Abstract
By exploring ‘the trumpet’ as a metaphor, a successful mid-career instrumental teacher and a teacher educator jointly conducted a narrative inquiry into pedagogy used with a high school composition class. In particular, they focused on the dilemmas that arose when, within this class setting, the instrumental teacher implemented informal learning practices for the first time. This teacher struggled as he shifted from the teacher-directed pedagogy he employed in concert band instrumental instruction, to the social-constructivist pedagogy he felt was required of the composition class. As he began implementing informal learning practices, this teacher questioned both the value of his identity as a classical musician and the effectiveness of social-constructivist strategies, finding dialogue and small-group problem solving to be an inefficient use of class time. Despite these struggles, or because of them, he grew as an educator. Based on these findings, it is suggested that teacher educators should consider addressing the complex challenges to identity and epistemology that initial engagement with informal learning and social-constructivism may elicit from practicing and pre-service educators.
You know, my trumpet is an extension of who I am, I think through my trumpet. But I’m trying not to do that in this class because I become the loudest thing around and I don’t want to be. (Stephen’s ‘trumpet metaphor’)
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In recent decades, music education researchers have called for the inclusion of informal learning in instruction with children and in teacher education. Originally derived from Green’s (2002) documentation of how popular musicians learn, the term ‘informal learning’ in music education has principally been understood as learning that is aurally based, motivated by students’ musical interests outside of school, and idiosyncratically guided by the learners rather than specified teachers (Green, 2008). When educators use informal learning in formal educational settings, they employ a social-constructivist approach, where instruction is student-directed and problem-based and knowledge is peer- and co-constructed (Allsup, 2003; Green, 2008; Jaffurs, 2004; Odena & Welch, 2012; Webster, 2012). Informal learning’s emphasis on youth culture and student-derived curricula can serve as a complement to notation-based and other traditional instruction (Green, 2008).
Despite the call for the use of informal learning in formal settings, or “informal pedagogy” (Cain, 2013, p. 5), its adoption remains difficult for some practitioners and teacher educators (Green, 2008). Perhaps because of the emphasis on classical performance in teacher education in the US compared to other parts of the world (Randles & Smith, 2012), US educators who teach large ensembles have been slow to incorporate informal learning (Allsup, 2003). Instead, such large ensembles in the US are characterized by use of classical repertoire, teacher-directed strategies, and the teacher as the main or sole problem-solver (Abramo, 2011; Allsup, 2003). Similarly, within teacher education, Finney and Philpott (2010) suggest that the hegemony of formal learning makes it difficult for pre-service educators to identify and then embrace informal learning. “Our system of music education (and wider education and culture) has the potential to subvert the informal, a consequence of which is that what counts as musical knowledge, learning and pedagogy for the musicians who embark on teacher education programmes can often be defined in terms of the formal moment” (Finney & Philpott, 2010, p. 10). Emmons (2004) notes that educators not only struggle with the shift in pedagogical paradigm required by informal learning, but also often lack skills and experiences essential to its implementation, like playing by ear and playing in popular ensembles. Emmons suggests that this is due to music schools’ entrance requirements that focus on and favor classical music skills.
It is within this tension between the theory and practice of informal pedagogy that we conducted this narrative inquiry into one teacher’s mid-career change from an ensemble director to a general music teacher, where he consciously incorporated informal learning practices into his pedagogy. After receiving an education that focused primarily on rehearsal techniques, and acquiring 15 years of experience as a traditional band director, Stephen changed jobs to begin work in a school in order to improve upon the band program and to teach a high school elective composition course (students aged 14–18). Content with his pedagogical approach in band, which focused on formal learning and was derived from strategies covered in his undergraduate teacher education, Stephen felt less experienced in teaching non-ensemble classes. In his composition class, he decided to continue some of the pedagogical strategies that the previous teacher had implemented, trying what was for him a new pedagogy that acknowledged and used informal learning.
Through his first year of teaching this composition course, we – Stephen, the teacher, and Joseph, a music teacher educator – asked: What dilemmas arise, what new views occur, and what assumptions are questioned when a veteran and successful instrumental teacher takes on different pedagogical and professional responsibilities that incorporate an informal pedagogy? What might teacher educators learn from this? These questions are examined through and framed by Stephen’s metaphor of his primary instrument, the trumpet, which appears as the epigraph to this paper. By examining each phrase of the metaphor as well as a whole, we suggest that this quote summarizes his struggles with the implementation of an informal pedagogy.
Research perspectives
Informal learning practices and pedagogy
Differentiating between informal and formal kinds of learning allows educators to situate the ways learners engage with musical material, gain skills, and formulate knowledge. Traditionally, music learning in schools has been described as formal, where “the activity is sequenced beforehand. That is, it is arranged and put into order by a ‘teacher’, who also leads and carries out the activity” (Folkestad, 2006, p. 141). In contrast, “[t]he informal learning situation is not sequenced beforehand; the activity steers the way of working/playing/composing, and the process proceeds by the interaction of the participants in the activity” (Folkestad, 2006, p. 141). Similarly, Wright and Kanellopoulos (2010) suggest that, “informal learning could be understood as a deliberate attempt to be immersed in intense situations of non-formal learning, and therefore results in the creation of non-traditional social learning environments, combining interactive, non-linear, self-directed processes” (p. 73).
