Abstract
As you read this, the 2015 Symposium for Music Teacher Education, “Toward a Stronger, Richer Community,” has just concluded. It was, as always, a time to renew acquaintances, consider modified procedures, and perhaps, in an ideal world, encounter new ideas that might cause one to rethink current practice.
Routine Versus Thinking
The “rethinking” process has been on my mind lately. What causes one person to encounter a new idea or a new process and immediately begin considering how that new procedure might be modified to apply in his or her situation? What causes another person when encountering the same information to sit back and say, “I’m so glad we have it right. Those folks should do it our way”? The difference seems to involve openness to new thought versus the firm belief that new ideas aren’t needed because we already are correct. What causes some to seek out new ideas and others only to seek affirmation of their established routines? And how can experiences be designed so that both types of students (rule followers and risk takers) develop into effective teachers?
Perhaps a well-known poem, “Magic Carpet” by Shel Silverstein (1981) expresses the challenges most effectively: You have a magic carpet That will whiz you through the air, To Spain or Maine or Africa If you just tell it where. So will you let it take you Where you’ve never been before, Or will you buy some drapes to match And use it On your Floor?
There are some who simply modify very few things about an existing procedure (create wonderfully matching drapes), while others risk rather more significant changes (ride their magic carpet to new places). The poem warns about the trap of routine and repetition or as Randal Allsup (2010) summarizes, “Routines, after all, are mindless; conversations are mindful” (p. 234).
The trap of unthinkingly following a routine is why I am so reluctant to accommodate even highly qualified graduate students who beg for a system. “Tell me which system to follow so I will know what to do next.” I agree that there is a lot of security in a “system.” And a “system” may be a fast way for a beginning teacher to become reasonably effective initially. However, a “system” seems to imply that all school music students are the same and can be treated alike. Thus the danger of a “system” is that our teachers expect their students to fit the structure, rather than carefully analyzing what is going on and modifying the structure/system to fit the needs of those particular students. So I’d like to consider the balance between structure and risk, or between structure and observing, followed by thinking. To my mind it is the difference between “every seventh grader should be able to do this, thus this is what I will teach” versus “I will observe what my seventh graders can do and take them as quickly as possible to the next step.” The first is following a recipe. The second is observing what the students can do and taking them one step further. Following a recipe is relatively easy. Observing and deciding where students are and what they need next is infinitely more challenging. But ultimately, I believe that those learners who begin where they are and progress to the next step become effective musicians much faster. It does, however, take a leap of faith, a huge ability to observe, and a distinct sense of the sequence in which most humans learn music. In short, it demands individualized thinking on the part of the teacher. And it demands individualized thinking from we who prepare music teachers.
International Experiences to Consider Routine
My thoughts along these lines are informed by my recent experiences. Yesterday I finished teaching a summer graduate class, International Music Education, with the stated purpose of expanding the horizons of graduate students to include a more global view, and perhaps to evaluate their students’ current routines.
The class was developed as the result of two very personal experiences. In 2013 a group of doctoral students and I were privileged to travel to Uganda to speak to music educators from 12 African nations (Pan-African Society for Music Education) and where we were able to tour several schools in Kampala, Uganda. Wonderful people. Dedicated teachers. New friends. Then in summer 2015 I was again fortunate to travel with doctoral students to teach classes in the interior of China at the Southwest University for Nationalities in Chengdu where we met many educators, interacted with eager university students, and made new friends in a vastly different setting than we were accustomed. These personal encounters went so far beyond typical conference interactions that I wanted to find a way to encourage other graduate students to experience some of the same broadening situations. It seemed to the doctoral students involved in the travel that the most important reactions stemmed from actually meeting the people, both students and teachers. I wanted to design a class that might generate some of those same reactions. So from the beginning the class was about the reactions of the participants rather than any specific knowledge gained about each country.
