In the first Noddings chapter, she first examines historical education philosophers and how their ideas have permeated through time. As she gets to Rosseau, she asks the question "Must they occur in cycles?" referring to the ideological swings in educational philosophy? This made me wonder how the cycles occur. In my own lifetime, the pendulum started swinging hard towards "accountability" first with Reagan in A Nation at Risk, then Clinton with the push for "certificate of mastery" instead of diplomas and the rise of magnet schools and arguments for vouchers starting to take hold. Then as I started my teaching career, No Child Left Behind was passed and all of the previous ideas solidified and embedded themselves in an insidious way. Only now, almost twenty years later from that point have we even begun to question the path that A Nation at Risk set us on. And it has felt like a behemoth task to even question it when very powerful people hold the reins. Especially our current Secretary of Education* who makes decisions that affect us all, I am sure has never examined any educational philosophy, as she has made it clear she does not believe in public education at all, and has no justification other than public education is "failing" (which means she also cannot read basic empirical research or refuses to do so). In that light, it feels like an exercise in futility to debate philosophical approaches when the people that control education in this country are not being equally thoughtful.
Regarding Noddings' first example about school vouchers, I found this article just this morning and basically sums up how I feel. It's not an attack on the parents themselves, but on their reasoning for acting as they do, but fits into what sociologists refer to as the theory of "laissez-faire racism." An attack on the argument and the inherent structures that cause parents to make the decisions they do. And it connects to my statements above---how can we (educators) have a debate among ourselves about how to educate students when the people controlling the system (legislators and bureaucrats) are still fighting us on the who by actively manipulating parents through fear?
Nevertheless, as the saying goes, she persisted. So I read and think on.
In this same way, on the Dewey chapter, Noddings talks about how Dewey's ultimate aim for education was growth for its own sake. And he received pushback, I believe, because the word "education" then (as now) implies a structure, with assumptions about specific outcomes that direct policy and decision making at every level. Had he used the word "learning" instead, maybe he would not have received so much pushback, and that particular theory would have been more universally accepted. Or, by using the word "learning" he could have pushed the definition of "education."
For example, when we speak of meeting students where they are in music (the modern translation of Dewey's experiential model), we talk about starting with music they listen to, such as hip-hop or rock, and then building from that point to the concepts we think they should know (usually musical literacy and classical Western music repertoire). The problem with that, though is, as Noddings says "teachers must ask where a given experience may lead." Without this mindfulness of the process and the end goal, you may end up with a class doing THIS. Therefore, using Dewey's dialectical method, can we resolve the seemingly opposite ends of music education by approaching students where they are with thoughtfulness so that we can accomplish two things: One, students have a voice in their own learning and two, check ourselves with our tendency to impose knowledge on students that may or may not be useful to them?
Friday, January 31, 2020
Friday, January 24, 2020
Lazy brain part deux
In my first blog post, I wrote about how human brains are lazy. This week's readings forced me to confront my own lazy brain. I like checklists, and I like order. So I read the readings in the order they were presented in the reader on Blackboard. Had I even glanced at the content I would have realized I should have started with Nettl and moved backwards to Kant. But I didn't, so I spent two hours struggling with the first ten or so pages of Kant while my brain is screaming "I hate reading translations. I hate 19th century flowery writing!" Or early 20th century. Whatever.
In any case, all of the readings kept bringing up memories of a class I taught at a community college a couple of years ago. The title was "World Beat" and it was meant to be an introductory survey class of ethnomusicology. It was a very popular class because it was a dual credit fulfillment of both Fine Arts and Social Sciences. And since I was given free reign to create whatever lessons I wanted, I structured it this way:
Week-----> Region or Area of the world ---------> Musical concept------->Social Studies concept
So in Week 1, we studied West Africa, rhythms, and the African diaspora/slave trade and how that affected music development. In Week 2, it was the Middle East, and we talked about pitch and modes and scales and the explosion of music produced during the Arab Spring was used for protest and how protest music can be a powerful tool. Another week we discussed Native Americans (specifically Salish Coast), how music and visual art are connected, and the function of music as a storytelling device that can capture the oral history of a people. It was the most fun I've ever had teaching music and I hope someday I get to do it again because of course there are a thousand little things I'd adjust and change and refine.