In music education research, informal learning was originally derived from popular music practices. Green (2002) suggests that popular musicians engage in informal learning through practices such as transcription and improvisation and through ‘enculturation’, or immersion in musical environments where they learn from peers and other knowledgeable individuals who have not officially been designated as a teacher. Because of this, informal learning often incorporates students’ interests and youth culture (Green, 2002, 2008), but is not synonymous with popular music practices, because popular music has the potential to be taught formally (Allsup, Westerlund, & Shieh, 2012; Smith, 2011; Westerlund, 2006).
Despite their differing qualities, formal and informal learning may happen simultaneously. As Green (2002) suggests, “informal music learning practices and formal music education are not mutually exclusive, but learners often draw upon or encounter aspects of both” (p. 59). Because of this, formal and informal learning are not binaries, but, instead, are dialectical. As Folkestad (2006) notes, “formal–informal should not be regarded as a dichotomy, but rather as the two poles of a continuum and in most learning situations, both these aspects of learning are in various degrees present and interacting” (p. 135). As an example, Mok (2010) describes the middle of the continuum, where both informal and formal learning are used simultaneously in areas outside of school as “non-formal”, where a “mentor” or more knowledgeable party acts as a guide but in a less didactic way than formal teaching.
Informal learning transpires in formal teaching situations as well. Cain (2013) suggests that teachers may consciously use informal learning in their pedagogies. “Although ‘pedagogy’ implies formal teaching (Folkestad, 2006), teachers can create opportunities for learning, similar to those encountered outside school – this is legitimately termed ‘informal pedagogy’” (Cain, 2013, p. 5). This informal pedagogy may be combined with other pedagogies, but the distinctions amongst them may be difficult to delineate. In a case study of a teacher who used informal and formal learning in her instruction, Cain (2013) found the mixing of pedagogies to be more messy than a continuum.
Because ‘formal’ and ‘informal’ are not opposites when applied to pedagogies, because attempts to distinguish ‘formal’ from ‘informal’ tend to founder and because discussions about their relative merits are often discussions about (high-level, overarching) aims, it seems preferable to re-cast discussion about pedagogies in the light of such aims. To do so entails moving beyond a two-dimensional view, positioning pedagogies on a formal/informal continuum and opens up a space for other ways of thinking. (p. 16)
Instead, Cain argues that researchers study how educators combine differing pedagogies to meet their students’ and communities’ needs.
Allsup (2003) and Jaffurs (2004) suggest that informal pedagogy fosters democracy in the Deweyan sense, in that there is a sharing and co-construction of truth. As this pedagogical approach is youth culture-driven, experiential, problem-based and student-directed, involving peer learning and co-construction of meaning, informal learning may be situated within the larger movement of social-constructivist pedagogy (Richardson, 2003; Odena & Welch, 2012; Webster, 2012). A pedagogy using informal learning thus stands in contrast to teacher-centered pedagogies that use formal learning, for example, large ensembles which are commonly characterized by “the common repetitive pattern where the students play, the teacher makes brief comments to correct ‘errors,’ and then the students play again” (Abramo, 2011, p. 39). In this teacher-centered context, informal learning and peer teaching is de-emphasized or suppressed, and the educator’s direct instruction, along with notation, is considered the main source of knowledge. As a result, in a process that is less collaborative, the teacher didactically imparts knowledge to students.
Despite informal and formal learning’s dialectical relationship and frequent simultaneous use by learners, incorporation of informal learning into formal settings can be difficult for educators. For example, in her study of 32 teachers, Green (2008) reported that teachers who incorporated informal learning into their pedagogy for the first time often found it challenging to “take a step back” and allow students to choose repertoire, run rehearsals, figure out established performance technique on instruments, and solve problems. In a self-study of teaching a 12-year-old, Webster (2012) discusses how teachers and students struggle in the revision process of teaching composition. Although he does not use the term informal, Webster highlights the difficulty of incorporating students’ decision-making into formal music settings.
Teachers’ performer identities and creativity
Stephen’s identity as a trumpet performer provides a suitable starting point to examine his shift from formal, teacher-directed, large-ensemble instruction to a student-directed, general music and informal pedagogy. A sociological approach – which views identity as socially constructed through institutions and practices – has suggested that music teachers in the US construct their identity around a teacher/performer binary (Natale-Abramo, 2009; Pellegrino, 2009). As Pellegrino (2009) notes after reviewing research on music teacher identities, “[m]uch of the literature suggests that preservice and in-service music educators view themselves first as a performer and second as a music teacher” (p. 40). For Scheib (2007), the preference of performer over teacher is created by music teacher education programs, particularly in the US, but does not prepare students for a career in education.
For music education students in undergraduate music programs, greater emphasis is often placed on the formation and/or solidification of the musician–performer identity, with significantly less support for and attention to the development of the teacher–self. To the contrary, upon graduation and induction into the profession of teaching, little support exists for the musician-performer role. (n.p.)
