shannon,
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a 40-year-old, long-time member of recreational bands and choirs who grew up in a less ethnically diverse community in the province of Ontario, provides an interesting perspective on the problem. Asked about her experiences in bands, she replied,
My high school was generally not ethnically diverse, it was pretty much White, Anglo-Saxon majority by far . . . But we also had a lot of refugee students from Vietnam. Not a single one of them were in the music program. There were probably at least 200 of them in the school but not one of them were [sic] involved in music. Maybe because a lot of them were just starting to learn English, or maybe, I don’t know if the culture . . . A lot of them were behind academically because of time spent in refugee camps so I think their families emphasized academics – so forget music. So my whole music program – totally 100% white. And the community bands that I played in – now, The Theashrou Symphonic Band – this is the most ethnically diverse organization I’ve ever been in. It used to be I’d be in others where, again, all white Anglo-Saxons, and not because there was any kind of, ‘hell we don’t want anybody else.’ It’s just that nobody else came. You’d have open rehearsals and, well, that was all that came.
Responses such as this caused us to reflect upon current practices in school music. In what ways might the present COB paradigm of music education in schools be exclusionary, for example? Is an open door really enough? What if the Vietnamese students to which Shannon referred were interested in music but did not desire to learn the clarinet or trombone? If we are all formed within social life by the practices with which we engage, then different practices ‘produce’ different people, exemplified so well in the postcolonial phrase, ‘the colonization of the mind’ (Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, as cited in Smith, 1999, p. 59). If we are a product not of race or ethnicity but of our specific activities, then engagement with Western-based musical practices such as large ensemble bands, orchestras, and choirs will tend to produce people according to the values of those particular musical practices. While we should not assume that individuals from particular cultural/ethnic groups should partake only of the practices (stereo)typically associated with that specific culture/ethnicity, it cannot be avoided that practices are not sustained without participants; witness, for example, the steady disappearance of various indigenous languages. For school music to offer, with very rare exceptions, only one form of musical engagement is to ensure its perpetuation to the exclusion of many other possible forms, producing, as a result, primarily one kind of musical being. More importantly, if the one form of musical engagement offered is of no perceived interested or value for people from minority cultures, is this not a form of music education cultural imperialism? Is it acceptable for mandatory schooling to perpetuate only one kind of musical practice, leaving the perpetuation of other musical practices to community culture bearers such as synagogues, private music schools, or community centers?
Several other questions arise from the problem of disproportionate socio-demographic representation in school music ensembles. For example, to what extent should music education offerings in schools reflect the ethnic composition and/or cultural values of the local community? To what extent should students be expected or encouraged to maintain the ‘traditional’ musical practices of their parents’ cultures? To what extent should public schools be expected to serve the wishes of their immediate communities? To what extent should all students, regardless of ethnicity, be expected to follow or learn a common (state) curriculum? (And, of course, what should such a curriculum consist of, and how should it be determined?) If the state’s or the profession’s intent is to foster a common national cultural/musical identity, how can this be achieved when large segments of the population (such as visible minorities) do not participate in non-compulsory school music offerings? While the answers to all these questions are exceedingly complex, we argue that the current monoculturalism of music education is reflective of a value structure that militates against full participation in school music. As a result, music education in Canada (and, we suspect, the United States and other Western countries) fails to adequately reflect current socio-demographics. To provide another vantage point on this difficult problem, we turn now to theories of educational and political philosophy.
Autonomy, freedom, and political philosophy
Thus far we have claimed that school music ensembles fail, on the whole, to adequately reflect current socio-demographic patterns in both Canada and the United States. We have also pointed out the dangers of simple prescriptions in response to this problem. Teachers can be said to be culturally insensitive in assuming that all students should share the dominant musical values propagated by school music. It is also dangerous, however, to assert that visible minorities should not participate in the COB paradigm based on preconceived notions of who people from various cultural backgrounds are or should be. Another way to examine this issue is to consider schooling in the context of educational and political philosophy. A significant tradition in Western philosophy, for example, posits autonomy as central to being human (Taylor, 1989). There are at least two views on autonomy in educational discourse; it is thought to be either a pre-existing natural state of all people, or an end state toward which education should be oriented (Devine & Irwin, 2005). Both of these conceptions of autonomy have helped inform state schooling. These positions are significantly different, yet rarely distinguished. If, for example, autonomy is a fundamental condition of all people, then all that is needed to ensure it flourishes are the necessary conditions. Thought of as freedom from, all people are considered to be autonomous and therefore have the natural right to develop their personalities in their own way free from coercion (Hirst & Peters, 1970, p. 34; Taylor, 1989, p. 12). The emphasis is on eliminating all forces that impinge on the liberty – or rights – of individuals. That is, all one needs is a political arrangement, such as a form of liberal democracy, that will not interfere with the ‘natural order’: autonomous, unencumbered individuals operating freely in accord with everyone else.
