Exploring Diverse Voices in the Classroom

In a recent report from Pew Research Center, ¹ it is indicated that immigrants make up 13.6% of this nation’s population. Compared to 50 years ago, when immigration was lower in number and mostly concentrated to five major urban cities, today the nation’s foreign-born population is estimated to be over 44 million and has become more dispersed. Despite the long history of immigration, racial tensions and xenophobia remain major issues in our society. It begs the question how we as teachers create space for different voices to be formed and heard while fostering mutual understanding and respect among students of different cultural origins.

As music teachers, one aspect for us to consider is to take a critical eye on the music materials used in the classroom. The curricula we choose carry specific cultural values and illustrate a particular way of seeing the world. To avoid the perpetuation of unequal social relations and the silencing of nondominant cultures, music education researchers have called for the inclusion of diverse music cultures in the classroom. You might wonder, “But exactly how do we choose the music materials and what should be included/excluded in our programs? Wouldn’t the inclusion of music work from different cultures in our concert repertoire suffice?” Several music educators caution against “topic du jour” approach to introduce musical practices from around the world (Bradley, 2007). Deborah Bradley (2007) describes the practice that “classes study and perform music from another culture, viewed through a lens that suggests that people of that culture somehow need ‘rescuing’ and resulting in a perceived need to ‘do something. . .’” (p. 133) is often misconstrued as an act of charity posing as social justice. She argues (and I concur) that without critically examining the assumptions embedded in these music materials, “Our music education curricula continue to validate and recognize particular (white) bodies, to give passing nods to a toke few “others” (p. 134), and to invalidate many more through omission. Charlene Morton (2010) also advocates a critical approach to multiculturalism and problematizes “musical tourism—a token form of multicultural education that showcases soundscapes from around the world,” and argues that it “fails to provide spaces to foster intercultural understanding, critical dialogue or sociopolitical action” (p. 203).

Recalling my own experience as a public school music teacher, I remember struggling over the selection of music materials that are relevant and meaningful to my students. How do I create a space that acknowledges the diverse cultures of my students but also leaves room for exploration? As a person of Chinese descent, I am well aware that one’s musical identity does not necessarily align with the appeared racial/ethnic identity, not to mention the fluidity and variety of one’s musical interest. Surely my intention here is not to discourage music teachers to stop incorporating diversity in the curriculum altogether but to acknowledge the complexity and multiplicity of how diversity plays out in human experiences.

In this column, I would like to share one approach that I found useful in exploring diversity in the classroom. I suggest that instead of choosing repertoire based on students’ apparent racial/ethnic identity, teachers create a space that allows students to form their voice and hear each other’s voice in the classroom. This idea was inspired by the concept “funds of knowledge,” coined by a group of education scholars in Arizona (Gonzalez & Moll, 2002; Moll, Amanti, Neff, & Gonzalez, 1992). Gonzalez and Moll (2002) suggest that “funds of knowledge [are] based on a simple premise . . . that people are competent and have knowledge and their life experiences have given them that knowledge” (p. 625). Following this thread of thought, I found that students’ musical engagements outside the classroom act as “funds of knowledge” and could potentially serve as materials for critical discussions on diversity. From my own work with immigrant students, I found that the music students engage with beyond the classroom often renders meaningful conversations related to issues of diversity, for example, race, gender, class, ability, and so on. Even if students’ choices don’t always include music materials from their home culture, the music that they value often speaks to them in ways that may not be captured through language but provides them a sense of solidarity in their formation of self and learning about the world.

Below I would like to propose a few curricular ideas that invite students to bring in their musical “funds of knowledge”:

I think it’s important for music teachers to acknowledge the variety of students’ choices and to not impose presumptions about the value of their music preferences. I learned this from my own experiences. I remember a sixth-grade male student included a parody version of the song “Let It Go” from Disney’s movie Frozen and also opening music from the Japanese anime, Fairy Tail, on his music playlist. While my initial urge was to dismiss his seemingly mischievous response and asked him to include other songs, my follow-up conversations with him about his music choice helped me recognize his social struggles as the only Vietnamese American student at the school, his lack of support at home, and how his access to anime offered him the strength to feel connected with the rest of the world. These are some elements too common in immigrant students’ daily life but are seldom discussed in school discourse.

By encouraging students to bring in their own materials, teachers not only provide students the space to reflect and create their own voice but also afford students the opportunity to recognize and respect different voices.