In particular, this performer identity tends to be classical in nature, and this may not sufficiently prepare teachers for the demands of contemporary classrooms, which also incorporate non-performing activities and popular music (Hargreaves, Purves, Welch, & Marshall, 2007).
The literature also suggests that while the conflict between teacher and performer identities is prevalent during the pre-service and initiation stages of development (Roberts, 1991) and continues after these stages (Bernard, 2004), teachers’ identities become more nuanced and complicated as they reach their mid and late careers (Ballantyne, 2005; Bernard, 2004; Bladh, 2004; Dolloff, 2007; Natale-Abramo, 2009). Natale-Abramo (2009) notes that pedagogical conflicts, pressures of competition, and institutional contexts in which teachers work, as well as their racial, sexual, and classed identities, are also prominent influences that shape music teachers’ selves.
This can affect educators teaching with and for creativity. A study conducted by Randles and Smith (2012) found that US pre-service music educators “feel less confident about their abilities to compose music, less comfortable teaching composition, and are less likely to plan on ‘teaching students to compose/improvise their own original music when [they] get a job as a music teacher’” (p. 173) than their English counterparts. They suggest that the emphasis on traditional ensembles in US teacher education programs is the cause of this discrepancy.
For practicing teachers, Odena and Welch (2007) found that secondary teachers “with composing experience and practical knowledge of different music styles were more articulate at describing the environment for creativity and how this might be assessed in pupils’ work” (p. 71). In a qualitative inquiry into six teachers’ perceptions of creativity, Odena and Welch (2012) found that teachers’ musical education, musical activities outside of school, and teaching experiences had “a significant effect on the teachers’ views of creative pupils” (p. 37). Teachers’ experiences, perceptions of creativity, and classroom teaching all affect one another, so that teachers bring preconceived notions and experiences of creativity to bear on their classroom activities and those activities then reshape their preconceived notions. From this, Odena and Welch (2012) conclude “that practitioners need appropriate composing experience if they are to … engage with the students’ composing processes” (p. 43). The implications for practicing teachers include “the need for practical work using a variety of different musical styles and activities” (p. 44). Thus, a holistic perspective of Stephen’s adoption of informal pedagogy must consider: how his identity as a performer relates to other aspects of his identity; the effect of his identity on his teaching of composition and creativity; and his institutional context.
Narrative inquiry methodology
This project is conceptualized as a narrative inquiry, which looks at individuals’ experiences and beliefs through the stories they tell (Barrett & Stauffer, 2009). Clandinin and Connelly (1995) propose that researchers examine what they call ‘professional knowledge landscapes’, which situate teachers’ personal practical knowledge within the contexts of teaching. “A landscape metaphor … calls for a notion of professional knowledge as composed of a wide variety of components and influenced by a wide variety of people, places, and things” (Clandinin & Connelly, 1995, pp. 4–5). This landscape is understood within a “three dimensional inquiry space” which addresses and accounts for the “personal and social (interaction); past, present, and future (continuity); combined with the notion of place (situation)” (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000, p. 50, italics in original).
Finally, as the word landscape suggests, central to this investigation is the idea that metaphors are essential to thinking about and experiencing phenomena. As Lakoff and Johnson (1983) note, “metaphor is pervasive in everyday life, not just in language but in thought and action. Our ordinary conceptual system, in terms of which we both think and act, is fundamentally metaphorical in nature” (p. 3). Therefore, the landscape is a physical and metaphorical space that can be examined through Stephen’s social context, his experiences in past educational experiences, his preparations for the future, and his interactions with Joseph and the students.
As Stephen transitioned to an unfamiliar landscape and engaged with a shift in conception of pedagogy in the composition class from the more teacher-centered approach he previously employed in concert band, he met dilemmas and successes. We agreed that Joseph would visit Stephen in his new school throughout the 2010–2011 academic year as he engaged with this shift in teaching to participate in a collaborative inquiry. Joseph took field notes and made audio recordings of interviews, informal talks, and his observation of Stephen’s classes. Joseph transcribed the audio recordings and then used narrative analysis to openly code the transcripts, meaning that themes were generated by reviewing the data, rather than determined by categories conceived prior to reviewing the data (Riessman, 1993). After Joseph generated these initial themes, he returned to Stephen for “participant check-ins” (Chase, 2005). This provided the opportunity for Joseph to ask Stephen to elaborate on ideas explored in previous interviews and to correct what he considered misinterpretations by Joseph.
Narratives are not simply found and then reported, but are instead reconstructed, deconstructed, interpreted, and reconstructed again (Riessman, 1993), and this necessarily makes narrative research political and subjective and ultimately an act entwined in ethics (Adams, 2008; Chase, 2005; Clandinin, 2006; Josselson, 2007). As part of this concern with ethics, narrative researchers have questioned the authority of the researcher’s voice in the interpretation and reporting of another’s story (Chase, 2005). As Clandinin (2006) states, “[f]or those of us wanting to learn to engage in narrative inquiry, we need to imagine ethics as being about negotiation, respect, mutuality and openness to multiple voices” (p. 52). Therefore, the sharing of this narrative between two parties is not triangulation; it is not intended to render a “more accurate” or “real” account of Stephen’s teaching. Instead, it is an attempt to display the complexity of the stories shared within the context of a collaborative inquiry. This represents “an ethical gesture more than an epistemological one, an action designed to honor the rights of informants to read and react to our jointly constructed versions of their life stories” (Barone, 2001, p. 168). It was in this spirit that we co-authored this work.
