Abstract
Don’t forget who you are and where you come from.
To reflect on roots and the trees they support is to contemplate our own origins. What are your roots? How have they grown? Recently I’ve been thinking about life paths and why I chose (or was encouraged to choose) a particular route. You might want to do the same. Who influenced your decisions? I would urge you to identify those influential people and talk to them about how they affected your life. Do it now while you have a chance to say those words in person.
And to carry the roots metaphor a bit further, let’s examine trees more closely. In my home in semi-arid West Texas, trees are a precious commodity. There are relatively few trees on the prairie, and the ones we have must be strong and resilient. Every tree is valued and carefully tended. These trees are hardy, gnarled, and must have deep root systems. In fact, according to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, the mesquite tree, quite common in this area, can have taproots as deep as 160 feet, although the tree itself is relatively short, growing 10 to 50 feet tall. Yet frequently various kinds of trees in my area are uprooted during intense winds.
On the other hand, the sequoia trees that thrive along the tree-filled West Coast are seldom uprooted despite their extreme height. How can this be? A 2013 NBC news report of the sequoia measurement project as reported in National Geographic Magazine (December 2012) provides some insight into the sequoia. The report concludes that the sequoia is one of largest trees (by mass) on earth. The particular one being measured is 27 feet in diameter, 247 feet tall, and has 2 billion leaves. Despite a remarkably shallow root system (16–20 feet), this particular tree is 3200 years old. For a sense of the remarkable size of this tree, the NBC video is well worth watching because, as always, pictures carry more information than text (http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2012/12/01/15600980-giant-sequoia-takes-over-as-worlds-second-biggest-tree?lite).
So now we come to the point of this entire discussion about trees and their roots. How have trees that are 200+ feet tall survived for more than 3000 years without a deep taproot? Answer: Their roots grow laterally and tangle and intertwine with the roots of other sequoias to form a matted, extremely strong foundation. They depend on each other. This bears repeating: They depend on each other for their very existence.
So what are our roots? Who are we connected with? This train of thought was triggered for me personally by the death in April 2013 of Dr. Paul Haack, professor of music education at the University of Kansas for 22 years and then at the University of Minnesota for 19 more. His obituary appears in http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/startribune/obituary.aspx?n=paul-a-haack&pid=164531846#fbLoggedOut. He was much loved by many and I know he will be sorely missed by family, friends, and colleagues. My own contact with Paul Haack came when I was an undergraduate. He arrived at the University of Kansas in 1966 with a shiny new PhD from the University of Wisconsin, and of course, everyone was just a little bit in love with the new young professor. I arrived at University of Kansas as a transfer undergraduate that same year, so I must have had some of his first classes. His classes were simply wonderful and truly turned my head toward becoming an educator instead of being a performing soprano (thank goodness). His classes were inspiring and engaging, and his curricular ideas were the reason I went into teaching in the first place, and specifically into teaching junior high general music instead of high school choirs. Truly I trace my own academic roots back to Dr. Haack’s influential classes. I’m happy to say that our paths crossed many times since undergrad days as we met at conferences, and I think I did once tell him once how much he had influenced my thoughts. But I didn’t tell him nearly as often as I spent time thinking about those initial inspiring courses. I wish I had.
Like many other schools, early in the music education curricular sequence we ask our undergraduates to write a letter to the person who influenced their music education decisions. The assignment is an effective springboard to a discussion about the profession they are entering and why they want to do so. But as teacher educators, do we do the same? I urge each of us to consider who inspired us, and then tell them of their influence. Put into words (either written or spoken) why that person is significant to you. It will, no doubt, be meaningful to them, but I believe it will also be even more beneficial to you personally as you consider your roots and the connections we all have with each other.
Be like the sequoias. Connect on a deep root level. And hold tight to those connections, both ones you view as influential to your own development and to those between you and your students. Creating and maintaining connections are part of our job as we prepare effective future music educators.
One way to connect, professionally and personally, is at the
Incidentally, the sequoia measurement project also found that, unlike previously believed, Sequoias do not grow more slowly as they age. In fact, they grow faster, put on more leaves, absorb more carbon dioxide, and create greater amounts of oxygen than younger trees. In other words, they become more and more productive with age. Somehow, each of us of a certain age might find that thought very reassuring. I know I do.
All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
Connections in This Issue: Transition From Student to Teacher
As preparers of future music educators, we are intimately involved with assisting music education students to progress from student to professional educator. What factors, if any, expedite those changes? Do our students ultimately teach the way they’ve learned during methods classes? Or do they teach the way they were taught as high school musicians? Do our carefully constructed methodology classes, field experiences or student teaching actually result in student changes? The first three articles in this issue consider these questions and our existing knowledge about novice music educators as they transition from student to teacher. Thanks to Colleen Conway for conceiving of this grouping. The three articles were written as connected essays and are best understood when read as a group.
In the first article, Peter Miksza and Margaret Berg explore the research related to teacher growth and the various theoretical frameworks that have been used to evaluate and contextualize teacher development. Miksza and Berg base their ideas on existing general education research but note that some unique aspects of music may call for different approaches. Readers will enjoy the extensive review of literature, in particular a listing of the factors that distinguish the challenges of music teachers from those of traditional classroom teachers. Margaret Schmidt discusses the research base concerning what preservice music teachers believe about teaching and the interactions between those held beliefs and actual practice. Finally, Tami Draves concludes with a summarization of the existing research on music student teachers. I would urge all of us involved with teacher preparation to study these articles, peruse the reviews of literature they provide, and in particular carefully consider the further research areas as identified by these authors. As Miksza and Berg state, “Research on preservice music teacher development has the potential to inform music teacher preparation curricula in several significant ways and ultimately serve to enhance the profession at large” (p. 10).