Attrition of Undergraduate Music Education Students of Color: A Multiple Case Study

Participants

Because potential participants were former students who left the pathway toward the music teaching profession, they were unlikely to be active within current music teaching networks, organizations, forums, or online communities where participation in this study could be more directly solicited. Therefore, after receiving approval from my university’s Institutional Review Board, I recruited potential participants using a) criterion sampling (Patton, 2014) to find students of color who entered college as music education majors but left programs prior to graduation and b) intensity sampling (Patton, 2014) to seek participants whose experiences reflected a strong relationship to the quintain. I set a target of six to eight participants, consistent with previous case studies in music education research that have explored identity and marginalization in collegiate programs (e.g., Bryant, 2022; Fiorentino, 2020; Regus, 2025). I contacted music education faculty, high school music teachers, and others in my personal and professional networks, explaining the purpose of the study and eligibility criteria: students of color who entered college as music education majors but left programs prior to graduation. Colleagues who indicated that they had former students who fit the criteria then contacted these individuals to gauge their interest in the study.

I screened potential candidates according to the following: that each participant’s experiences would (a) be relevant to the research questions, (b) provide diversity across other participants, and (c) offer an opportunity to learn about their shared experience across different contexts (Stake, 2006). Ultimately, seven participants enrolled in the study, each of whom attended different undergraduate music education programs in seven different states in the Midwest, South, and Southwest.

Each participant entered college with the intention of becoming a music teacher; six participants left their programs prior to graduation. One participant graduated with a degree in music education but opted against completing her teaching certification, the ultimate goal of the program, and therefore her experiences fell within my operational definition of programmatic attrition. For the other six participants, two dropped out of college, three graduated with other music degrees, and one graduated with a major outside of music. At the time of the study, no participants had any immediate plans to pursue a career as a music teacher. Two participants were graduate students in music performance, and the other five were employed in a variety of occupations. All participants attended public universities: four attended PWIs, one attended an HSI, one attended an HBCU, and one began at an HBCU before transferring to a PWI. Finally, although participants were specifically recruited for this study as former music education students of color, all participants self-identified as coming from low-income backgrounds, and all but one participant were first-generation college students. Table 1 provides a description of participants, all of whom chose pseudonyms.

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Table 1.

Participant Descriptions.

Name	Self-identified race/ ethnicity	Self-identified pronouns	Institution	Attended college	Primary instrument/ intended teaching area	Progress toward an undergraduate degree	Current occupation
Christopher	Puerto Rican	He/Him	Large public midwestern PWI	6–10 years ago	Percussion/ Band	Left college after the first year	U.S. Postal Service Mail Carrier
Caleb	Black	He/Him	Large public midwestern PWI	1–5 years ago	Voice/Choir	Left music education program after two years, graduated with a B.M. in Music Performance and a B.A. in Theater Performance	Graduate Student in Music Performance
Jasmine	Black	She/Her	Large public southern PWI	1–5 years ago	Clarinet/ Band	Left college during the fourth year	Nail Technician
Michelle	Black	She/They	Large public southern PWI	1–5 years ago	Flute/Band	Left the music education program after three years, graduated with a B.A. in Music	Graduate Student in Music Performance
Salma	Mexican & Puerto Rican	She/Her	Large public southwestern his	1–5 years ago	Flute/Band	Graduated with a B.M. in Music Education without certification	Restaurant Manager
Ray	Black	He/Him	Small public southern HBCU/ Large public midwestern PWI	16–20 years ago	Saxophone/ Band	Transferred from HBCU to PWI and left music education after one year, graduated with a B.A. in Communication	Higher Education Administrator
Gi’Anni	Black	He/Him	Medium-sized public southwestern HBCU	1–5 years ago	Percussion/ Band	Left music education program after four years, graduated with a B.A. in Recording Management	Truck Driver

Data Collection

I developed semi-structured interview protocols to guide two rounds of interviews with participants. The first consisted of open-ended questions to explore participants’ experiences in their programs, their reasons for both entering and leaving the major, and their reflections on coursework, identity, relationships, and support. In the second, I asked follow-up questions for clarification and elaboration and explored emergent topics with participants (see Supplementary Materials for protocols). When investigating a phenomenon of interest, Seidman (2013) recommends a three-interview series: (a) focused life history, (b) the details of experience, and (c) reflection. However, Seidman also acknowledged that conducting three interviews may not be feasible and encouraged researchers to adapt the structure as long as “participants [may] reconstruct and reflect upon their experience” (p. 25). Because the purpose of this study was to explore and reflect on details of a particular experience, I condensed the process into two interviews, focusing on life history and details in the first interview, and reflection in the second.