The landscape
Key elements of Stephen’s professional knowledge landscape are Stephen, Joseph, the composition course, and the school and community in which he teaches. Providing a brief background on each of these elements is necessary to contextualize the landscape.
Stephen
I am a proud Southerner, to start. This is my eighteenth year teaching in the public schools. And my first fifteen years were teaching band with the occasional music theory class. But I started off teaching six band classes a day in The South and then I came to New York [State] and I taught two band classes and three [small-group instrumental] lessons, and then two band classes in my previous school. Then I came to my current school and I teach band and small-group [instrumental] lessons, and the composition class. Also, I have a masters degree in trumpet performance; I’m a freelance musician, a father, and a husband.
Joseph
When Joseph asked Stephen to describe Joseph, Stephen said:
You are a passionate musician, but you have skills that I do not. You and I both did the classical music route, but you are versed in the pop music field too, because you grew up playing guitar. You’re able to move between both worlds easily. You understand the pop side of things and the ways kids who play by ear approach music, plus you understand the classical side of things. You’re also a passionate researcher.
In addition, Joseph is a music teacher educator who researches informal learning. While also holding a degree in classical performance, Joseph learned informally in his youth and continues this practice in his spare time.
The school and community
Stephen teaches in a middle/high school (students aged 12–18) in a suburb of New York City.
I teach at a small, very affluent, predominantly White, insular community. So our [the community and students’] view of the outside world affects our view of our compositions to some extent, I think. We have a lot of rock, which surprised me because for high school, I thought that the kids would listen to more hip-hop and rap, and some of the kids do, but the majority of the class listens to old-school rock, which fascinates me, because you don’t find kids that do that. (Stephen, interview, 12 March 2012)
This contrasted with his previous school in an urban, ethnically and socio-economically diverse district:
In my previous school, the kids, for whatever reason, just accepted what the teacher said. They were so used to not questioning the authority figure because that’s the way that they were raised. Here, they feel more entitled, but not every child. Where in the previous school, some of the kids were grateful they were getting anything.
Do you think the differences between the schools can be attributed to their differences in the affluence?
I don’t know. I know my current school is affluent, but I couldn’t tell you which of my kids have money. (interview, 12 March 2012)
The composition class
Within this school and community landscape was a variety of music classes, including concert bands, choirs, general music, percussion, guitar, and composition. The high school composition elective was previously designed and taught by another teacher and previously employed a social-constructivist, student-centered, and informal pedagogy and included improvisation and composition with computers.
The history of this course, in my mind, is that kids who thought they could be creative musically would take the course. The majority of students who have taken it in the past, I would gather, would not take your mainstream music classes; they’re not in band or chorus. They come from a guitar and drum background. So, they have a different background in music than I do. The majority of them don’t read music. Or if they have, they’ve started – what I in the band world consider – late in their music careers because they started in high school by only taking music theory or they take lessons with someone who teaches music reading skills that goes along with playing by ear. They listen to different types of music than I do and then they sit and figure it out and play it. Whether it’s right or wrong, you know, their chords might be slightly different than what they hear. The first year I taught composition, I went in with a certain idea with what it meant to be a classically trained musician, and boy, it didn’t mean the same thing as the kids in the course. And it took us the better part of the year to reach a common vocabulary.
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(Stephen, interview, 12 March 2012)
Stephen’s relationship with informal pedagogy: The trumpet metaphor
Stephen’s dilemmas and successes within this landscape are encapsulated in one quote recorded during an interview immediately following a composition class and located at the beginning of this document. This quote, which we came to call ‘the trumpet metaphor’, arose when Stephen articulated his struggles with a particular group composition/improvisation exercise. Stephen asked the students to compose and revise a melody and chord progression, and later add to it to create a composition in ABA form. Stephen played marimba along with the students to provide support and scaffolding. However, he found the marimba to be insufficient because he lacked technical skill on the instrument and therefore wanted to use his trumpet instead. As Stephen explained these difficulties, he was, for the most part, speaking quite literally; he was afraid that if he used the trumpet, he would “be the loudest thing around”, not allowing students to hear themselves and their peers. Despite Stephen’s intent behind the quote, our joint interpretation of its metaphors provided an avenue to explore Stephen’s teaching. Encapsulated within the trumpet metaphor are the key themes identity, musical process, pedagogy, and growth that arose as he shifted in the continuum from an exclusively formal learning-focused pedagogy to include a more informal pedagogy.
Identity: “My trumpet is an extension of who I am”
Stephen identified himself primarily as a classical trumpet player. He received a master’s degree in trumpet performance and regularly performs on the instrument in various ensembles throughout the region.