We interviewed, either live or via videoconferencing, nine wonderful educators, some who were practicing pretertiary music educators and others who were university professors involved with teaching music educators. We asked each a series of questions we generated as a class, asking for clarification and details as appropriate. The interview task itself was fascinating, engaging, and thoroughly exhausting. Accents were sometimes difficult; working with a translator was occasionally challenging; scheduling was difficult due to differing time zones; international acronyms so prevalent in our profession were often confusing; and our initial understandings of the various curricular structures were convoluted at best, and simply incorrect at worst.
Following every extended interview, each graduate student wrote an individual reflection reacting to what he or she had just heard. Initially we discussed the fact that we were interviewing a single person in a single country, so speakers’ individual perceptions might or might not represent music education in an entire country For example, consider the task of summarizing U.S. music education and its challenges, or even in a single state. It would be difficult to present a broad perspective correctly. It would be much more likely to present accurately the part of music education you yourself have experienced. One of the most cogent statements about the problems of generalizing to the whole based on a single experience comes from a Ted Talk by Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (2009), titled “The Danger of a Single Story.” She eloquently warns of generalizing to different situations based on our own experiences, mentioning, for example, a roommate who wanted to hear some of the novelist’s favorite “tribal music” and was astonished to hear that her favorite was Mariah Carey. I recommend this Ted Talk most highly. It has many applications to the teaching of teachers, especially as related to helping teachers understand that their own students’ backgrounds might be different from their own and what the impact those differences might have in the classroom.
These differing perspectives can come from the mind of the person listening (expecting a Nigerian’s musical tastes to be vastly different from her own) or from the person explaining a perspective (e.g., a teacher in a privileged conservatory atmosphere in a third world country failing to mention anything except conservatory life).
From these interviews, we gained knowledge of the structure of schools within each country, the enthusiasm and dedication of teachers in the particular country, the pride of these educators, and their views of the challenges facing music education in their country. Most important, these interviews inspired us to examine our own curricular assumptions in a new light.
The interesting part, to me, was the reflective comments generated by my graduate students. Now these are very bright students who are experienced teachers at schools that are considered very effective, and who direct highly rated performance ensembles. So they each know “the system” in their states very well and have navigated it successfully. Interestingly they each responded very differently to the idea of what could be gained from hearing about a totally different system. Some seemed fascinated with different systems, especially how indigenous music is introduced and integrated within various curricula. They remarked on ensembles that were exclusively outside-of-school, rather than a major part of the school curriculum as is true in the states where they teach. They were further puzzled by the general lack of ensembles and the consequent emphasis on solo development. Keep in mind that I teach in Texas, where music ensembles receive full curricular credit and are the chief way secondary music is delivered. They were intrigued by requirements to become certified in at least two subjects, since one could seldom teach solely music. They were concerned about lack of teacher certification in some settings. They wrestled with the role of rote learning rather than notation, especially as related to indigenous music. All this caused most to consider the role of ensembles and the emphasis on indigenous music that involved entire communities as well as school students. Several wondered how to incorporate what they viewed as a very healthy idea (ensembles involving both students and community members performing indigenous music learned by rote). Others were more hesitant and seemed reluctant to deal with different systems until we encountered a culture that used ensembles. “Finally, someone who emphasizes ensembles. Hooray for them.” In other words, a student might seem to admire the cultures most like his or her own. “I believe we have it right, and it’s gratifying that others are joining us.” That ethnocentric view (evaluating other peoples and cultures according to the standards of one’s own culture) is probably natural for all of us. However, it is of concern to me to the extent that this worldview might make it difficult for us to learn anything from a new culture. Of course, it is entirely possible (even likely) that I am interpreting the student words incorrectly, but it certainly gave me pause and thus generated my thoughts in this editorial. I am certainly grateful to those students who made me consider my own stand on diverse perspectives.
My advice: Travel as much as you can. Avoid being a tourist (although the pandas in Chengdu were wonderful and the African artifact museum in Uganda was not to be missed). Instead, make your travel about meeting people, observing schools, talking with your music educator counterparts about their curriculum, the structure they work within, and the challenges they face. As always, the real learning is about the people. Let the noneducators be tourists. We educators can benefit more from our contacts with diverse perspectives. I urge further consideration of international music education.