Educationalists such as Kenneth Strike, R. F. Dearden, Paul Hirst and R. S. Peters suggest that autonomy is the result of a nurtured rationale capacity (Devine & Irwin, 2005; Olssen, 2005). In this view, people are not necessarily inherently autonomous, but are made that way through the educative process of turning incomplete (i.e., not yet rational) individuals into complete ones. Thought of as freedom to, the autonomous freedom of choice is said to be predicated upon the ability to choose from among known alternatives. Conceived in this way, education for freedom and autonomy is about making aware. As Hirst and Peters put it, education ‘consists in putting people in the way of values of which they have never dreamt’ (1970, p. 19; see also Entwistle, 1993). Notably some things are implied as more important than others. It should be immediately apparent that these two senses of freedom are potentially in conflict with each other, as there seems no easy way to distinguish the provision of choices (‘putting people in the way of values’) from acts of coercion (deciding what ‘values’ are chosen for exposure and on what grounds).
At the risk of over-simplification, it is necessary to briefly sketch out two basic tenets of Western political philosophy in order to better understand how music education in schools might be considered just or unjust in the context discussed here. These tenets, nuanced beyond what we can present in this space, tend to reduce to either the right – as in political theory that espouses individual liberty (rights and freedoms) – and the good – as in political perspectives that advocate normative definitions of ‘the good life.’ For those who defend individual liberty, the good life cannot be determined by others since, by definition, autonomous individuals cannot, or should not, be subject to the desires or preferences of others. According to communitarian perspectives, however, individual conceptions of the good life are impossible outside of a social framework; it is only through social interaction that such conceptions might develop.
Although the political position of the right defends the autonomy of people to their own version of the good life, this begs the question of how given conceptions of the good life arise. To assert any particular version of the good life outside of a social context would seem to require claiming that certain things in life are inherently (and thus universally) preferable to others. Postcolonial theory generally posits that these types of claims, evident in Enlightenment humanism, have been used to rationalize many colonialist projects. An example of this in music education is Harry Broudy’s (1972) concept of enlightened cherishing, which suggests that developing an appreciation of certain musics leads to a desired version of the good life. Notably, enlightened cherishing seems to depend upon engaging with music embodying values claimed as universal and transcendent, even though many of these purported values seem to be found only in music of Western European heritage. Most social construction theories tend to reject such universal humanist claims, stressing the situatedness of meaning and value. This does not necessarily entail an outright rejection of the right (or Western European musical values), however. Instead, emphasizing immanence and historical context simply raises the question of whether or not it is acceptable for nation states to advocate that any given conception of the good should be common to all. Taylor describes the problem as the difference between the ‘right to do’ and ‘good to be’ (1989, p. 3).
As Curtis (1988, 1992) has argued, nation states such as Canada have historically used education to condition subjectivity while simultaneously espousing individual liberty. While many liberal democracies invoke the language of rights and freedoms, suggestive of the right, a closer look reveals that the good is never far below the surface. That is, while many liberal democracies formally operate on the basis of individual rights and freedoms, they also invoke, through institutions such as schools, shared visions of good to be – even when couched in the language of right to do.
One sees evidence of this in Canada’s Multicultural Act, for example, one objective of which is to ‘benefit and promote the understanding that multiculturalism reflects the cultural and racial diversity of Canadian society and [acknowledge] the freedom of all members of Canadian society to preserve, enhance and share their cultural heritage’ (Canadian Multiculturalism Act, 1988, sect. 3.1a). A more explicit example of the common good – albeit one that is in conflict with Canada’s Multicultural Act – is illustrated by a small town in the province of Quebec, which created a media frenzy and fiery national debate in 2007 with its Publication of Standards.