My education shaped me as a trumpet player, but it’s outside [my teaching] as well; it’s an avocation, too. Because I enjoy and make money playing the trumpet in groups, so I continue. I have plenty of friends who studied trumpet like I did, but as soon as they got a job, they stopped playing altogether. They would call themselves a “band director.” I call myself a music teacher because I still play, which is different. (Stephen, interview, 6 September 2010)
His education in private instruction and public school bands consisted of classical repertoire and formal processes, particularly focusing on notation.
When I started playing trumpet I was discouraged from playing by ear. And as I’ve gotten older, trying to do that has been very difficult for me. (Stephen, interview, 6 September 2010)
Accompanying this traditional education in trumpet performance was a traditional US pre-service music education, focusing primarily on instrumental techniques. As is typical in US music teacher education, he accrued great knowledge of rehearsal strategies and instrumental methods, but lacked experiences in informal learning and non-ensemble music teaching. In his undergraduate education, students were tracked into band, chorus, orchestra, and general music and received state teaching certification in one of those areas.
I learned how to be a band director. We talked about classroom management. We got up and practice-taught in front of people. I went and did observations as a sophomore and junior. I student taught as a senior.
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So, anything that I really wanted, I got on my own. The best thing I ever heard from my methods teacher, who was the band director at the time, was, “I can only teach you ten percent of what you need to know to be a band director.” Truer words were never spoken. (Stephen, interview, 31 March 2011)
In addition, he did not receive instruction on the pedagogy of improvisation, composing, or history in ensemble settings.
The US National Standards just came out towards the end of my [time at] college, in 1994, so I didn’t get that in my undergraduate training. I didn’t do it in my graduate training because I did a performance degree, so it was out there teaching, and I remember reading them going, “they play [referring to standard 1]. They don’t sing because we do band [standard 2]. Improvise [standard 3]: yeah, whatever. Compose [standard 4]: who the hell? Oh cultures, I can talk about cultures, I can do history [standard 9].” (Stephen, interview, 31 March 2011)
As a result, in his new position, Stephen was reluctant to change the formal learning-focused pedagogy he used in concert band and learned in his teacher education.
Musical process: “I think through my trumpet”
Stephen’s identity and education as a classical trumpet player also affected how he thought about music.
I think as a trumpet player. I think as a single melodic line instrument. And many students in my composition class don’t think melodically, they think harmonically, which is difficult for me because I’ve never been able to be a harmonic instrument (laugh). The disadvantage I have is that as I try to think harmonically, my sense of harmony are (sic) not a pop music sense of harmonies. What I see as one key, they see as another key, what I think of as two notes, they think of as a chord. I struggle because I work as a trumpet player, and I’m concerned with melodies, never harmonies because the conductor never says, “Steve, play a G chord.” I get the paper and I play what’s in front of me. (Stephen, interview, 12 March 2012)
His classical trumpet identity also led him to view performance as a reproduction of a composer’s intent.
Am I meeting the composer’s intent? If we haven’t met the composer’s intent then I’m not happy because I’ve done a disservice to the composer. So, that’s where I come from, because I find that to be fun. I’m going to sit down with a group of people and I’m going to recreate somebody’s music. But I want to recreate it with their best intentions in mind. (Stephen, interview, 14 June 2012)
This paradigm of a classical performer as an accurate reproducer of a musical work – which is unlike other genres like jazz, where trumpet players are keenly aware of harmonies and are directly involved in the composition of the piece through improvisation – also affected his pedagogy as a band director.
As a band director, I teach students how to reproduce a composer’s work. And 80 percent of what I do is to say, “play the note this way, and you have to play this long, and this short, and at this volume”, all instructions that the composer puts on the page.
That seems to be a classical mindset.
Oh absolutely, that’s what classical musicians do. My composition students do not come from that paradigm. They create music on their own. They start by recreating someone else’s music. They pick up the guitar, and they’re like, “Oh I like this song, I’m going to try to recreate it.” They’re recreating in their own idea because they don’t use the same chord progression that they hear, because they’re not sure. They do what they think is close. Their melody is close, their form is close, but it’s not exact, and they’re okay with that. They might not notice the difference, but a trained musician like me may. They’re more comfortable with stuff being close. … The band kids are different, they’re like, “No, don’t play that, it’s not what’s on the page.” My upbringing was, “Don’t make stuff up.”
It seems to me like you struggle with that?
Yes because – damn it – I was told it had to be right or wrong (slams the table with his fist and laughs). There was no middle ground in my tradition. If I wanted to pass my jury on trumpet, I had to be right. It couldn’t be “Steve was pretty damn close, so he gets an A.” No, that would be a B or a C. (interview, 12 March 2012)
Because Stephen often focused on this reproductive mode of interpretation, common in classical performance, he often struggled with the role notation played in the act of composing, and whether his students needed the skill.