The readings brought me back to this class because one of the first topics we discussed in class is "what is music?" because listening to unfamiliar sounds without any warning or prior experience with music education can result in a student reacting negatively and closing off without further examination of what they're actually hearing. Both quarters that I taught this class they came up with a working definition of "organized noise and silences for the purpose of communication." But communicating what? And to whom? Is it a noun or a verb? Small gives us some answers in Musicking. He argues that music is a verb, something we do, and that any participation in any capacity means you are musicking. Of course with any verb there are passive and active ways of doing. He also says "not so much about music as it is about people" and the ways they use music to interact with one another. I realize now THAT is the real lesson I was teaching my World Beat class.
However, this goes back to Kant, in that if music is about people, then when we make judgments about art, we are also making judgments on people, and preconceived notions and biases about the people and their intentions may color our view of the art (some of my readings from Sociology of Race might also be sneaking into my head here). So what we perceive to be beautiful will always be affected by our own experiences and knowledge, which Small and Nettl both say is problematic because we, as experts in Western Classical Art Music will always have a tendency to use that as the default to compare everything else, even when being mindful of that bias.
We must also then, be mindful of how we present "other" musics to our students. For instance, to explain didgeridoo as it relates to European brass instruments. Or comparing banda to polka. Again, this brings me back to my World Beat students, because many of them were immigrants with no American school music experience, and Western Art Music was just as foreign to them as everything else. It forced me to be more objective in my presentation, pointing out similarities to other things we had listened to but analogies to my "standard" were useless.
However, I think the most salient point is made by Small when he says "the fundamental nature and meaning of music lie not in objects, not in musical works at all, but in action, in what people do." And this is fundamental to music education because we do this thing as a group, interactively. Even in a lecture style college class, the interaction IS the thing. The connection IS the thing.
In any case, all of the readings kept bringing up memories of a class I taught at a community college a couple of years ago. The title was "World Beat" and it was meant to be an introductory survey class of ethnomusicology. It was a very popular class because it was a dual credit fulfillment of both Fine Arts and Social Sciences. And since I was given free reign to create whatever lessons I wanted, I structured it this way:
Week-----> Region or Area of the world ---------> Musical concept------->Social Studies concept
So in Week 1, we studied West Africa, rhythms, and the African diaspora/slave trade and how that affected music development. In Week 2, it was the Middle East, and we talked about pitch and modes and scales and the explosion of music produced during the Arab Spring was used for protest and how protest music can be a powerful tool. Another week we discussed Native Americans (specifically Salish Coast), how music and visual art are connected, and the function of music as a storytelling device that can capture the oral history of a people. It was the most fun I've ever had teaching music and I hope someday I get to do it again because of course there are a thousand little things I'd adjust and change and refine.
The readings brought me back to this class because one of the first topics we discussed in class is "what is music?" because listening to unfamiliar sounds without any warning or prior experience with music education can result in a student reacting negatively and closing off without further examination of what they're actually hearing. Both quarters that I taught this class they came up with a working definition of "organized noise and silences for the purpose of communication." But communicating what? And to whom? Is it a noun or a verb? Small gives us some answers in Musicking. He argues that music is a verb, something we do, and that any participation in any capacity means you are musicking. Of course with any verb there are passive and active ways of doing. He also says "not so much about music as it is about people" and the ways they use music to interact with one another. I realize now THAT is the real lesson I was teaching my World Beat class.
However, this goes back to Kant, in that if music is about people, then when we make judgments about art, we are also making judgments on people, and preconceived notions and biases about the people and their intentions may color our view of the art (some of my readings from Sociology of Race might also be sneaking into my head here). So what we perceive to be beautiful will always be affected by our own experiences and knowledge, which Small and Nettl both say is problematic because we, as experts in Western Classical Art Music will always have a tendency to use that as the default to compare everything else, even when being mindful of that bias.
We must also then, be mindful of how we present "other" musics to our students. For instance, to explain didgeridoo as it relates to European brass instruments. Or comparing banda to polka. Again, this brings me back to my World Beat students, because many of them were immigrants with no American school music experience, and Western Art Music was just as foreign to them as everything else. It forced me to be more objective in my presentation, pointing out similarities to other things we had listened to but analogies to my "standard" were useless.
However, I think the most salient point is made by Small when he says "the fundamental nature and meaning of music lie not in objects, not in musical works at all, but in action, in what people do." And this is fundamental to music education because we do this thing as a group, interactively. Even in a lecture style college class, the interaction IS the thing. The connection IS the thing.
Wednesday, January 15, 2020
Philosophy #2 Human Brains are Lazy
In what ways do these readings challenge you to think differently or offer you new insights about art?
Source readings for reference: Elliot & Silverman, Music Matters pp. 24-43; Dewey, How we Think pp. 1-8; Freeland, But is it art?