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The mayor and counselors, with support from the community, provided the following rationale for what has become known as the Hérouxville Code:
So that the future residents can integrate socially more easily, we have decided unanimously to make public certain standards already in place and very well anchored in the lives of our electors. These standards come from our municipal laws being Federal or Provincial, and all voted democratically. They also come from the social life and habits and customs of all residents of our territory. (www.municipalite.herouxville.qc.ca/Standards.pdf, accessed January 5, 2008)
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It appears the community recognized that they would see growing numbers of immigrants move into their community and attempted to protect their values, traditions and customs by making clear that newcomers should expect to assimilate to the existing order, foregoing cultural practices that deviate from established norms. This rationale makes appeals, in part, to laws. The community, in other words, claimed to have the right to enact, through democracy, what is clearly a specific (and arguably xenophobic) vision of the good. Accordingly, anyone could apparently be a free citizen of Hérouxville – as long as they conformed to existing standards of ‘proper’ conduct. The comparisons to schooling are obvious: students are free to participate in music – as long as they conform to existing standards of what constitutes musical engagement. The difference between schools and Hérouxville, however, is that people could choose to live somewhere else; students usually do not have that kind of alternative with their school music options.
Conclusion: Is the lack of choice a form of coercion?
As we have discussed, schooling, as a state institution, cannot avoid dealing with the issues of the right and the good. To many people, a ‘common curriculum’ embodying aspects of the good is thought necessary not just for social cohesion, but for social functioning. To the extent that curricula can be said to develop ‘autonomy,’ education can be said to fulfill certain tenets of the right. As Michel Foucault (1990, 1995) has so trenchantly argued, however, traditional liberal notions of freedom and autonomy are largely illusory. We are constituted by and through disciplinary practices (such as schooling). Western-style large ensemble music making produces very different people than traditional Canadian First Nations drum circles, for example. Such things as higher and lower order desires are not facts of human nature, but aspects of our being that are produced through our social practices.
As we have also discussed, issues of essentialism, values and choice are complex; conflicts are inevitable. What we find disturbing is the glaring silence that seems to meet what should be a vibrant conversation within the music education community. While we have mostly discussed experiences from our Canadian context, we see these issues extending far beyond the Canadian border. While Canada does have an official policy of multiculturalism, many Western nations have experienced high levels of immigration, heightening the possibility for cultural conflict as communities assert various versions of the good, and invoke the rhetoric of rights and freedoms. Schools are powerful sites for cultural induction, and hence a frequent object of those who desire to perpetuate particular visions of who people should be, both individually and collectively.
There is an obvious tension present in schooling’s relationship to the right, the good, and personal autonomy. The structuring of choices has an unavoidable political element. Considered as a nurtured capacity, children are deemed not ready for the responsibility of making rational (autonomous) choices. Therefore, it is thought acceptable to place limits on their freedom in order to, somewhat paradoxically, develop their rational capacity for autonomy. It is often assumed that caregivers – parents and teachers – have been granted the right to restrict the freedom of children based on the paternalistic belief that parents and teachers know what is ‘best’ for the child. While this may be relatively unproblematic (although not entirely so) in the teaching of subjects like mathematics, the teaching of cultural values (through music education, for example) would seem to represent a flashpoint for conflicts over issues of the good – especially in an officially ‘multicultural’ country such as Canada. The teaching of music is always presumed to be good for students, even though school music is, at least in Canada and the United States, based almost exclusively on Western European musical values. Music teachers typically choose repertoire that is said to be good (or great), 11 with the understanding that exposure to ‘good’ repertoire will in some way benefit students. Those who refuse to accept or endorse such repertoire are often punished (through grades or exclusion) or simply cast as deficient in some way; they are said to have not yet developed proper musical appreciation or taste. While it can be argued that such practices promote ‘putting people in the way of values of which they have never dreamt,’ they do not offer alternatives. As a result, they fail to acknowledge or respect pluralism.