To me, composition is creating a piece of music and then manipulating it how you, the composer, want it to fit together, but then notating it, so that it can be recreated by somebody else (pause). The “recreating” part is my concern because I’m going to be recreating it. I think the kids will be able to put together a groove in any of the styles we’ll be doing, with the patterns we’re going to learn. But will they be able to notate it? And do they need to be able to notate it? That’s the thing, all the world percussion I learned: it’s an oral tradition. Which was really difficult for me, because I didn’t come from that background. (Stephen, interview, 6 September 2010)
Because Stephen struggled with these issues, he often questioned students’ compositional process that did not use notation, particularly when using newer technologies:
If you’re just taking this drum loop, and deciding where it goes, and then putting another loop with it, is that composing? Because you’re not writing that musical segment but you’re borrowing it and then manipulating it somehow. No, you’re not even manipulating it; you’re just putting it where you want. Is there any organization to that? (Stephen, interview, 6 September 2010)
In Stephen’s words, “[he] think[s] through [his] trumpet” as a classical performer, and this made him think of composition as the notation of an idea for later reproduction and performance as the act of that reproduction. This paradigm sometimes made it difficult for him to appreciate the ways students thought about music.
Pedagogy: “Because I become the loudest thing around”
Stephen’s education in trumpet performance and rehearsal techniques and the types of musical thinking it engendered affected his pedagogy. At one point, Stephen compared teaching to the practice and maintenance of an instrument:
I like working with kids, it’s my instrument, and right now, the students aren’t improving, so I’m not getting better at my instrument (smiles). Because, you know, I need to oil the valves, and I need to take the dents out of the horn. There are a lot of dents, I have hammers, I just haven’t used them yet (laugh). (Stephen, interview, 10 December 2010)
Like a repairer fixes and improves a passive, dented instrument, in the large ensemble, Stephen’s goal was to improve students by repairing their mistakes. He did this by providing feedback after they played. Thus, students passively took direction and did not contribute directly to the direction of the curriculum, just as an instrument has no control over how it is repaired. In this process, he was “the loudest thing around” while students remained verbally silent.
But, this approach did not work in the composition class where he tried to include student direction, small-group work, and social-constructivist pedagogy. In this class, Stephen tried to teach in a way that asked students to actively contribute to the direction of the curriculum, but he struggled with this approach because he felt that he lost teacher control. As an example, he often struggled with a strategy he regularly employed in the composition class where he modeled or lectured at the beginning of class and then allowed students to work in small groups:
We talk about stuff and then I let them go do it. That’s still awkward.
Why is it awkward for you?
Because I’m not in control. I think that’s part of it. As a band director I’m in control up front, and I was taught strategies on how to, you know – if the kid has this physical issue, or technical issue, I know ways to help them be successful with a technical passage, or a rhythm passage, or hearing something. And I’m comfortable with that because I’ve been doing that for many years. (interview, 30 March 2011)
The following year when reviewing the data together, Joseph asked Stephen if he felt the above quote accurately captured how he felt about his first year of teaching composition. He responded:
That’s very accurate for last year. Yes. Due to my upbringing and education, when kids are doing self-guided work, it doesn’t look to me like they’re doing work, because they sit around and talk. Giving the kids the opportunity to try something new, in a small group, without my involvement, on their own timeline, is hard for me because it feels to me like we’re wasting time. But that’s the way they do music. I’m more comfortable this year though it still frustrates me. (Stephen, interview, 20 March 2012)
Because of the often non-sequential quality to informal learning, Stephen also struggled to plan for the composition class:
I was never good at writing lesson plans, but I can plan a band rehearsal in my sleep because I know where I’m starting and where I want to go. I don’t have any idea where I want to go in the composition class. … When I get observed, my principal will ask, “Where are you in this lesson and this unit of study?” So, what is my unit of study other than what we composed? I can tell you what I’m doing in band. I can tell you what I’m doing in lessons. I can even tell you what I’m doing in percussion, but with this class … (laughs). (Stephen, interview, 10 December 2010)
Reflecting on this quote the following year, Stephen said:
This comes from my classical training. I believe there is a sequence order. But what I think composition is, my students don’t. The first year I taught composition, especially, I would have started with a single concept, and they don’t want to do that. They don’t want to do just melody, or just harmony, or just rhythm. They want to do it all at once instead of starting at the beginning of music (laugh). Let’s not start with a chant or a melody, let’s just jump right in to where we are right now, because that’s what they find relevant. … The more I taught band, the more structure I was able to implement. I started to notice that this year, it’s starting to develop in composition. It took me ten years to feel comfortable teaching in a sequential order in band. So, hopefully after ten years of teaching composition, I’ll be much more comfortable and I’ll have a sequence that flows in my head. Because there’s no set state or national curriculum for me to follow. (Stephen, 12 March 2012)
When Stephen taught band, he wanted to be in control. When approaching the composition class, however, he found students’ small-group work, where they controlled the direction of the curriculum, to be a waste of time and felt uncertain about the student-driven, non-sequential aspect of the curriculum. Whether he articulated it through the metaphors of “being the loudest thing around” or “repairing” their mistakes, Stephen was uncomfortable in the composition class because he felt he lost control of the sequence of the class and the management of time.