I conducted the initial round of interviews between March 2021 and December 2021, which ranged from 42 to 56 min. I then conducted follow-up interviews between June 2022 and February 2023, which ranged from 25 to 55 min. Interviews were primarily over Zoom, except for one in-person interview, which I recorded using an external audio recorder. After each interview, I uploaded audio files to Otter.ai (2024), where I listened back and edited interview transcripts until they accurately reflected the content of the interviews. In total, I conducted 602 min of interviews, yielding 190 pages of single-spaced transcripts.

Data Analysis

I uploaded each interview transcript to MaxQDA (2022) for analysis. For my initial within-case analysis, I began by in vivo coding to center the experiences of participants in their own words (Saldaña, 2014). Then, because this study focused on students’ reasons for leaving their programs, I engaged in process coding to capture “ongoing action/interaction/ emotion taken in response to situations, or problems, often with the purpose of reaching a goal or handling a problem” (Corbin & Strauss, 2008, pp. 96–97). Next, to begin the cross-case analysis, I used pattern coding (Saldaña, 2014) to develop themes related to causes and explanations, organizing codes into 14 categories. Finally, I examined these 14 categories using theoretical coding, which “integrates and synthesizes the categories derived from coding and analysis to now create a theory” (Saldaña, 2014, p. 224), sorting codes into five overarching themes.

Trustworthiness

As an initial trustworthiness measure (Stake, 2006), I conducted follow-up interviews with participants to discuss emerging themes, ask clarifying questions, and offer opportunities for feedback. Although triangulation from multiple perspectives is recommended for case study research (Stake, 2006), I decided against conducting interviews with participants’ teachers, professors, or advisors because I wanted to center the study solely on ways in which participants described their lived experiences within their programs. After both the second-stage pattern coding and theoretical coding, I sought out a peer-debriefer for an external audit of the coding process, at which point we discussed emergent themes, disconfirming evidence, and the theoretical framework. Finally, I engaged in member checking with participants, offering multiple opportunities to review interview transcripts, selected quotations, my interpretations, and emergent themes. All participants responded to both rounds of member checks, and two requested changes to their quotations.

Positionality

I share few, if any, of the marginalized identities that my participants brought to this work. I am a cisgender, middle-class, heterosexual White male who has benefited from the privileges that come with identifying with the dominant cultural norms of society. Although I cannot claim any shared knowledge of the lived experiences of my participants, I sought to use my position as a researcher to critically examine both myself and the structures of power in which I reside (Talbot, 2018). My goal throughout this process was to speak with participants rather than for them (Hess, 2018), engaging them as collaborators and emphasizing stories in their own words to “powerfully articulate their realities” (p. 583). To practice reflexivity through the process, I noted my evolving interpretations of participant experiences, especially those that were—and were not—related to aspects of their racial identity. In addition, I utilized peer debriefing conversations to ensure that interpretations were grounded in participants’ lived experiences before bringing emergent themes to participants for their feedback and collaboration.

Theoretical Framework

To guide my analysis, I used Museus’ (2014) Culturally Engaging Campus Environment (CECE) model of collegiate success (see Figure 1) as a theoretical framework. Although theoretical frameworks often guide both data collection and analysis in qualitative research, the CECE model emerged after the first round of interviews, when an initial framework did not adequately reflect the complexity of participants’ experiences. The CECE model emerged as a better fit because it takes a multifaceted approach to collegiate success that considers personal, external, and institutional factors. Diverging from previous work in student attrition, especially that of Tinto (1975, 1993, 2012), which had previously related success to student behaviors and individual factors, Museus (2014) instead focused this model on the role of the institution in creating a campus environment that fosters success for students of color.

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Figure 1.

Culturally engaging campus environment (CECE) model of college success (Museus, 2014).

In the upper left corner of the CECE model are External Influences that impact college success, which include finances and family influences. These affect success outcomes directly and may be independent of the collegiate experience. Next, in the bottom left corner, are Pre-College Inputs that are associated with every student prior to entering college. These can be demographic factors, academic dispositions (such as self-efficacy), and academic preparation, which can influence both their collegiate experience as well as success outcomes. The center of the model highlights nine indicators of a culturally engaging campus, divided into two categories: Cultural Relevance (cultural familiarity, culturally relevant knowledge, community service, and cross-cultural engagement) and Cultural Responsiveness (collectivist cultural orientation, humanized educational environments, proactive philosophies, and holistic support). Specific examples of these indicators include cultivating academic environments where students “have opportunities to learn and share knowledge about the issues within and needs of their own communities” and “engage in positive and purposeful interactions with peers from disparate cultural origins” (p. 211). Each of these nine indicators can positively affect students’ sense of belonging, academic disposition, and academic performance, all of which have been linked to collegiate success outcomes for students of color.