One wonders, then, if music educators are guilty of assimilationist practices similar to that of the Hérouxville Code. Although repertoire choices are usually couched in terms of art, beauty, and expressive import, is this not simply code: experts – those who teach in universities – have decreed that Western art music is the best (it has stood ‘the test of time’), and if you wish to learn music in schools you will forego whatever musics you already know and adapt to the existing canonic order? Is the refusal of music teacher ‘training’ to genuinely embrace musical practices outside of the Western canon the result of some form of music education ‘code’ akin to the Hérouxville Code? Do those in university schools of music fear losing the hegemony of art music in the face of increasing demographic diversity and complexity? If demographic changes in society render the COB paradigm no longer relevant to individuals or their community, does the music education profession persist in its perpetuation despite the expanding list of feasible alternatives? On what grounds might such a position be defended in publicly funded state schooling in a multicultural society? Although stated in terms of parenting rather than schooling, Dhillon and Halstead summarize well the problem of the right and the good and its intersection with subject formation:
the right of parents [or teachers] to bring their children up within their own worldview and the right of groups to maintain their distinctive cultural identity are central to any concept of multiculturalism, but liberal individualism also protects the right of children as they grow older to free themselves if they choose from the cultural practices and worldview of their parents. The liberal refusal to align itself with any determinate version of the good ensures that the liberal state accepts pluralism as an underlying principle, welcomes diversity, and adopts a stance of neutrality on controversies to do with the good life, while at the same time supporting the value of personal autonomy by leaving individuals free to pursue their own vision of the good, and free from both cultural domination by the majority and cultural ghettoization within a minority group. (Dhillon & Halstead, 2003, pp. 152–153)
What Dhillon and Halstead do not address is the intersection between private and public. While it may be true that proponents of the right remain agnostic on issues of the good, Dhillon and Halstead appear to suggest that the development of a worldview and/or cultural identity takes place only in the home. But how neutral can one be regarding the good when specific cultural values in common schooling are practiced to the exclusion of others? While it is admirable to claim that children are accorded the right to free themselves from the values of their parents (or their teachers) as they grow older, one is left wondering what alternative values might be known to children (freedom to) given the compulsory and common element of state schooling. To put this in the context of music education, while children may be free to pursue all manner of musical options after graduation from high school, school music has equipped them, in most cases, with very specific skills, knowledge, and dispositions (i.e., a specific conception of the good) which will likely bear on all future choices. The rational choices of students can hardly be said to be autonomous in such cases, as music education has inculcated a very one-dimensional view of what music is or should be, and who they are or should be.
In light of our discussion, we propose the following regarding the large ensemble performance paradigm in state schooling: (1) large ensemble music making in the form of concert bands and choirs in schools cannot be automatically dismissed as a bad (or unjust) practice if (a) the individual’s right to choose is respected; for those in the ‘dominant class’ to label large ensembles in schools as oppressive or some form of cultural imperialism (i.e., that minority groups would be somehow better off by sustaining their own existing cultural values) is, in fact, to adopt a paternalistic orientation that suggests, in violation of the right, one person knows what is better for someone else; or (b) the nation’s vision of the good is predicated on Western European-based musical values and assimilation is preferred to cultural pluralism; or (2) the exclusive offering of large ensemble music making in the form of bands, orchestras, and choirs in schools is a bad (or unjust) practice if: (a) the right is endorsed over the good; on this view, exclusively offering one form of music education fails to develop in students the right to exercise rational choice because alternatives are never presented; it also advances and imposes, in violation of tenets of liberalism, a specific conceptualization of the good based exclusively on the values of Western European art music; or (b) the national vision of the good not just allows for, but promotes (officially or tacitly) cultural plurality.
As is likely obvious, we lean in favor of option two. If one endorses the view that freedom (as autonomy) is not just freedom from but freedom to, then students must be given some knowledge of musical alternatives from which they might choose. The cultural playing field can hardly be said to be level if certain musical practices are included in the common curricula of state-funded schools while other practices are not. Perhaps if ensembles more adequately reflected socio-demographics one might overlook the obvious cultural imperialism present in the music education paradigm by appealing to various aspects of the right or the good. Given its failure to adequately reflect the make-up of society, however, the music education profession needs to confront the possibility that greater diversity of offerings is needed. Instead of viewing such a diffusion of offerings as a weakness, we suggest that a breakdown of the current music education paradigm in Canada and the United States would be a strength, opening up music education to a broader, more inclusive range of participants, helping to remove the colonial shackles and elitist baggage that too often prevents wider participation and acceptance among the broader community. It would also be a small step in the direction of recognizing cultural diversity as a strength rather than a threat. Publicly funded schools are supposed to serve everyone equally in egalitarian, liberal democracies. How much longer will music educators maintain their complicity in sustaining the status quo?