Growth: “But I’m trying not to do that in this class”
Despite these difficulties with the differences between himself and his students, his skills in popular music and informal processes, and in the pedagogy of the class, Stephen tried to understand the students’ musical thinking and experiences. This was evident when his ‘official’ vocabulary differed from students’ vocabulary. Stephen took the opportunity to reflect when his ‘correct’ definition of melody contrasted with his students’ definition, in which melodies are only sung.
I listened to a recording of one of the small groups’ compositions and all of a sudden, I hear a melody, and I said, “Oh, there’s a melody, who’s playing the melody?”
The students said, “Oh no, that’s not a melody, that’s a solo.”
I said, “But I hear somebody playing something.”
They responded, “Oh yeah, that’s Pete playing a solo.” So, I was confused.
So, class was over and I was talking to another music teacher and apparently, my terminology is not the same. She said, for them, a melody is the vocalist; the vocals are the melody. But if there’s an instrumental melody, than it’s a solo. And I’m like, “okay.” So then, I started talking about it in a different way….
So finally, I said in class, “create what a singer would do,” and that worked. It’s frustrating, because you need a common vocabulary.
So where does that come from. Is it all them, all you, a combination of both?
We’re kind of meeting in the middle. … Vocabulary is hard, for me especially, because everyone in the class knew what they were talking about but me. I was the outsider. It was a learning curve for me, and it was a steep one. (interview, 10 December 2012)
The class also caused him to question his identity as a trumpet player and the musical skills he possessed.
It’s going to say on my tombstone, “Here lies Steve Austin: A trumpet player” (laughs). It’s so one-dimensional. And part of it is that this class showed me that I’m just a trumpet player because I don’t have the skills to play guitar or drum set. I never followed through with the piano in a way that would help me become a better teacher in the composition class. I could teach a college composition class. I have no doubt, because we’re all going to think the same way. But at times, I question my musicianship in this class. The kids come in and they’re like, “we wrote this song over the weekend,” and they sit down and they play it, and it sounds good, and I can’t do that as a trumpet player. I couldn’t sit down and add my trumpet to their song. I can’t do that, I have no idea, I have a horrible ear. … I’m not able to be a musician like my students, and I’m somewhat depressed at not being able to have those skills. (Stephen, 12 March 2012)
Stephen tried to teach differently in composition from the familiar ways he taught in band. In his words, he was “trying to not do that in this class”. Though his identity and musical thinking was that “of the trumpet” and that caused him to “be the loudest thing around”, he realized that it was not appropriate in this class, and this made him question the value of his classical musician skills.
Conclusions
After 15 years of experience as a band director in several schools, Stephen changed jobs and began teaching a composition elective. Perhaps because of his lack of experience and training in general music, Stephen was more willing to try what appeared to him to be a new and different pedagogy in the composition class. Stephen’s teaching in this composition class may be described as an “informal pedagogy” (Cain, 2013); he changed his teaching to consciously incorporate informal learning practices into his instruction. This incorporated a social-constructivist approach to the classroom, where students contribute to the direction of the curriculum and incorporate their interests (Allsup, 2003; Jaffurs, 2004), which can include popular music (Green, 2002). His teaching did consist of formal strategies as well, and therefore his pedagogical shift can be conceived of as the application of informal learning in a formal setting or what Mok (2010) calls “non-formal” learning. Stephen’s pedagogy moved along the formal-informal continuum, from the more formal instruction he applied in his concert band (Folkestad, 2006), towards informality. Alternatively, it might be appropriate to think of his instruction not as a neat move along a continuum, but as a pedagogy that combined several differing approaches (Cain, 2013). Regardless of its conceptualization, Stephen’s use of an informal pedagogy was the incorporation of ways of teaching that were unfamiliar to him. As other teachers have struggled with informal pedagogy (Green, 2008) and the teaching of composition (Webster, 2012), we wanted to document Stephen’s thought process through this narrative procedure.
Stephen intended his trumpet metaphor to describe one moment in his teaching landscape and his shift to include informal learning. But, folded within that moment are a series of pressures and influences upon his practice. It articulates Stephen’s identity, musical process, pedagogy, and growth, bounded within the “personal and social (interaction); past, present, and future (continuity); combined with the notion of place (situation)” (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000, p. 50). Looking at each of these facets of the landscape provides insights into some teachers’ struggles with an informal pedagogy.