How we think
I began with Dewey's How we think because it appeared to set the stage for the other two. How can we begin to understand art and what it means without first understanding how our brains process information?
Dewey's definition of different kinds of thoughts are 1) Passing fancies ("My daughter really likes that unicorn stuffy") 2) Non-sensory, storytelling, imagination ("Hey Mommy, what if the unicorn was best friends with the kitty?") 3) Beliefs or assumptions that are unquestioned ("all little girls like unicorns, so that's what I'll get Noelle for her birthday") and 4) Reflection with intention and purpose ("I know Noelle likes unicorns because she told me so, therefore I have evidence that purchasing a stuffed unicorn wouldn't be a waste of money).
As I read several things struck me: His definitions, written in 1910, are still very much relevant. He warns that #2 imaginative storytelling can mimic #4, especially if there is logical flow to it. The way to discern between the two is the intention of pursuing knowledge, belief about facts or truth. I think society's general frustration with modern media stems from this. The reporting we typically see in cable news is not about following facts to a logical conclusion, but rather using facts to create a narrative that serves some purpose or another. How this relates to arts is that we have seen an explosion of artistic satire that pokes fun at the storytelling while also presenting available facts for the audience to draw their own conclusions---promoting reflective thought. Elliot and Silverman reference Stephen Colbert's coinage of the term "truthiness" to make this same point.
This led me to think of two other things: MANY years ago I read both of Rush Limbaugh's first two books. Something that he talked about a lot in the books and on his radio show at that time was how "most people don't actually think, because it's hard work" (And I would say his conclusion is correct as he's built a pretty successful career on that premise).
I also thought of Amanda Ripley, the author of a book called "The Unthinkable" which discusses human behavior in the face of large disasters. In popular media the scripted reaction to a disaster is to panic, run around, scream, etc. What Ms. Ripley documents in her book is that the human brain actually freezes up when presented with new information, because as with all of our muscles, our brains are happiest when being lazy and habitual. When the brain freezes, we call this "cognitive dissonance" and it causes a negative emotional reaction. In a non-emergency situation, the typical reaction is to defend from the negative emotion (thus causing the doubling-down on positions that can't otherwise be defended, the more commonly called "mental gymnastics"). In an emergency situation, the brain has to process the atypical situation and come up with a fact-based logical conclusion about what to do next. THIS is the actual thinking that Dewey refers to in #4. Perplexity, hesitation, searching, inquiry, conclusion. And it takes time for the brain to do this, thus causing the non-Hollywood reaction of "freezing up"
(There's a lot more I could say about this book, it's amazing and fascinating and everyone should read it, along with "What's the Worst That Could Happen" by Greg Craven that discusses cognitive dissonance in way more detail).
The function of philosophy
I think part of the brilliance of the way my master's program was set up was that we weren't stuffed full of facts and knowledge and then sent on our way with a certificate. For six weeks at a time, everything we thought we knew was pulled apart and questioned, examined, and then put back together with new information that we could choose to incorporate or not. Then we were sent back to our classrooms to put into practice what we learned. Rinse and repeat for four years. This constant evolution of our collective classrooms was a result of philosophy being incorporated into every class, though ranging from subtle to overt. We were constantly challenged to examine our practice and then apply what we learned. It's no wonder that so many of us chose to continue to challenge ourselves in various ways.
As Elliott and Silverman say, mindless teaching is dangerous, because if you don't know why you do something a certain way, you can actually damage a student. For instance, why do we use letter grades? What useful information does it actually give us? Empirical research says it affects student opinions of themselves, and their motivation. Letter grades also are known in empirical research to only represent how well a student can adapt to their environment, not how much of a subject they've actually mastered. Why do we use them, then?
But is it art?
My daughter suckered me into watching "America's Got Talent" last night and there was a group of young people from Myanmar who did a performance piece with light and shadows to tell a story of two children who grew up without parents due to war. Set to Billie Eilish and Khalid's "Lovely," not a single face was dry at the end, including the performers. I was introduced to that song by my last 5th grade group when we did our soundtrack project. Seeing that song used in that way made me think about how many of those 5th graders were immigrants and refugees from places like the performers were describing in their story. Hell, I can't even type this paragraph without crying.
So when Freeland asks "but is it art?" I think of my undergrad professors who talked about how neat it is when a child can perform some virtuosic piece of music but it never moved him to emotion other than "wow that's a neat trick" because the student is not putting their own emotion into the process and therefore not really communicating with the audience. Humans long for connection, and art is a way of connecting with others. Anything that promotes a dialogue (through reflective thought, not just speaking or writing) could therefore be considered art of some form.