Curriculum and Coursework

Relationships With Faculty

For participants in this study, nothing was more complex than the constantly evolving relationships they maintained with faculty. In the best scenarios, students developed meaningful relationships with key professors who kept them engaged and were often credited with their successes. Relationships with faculty sometimes began prior to college as faculty members used the audition process to recruit, offer scholarships, and advocate for students in the admissions process. For Jasmine, she navigated the audition process entirely on her own, combing through YouTube to find appropriate repertoire. When it came time to audition, “I wasn’t used to . . . playing by myself alone, so I was fumbling . . . bumbling over the . . . fingerings, all that stuff.” However, her clarinet professor “saw something in me. He was like, ‘We’re gonna accept you’ [even though] there were a lot of things I needed to work on.”

Many students specifically highlighted the closeness they felt with music education faculty advisors to the point of not wanting to inform them of their decision to leave their music education programs. Gi’Anni stated about his advisor: “She cares. When she found out that I was switching [majors], I didn’t tell her, and she was upset. ‘I just hate that you didn’t inform me—I want to be there to help and support you.’” Michelle felt similarly about her music education advisor, reflecting that “I went to her for everything . . . I love her so much. She’s probably like my favorite person ever.” Salma remembered a particular moment from a music education class where the professor made time so “we could all just talk about our problems, like what we had going on in our lives . . . And it was a safe space to just let our emotions out because, I mean, we all really needed that.” Although Caleb left the music education program, his close relationship with his voice teacher influenced his decision to continue in the School of Music and pursue a degree in music performance. “He challenged me, but also, you know, got down to my level, with, with life just in general. He cares about how you are in the day and what’s going on . . . He’s not just a teacher.” In each case, faculty members went above and beyond to build sustained relationships with each student, offering strong connection points to the program.

Other students had markedly different experiences with faculty in their programs. For Christopher, repeated negative experiences with one professor in a remedial theory class played a significant role in his decision to leave his program after his first year. He recalled, “One kid was really excelling in the class. And our professor said something like, ‘Oh . . . you’re doing really well. You shouldn’t be in this class, unlike our friend over there’ [pointing to me].” When faculty interactions became strained or left students feeling discouraged, these moments often served as turning points that led participants away from the music education degree. However, these complex relationships sometimes evolved over time. For Michelle, a rather acrimonious relationship with her studio teacher was the main reason she left music education after her third year. But as she continued in her music B.A. program, her relationship with the same studio teacher improved dramatically, leading her to decide to pursue a graduate degree in performance.

Relationships With Peers

Participants who attended PWIs commonly described themselves as being one of the few students of color in predominantly White spaces. They were acutely aware of racial differences, especially when offering their perspectives and opinions in class. Michelle reflected that it “feels weird that I’m still in a room full of people who really don’t look like me.” To cope with these feelings, she often sought out solidarity from the other Black students in her program. “We would kind of have this, like, connection with other Black students, where we would definitely support each other more, just like, ‘yeah, you know, it’s hard for us, but we’re gonna get there.’” Caleb employed a similar strategy to develop camaraderie among other Black students in his classes. “We know the other Black people in the classroom, because we see each other immediately, right? Because it’s a white room, and then there’s one black dot . . . Gravitating towards . . . the other Black people in the classroom, this is what you did.” For students at HBCUs and HSIs, however, their experiences were markedly different. Although Salma was from a different background than many of her White peers, faculty efforts to validate her educational and cultural experiences helped bridge those differences. The two students who attended HBCUs, they both found themselves in racially affirming environments. Gi’Anni described his reasons for attending his HBCU: “I didn’t want to be a number; I wanted to be a name. So I naturally wanted to go somewhere I knew I could be comfortable . . . it almost felt like home.”

In addition to bringing attention to the racial dynamics of their relationships with peers, participants also reflected on their relative standing in their programs compared to others. Only Ray felt himself ahead of his classmates, as he rose to the top of ensemble seating assignments and tackled theory coursework with ease. In contrast, others felt much differently about their respective standing in their programs. For example, Christopher reflected on collaborating on homework assignments with classmates: “They were willing to help me, but at the same time, it was like ‘how don’t you know this kind of stuff?’” Among participants, feelings of being behind their peers stemmed from many sources, including enrolling in remedial courses, observing others in practice rooms and studio classes, noticing differences in resources and training, and being assigned to graduate students for private lessons rather than faculty. Over time, as patterns of isolation, comparison, and a limited sense of belonging built up alongside other challenges, these peer dynamics sometimes became part of the set of factors that led students out of their programs.