Stephen’s interaction with his landscape was personal and social. Stephen struggled socially with his students. It was difficult for him to understand and accept his students’ desires to learn non-sequentially, to compose in styles that were familiar to them, and to approach music holistically rather than breaking it down into its elements. This made it difficult for him to reconcile their musical processes, their scant use of notation, and what he considered their imprecise use of musical vocabulary. This, in turn, caused him to personally struggle with his classically trained trumpet player identity that was not questioned when he taught band. In line with what researchers have documented in undergraduates’ creation of teacher identities (Ballantyne, 2005; Bernard, 2004; Dolloff, 2007; Natale-Abramo, 2009), Stephen’s education fostered a dualism between teacher and performer and this, to some degree, carried over into his profession as a band director. The composition class, however, challenged this identity because playing on various instruments, using his ear, and composing were not skills that he developed in his undergraduate education. Stephen’s story documents another instance where the teacher/performer identity dualism that is created in teacher education is not adequate for teachers when they enter the profession (Pellegrino, 2009; Scheib, 2007), particularly when they teach composition and creativity (Odena & Welch, 2007, 2012; Randles & Smith, 2012). This suggests that teachers should receive an education in a diversity of experiences. This may be obtained through instruction on more than one instrument (Emmons, 2004), a variety of styles (Odena & Welch, 2012), and through the introduction of ear-playing and improvisation in instrumental studios. If, as Stephen suggests, he “thinks through his [classically-based] trumpet” and this instrument and style engenders certain types of thinking, then students should be given more opportunities to think through a variety of musical practices. This shift towards a diverse music education and emphasis on creativity is interrelated with the structure of schools and the identities it creates. Emphasis on studio placements, which are usually classical in nature, encourages students to strongly take on the identity of a performer of their primary instrument at the expense of others, and focuses their attention on a narrow set of musical skills (Roberts, 1991). Asking students to embrace a variety of musical experiences may contribute to students accepting identities that are more fluid and developing the diverse skills required of pedagogies that use informal learning.
Stephen’s reactions to his shift in pedagogy are also influenced by his situation. He struggled with the change in teaching location, and in particular, the difference in the social class of his students from his previous positions in other districts. In his preceding position in an urban, ethnically and socio-economically diverse community, the students, “for whatever reason, just accepted what the teacher said”. For Joseph, this was tied to issues of inequity in US public education; the students in the poorer district may have accepted or expected teacher-centered approaches, while the students in his current school felt “entitled” to social-constructivist pedagogies. Stephen’s dilemmas with the change in the socio-economic make-up of the student body, while not entirely clear to him, had an influence on what he felt was effective pedagogy. This suggests that the enactment of a pedagogy, whether using informal or any other kind of learning, should not be considered in isolation of its place (Stauffer, 2012), including the social class and cultural characteristics of the school and community (Barrett, 2011; Natale-Abramo, 2009) as well as students’ educational experiences with other educators.
Of the most interest to teacher educators is the continuity within the landscape, particularly the effects of Stephen’s educational past. Stephen’s education – which was limited to traditional ensemble rehearsal technique and other teacher-directed strategies, and performance centered on canonical classical literature through notation reading and the exact recreation of a composer’s intent – shaped his experiences in the composition class. Also, Stephen’s enculturation into formal strategies in teacher education in some ways made it difficult to implement an informal pedagogy, substantiating the view that the formal “has the potential to subvert the informal” (Finney & Philpott, 2010, p. 10).
With little opportunity for exploring informal learning during his education, Stephen had to confront more than an alteration of his teaching techniques when he engaged with social-constructivist strategies. He also had to question the underlying assumptions and epistemologies of the formal, teacher-directed strategies that he had employed in the past. He needed to shift from a view of a musician as one who deciphers notation to one who plays by ear and creates rather than recreates. He had to change his view of knowledge as an objective reality delivered by a teacher in a sequential order to a view that construes knowledge as socially constructed and non-linear. It was not only necessary for him to change the repertoire from classical to popular, but also to question what it meant to be musical. He needed to shift his view of a teacher who is “in control” and “the loudest thing around” and who “repairs” students like a musical instrument, to one that facilitates and even allows students to be “off task”. These disruptions ultimately led to a questioning of the “one-dimensional” fixed identity of “a trumpet player”, leading him to conclude he would be unsatisfied if it were an epithet on his tombstone.
These findings suggest that teacher educators might help students develop general social constructivist pedagogies (Allsup, 2003; Jaffurs, 2004; Webster, 2012; Odena & Welch, 2012), rather than instructional strategies that replicate ‘authentic’ informal learning in formal settings (Allsup et al., 2012). This supports Cain’s (2013) conclusion that effective educators employ strategies in a variety of combinations that defy placement on an informal–formal continuum. This might suggest that teachers’ preparation to use informal learning requires them not only to develop their popular music skills, but also to address the shifts in identity and epistemological beliefs that informal learning may trigger in teachers. As teacher educators prepare teachers to incorporate an informal pedagogy, it may be beneficial not only to foster skills like playing by ear, but also to question the identities that they bring to informal learning. Teachers like Stephen need help navigating the difficult changes in identity and personal beliefs that may accompany embracing an informal pedagogy. Unlike the teacher in Cain’s (2013) study who readily and easily incorporated differing pedagogies, Stephen struggled with pedagogical combinations because of his beliefs and identification. Stephen’s trumpet metaphor speaks to these multifaceted struggles of a teacher making a shift from teacher-directed ensemble direction to student-centered, social-constructivist general music instruction. Teacher educators might help teachers identify and address these struggles.
Despite the struggles and dilemmas, teachers can rewrite their narratives, and change, even if incremental, is possible:
I came to this school and told people, “I’m a band director. I do band, I’ve always done band.” I’ve always tried to teach music in my band class, but I need to do something new as well. So now, I tell people, “I’m a music teacher.” (Stephen, interview, 31 March 2011)
Footnotes
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.