Financial Burdens of the Music Education Major

Participants discussed at length the financial burdens of the music education major. Financial struggles manifested in multiple ways, including unpaid student teaching, transportation challenges to observations/practicum, additional time commitments to ensembles beyond credited hours, outside work responsibilities, finding adequate time to practice, and maintaining instruments. Ray spent his first year in college at an HBCU in the south before deciding to transfer to a PWI closer to home in the Midwest. After his audition, the saxophone professor offered the following feedback: “Technically, this is great. This is on point, we’d love to have you . . . we want to have you in the studio, but you need a new instrument.” Ray’s response: “I can barely afford being here at school.” That conversation ended Ray’s pursuit of a music education degree as he chose a different major at his new university.

For other students, financial burdens appeared in more insidious ways. Jasmine, a clarinetist, needed to work a full-time job to help pay for school, which meant that she lost time toward practicing, leaving her feeling overwhelmed.

A lot of [other students] didn’t work. So they had a lot of free extra time to practice . . . I worked 3–12 and then I had 8 a.m. classes, so my only time to practice was literally at like 2:00, 3:00 in the morning, but they would still be there practicing.

Music education coursework, especially practicum and observations in area schools, also presented hidden costs to participants. Michelle recounted that her school assignments for music education coursework “weren’t in walking distance . . . And I’m like, ‘Well, I don’t have a car. I also don’t have money to pay gas money and catch Ubers.’” Finally, for Salma, grappling with the prospect of unpaid student teaching marked the moment she left the pathway toward music teaching:

I chose not to graduate with the teaching certification because of the financial reasons . . . In order to get my certification, I have to student-teach, and that’s considered a class so I have to pay for it. And I’m basically a teacher’s aide. And I think anywhere else, this would be considered an internship where we would get paid for it, but we don’t.

Whether experienced as mounting pressures or sudden, non‑negotiable costs, financial burdens emerged as some of the most powerful disconnections in the web of students’ collegiate experiences, often making it no longer feasible to remain in their programs.

Disillusionment With Music and the Teaching Profession

Five of the seven participants in this study were enrolled in their programs during the spring of 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic dramatically altered their collegiate experiences. Challenges such as online music courses, miscommunication regarding program deadlines, or the complexities of student-teaching online contributed to a growing disillusionment with the prospect of becoming teachers, and some participants used this time to reevaluate their career plans. Salma recalled that “I saw especially after the pandemic, how teachers were not being treated very well . . . So I thought, what if something like that happens again, do I really want to be kind of stuck doing that? But it also made me really sad, because I remember how passionate I was in the beginning.” For these five students, they also began to grasp what daily life might look like as a K–12 public school teacher. Jasmine remembered that after a semester of observations, “it was the background . . . that I kind of really didn’t want to be part of . . . the teacher work . . . [such as] reporting to faculty meetings.” However, this sense of disillusionment extended beyond participants enrolled in college during the pandemic. Looking back, Christopher recalled, “I went there for a reason. And that reason was music education . . . to grow as a musician and to learn more . . . Once I felt like that’s not what I was doing there, I definitely decided that, you know, I’m not going to waste my time or waste my money.” Similarly, Ray’s enthusiasm for pursuing a career in music teaching diminished after his saxophone teacher required him to purchase a new instrument to transfer to his studio. Across all participants, these experiences prompted them to reflect critically on whether music teaching remained a viable career path. As disillusionment intersected with other disconnections and students’ sense of a future in teaching diminished, continuing in the major no longer felt like a logical choice.

Limitations

Because recruitment occurred through my professional networks, this approach likely connected me with individuals who remained in contact with former faculty and felt comfortable responding to a study invitation. As a result, interviews reflected experiences of participants who remained connected to these networks and may not capture perspectives of students who severed these ties upon leaving their programs. In addition, recruiting participants through the same faculty members who taught them introduces complex power dynamics where students may have participated out of a sense of obligation to their former professors. Finally, for two participants, their time in college was more distant, as interviews happened between six and 20 years after their departure from their programs. Although these participants spoke in detail about their experiences, recall about some finer points, interactions, or other moments may have been limited.