As arts educators, maybe this means we should be asking not only the "why" questions but also the "why not?"
Source readings for reference: Elliot & Silverman, Music Matters pp. 24-43; Dewey, How we Think pp. 1-8; Freeland, But is it art?
How we think
I began with Dewey's How we think because it appeared to set the stage for the other two. How can we begin to understand art and what it means without first understanding how our brains process information?
Dewey's definition of different kinds of thoughts are 1) Passing fancies ("My daughter really likes that unicorn stuffy") 2) Non-sensory, storytelling, imagination ("Hey Mommy, what if the unicorn was best friends with the kitty?") 3) Beliefs or assumptions that are unquestioned ("all little girls like unicorns, so that's what I'll get Noelle for her birthday") and 4) Reflection with intention and purpose ("I know Noelle likes unicorns because she told me so, therefore I have evidence that purchasing a stuffed unicorn wouldn't be a waste of money).
As I read several things struck me: His definitions, written in 1910, are still very much relevant. He warns that #2 imaginative storytelling can mimic #4, especially if there is logical flow to it. The way to discern between the two is the intention of pursuing knowledge, belief about facts or truth. I think society's general frustration with modern media stems from this. The reporting we typically see in cable news is not about following facts to a logical conclusion, but rather using facts to create a narrative that serves some purpose or another. How this relates to arts is that we have seen an explosion of artistic satire that pokes fun at the storytelling while also presenting available facts for the audience to draw their own conclusions---promoting reflective thought. Elliot and Silverman reference Stephen Colbert's coinage of the term "truthiness" to make this same point.
This led me to think of two other things: MANY years ago I read both of Rush Limbaugh's first two books. Something that he talked about a lot in the books and on his radio show at that time was how "most people don't actually think, because it's hard work" (And I would say his conclusion is correct as he's built a pretty successful career on that premise).
I also thought of Amanda Ripley, the author of a book called "The Unthinkable" which discusses human behavior in the face of large disasters. In popular media the scripted reaction to a disaster is to panic, run around, scream, etc. What Ms. Ripley documents in her book is that the human brain actually freezes up when presented with new information, because as with all of our muscles, our brains are happiest when being lazy and habitual. When the brain freezes, we call this "cognitive dissonance" and it causes a negative emotional reaction. In a non-emergency situation, the typical reaction is to defend from the negative emotion (thus causing the doubling-down on positions that can't otherwise be defended, the more commonly called "mental gymnastics"). In an emergency situation, the brain has to process the atypical situation and come up with a fact-based logical conclusion about what to do next. THIS is the actual thinking that Dewey refers to in #4. Perplexity, hesitation, searching, inquiry, conclusion. And it takes time for the brain to do this, thus causing the non-Hollywood reaction of "freezing up"
(There's a lot more I could say about this book, it's amazing and fascinating and everyone should read it, along with "What's the Worst That Could Happen" by Greg Craven that discusses cognitive dissonance in way more detail).
The function of philosophy
I think part of the brilliance of the way my master's program was set up was that we weren't stuffed full of facts and knowledge and then sent on our way with a certificate. For six weeks at a time, everything we thought we knew was pulled apart and questioned, examined, and then put back together with new information that we could choose to incorporate or not. Then we were sent back to our classrooms to put into practice what we learned. Rinse and repeat for four years. This constant evolution of our collective classrooms was a result of philosophy being incorporated into every class, though ranging from subtle to overt. We were constantly challenged to examine our practice and then apply what we learned. It's no wonder that so many of us chose to continue to challenge ourselves in various ways.
As Elliott and Silverman say, mindless teaching is dangerous, because if you don't know why you do something a certain way, you can actually damage a student. For instance, why do we use letter grades? What useful information does it actually give us? Empirical research says it affects student opinions of themselves, and their motivation. Letter grades also are known in empirical research to only represent how well a student can adapt to their environment, not how much of a subject they've actually mastered. Why do we use them, then?
But is it art?
My daughter suckered me into watching "America's Got Talent" last night and there was a group of young people from Myanmar who did a performance piece with light and shadows to tell a story of two children who grew up without parents due to war. Set to Billie Eilish and Khalid's "Lovely," not a single face was dry at the end, including the performers. I was introduced to that song by my last 5th grade group when we did our soundtrack project. Seeing that song used in that way made me think about how many of those 5th graders were immigrants and refugees from places like the performers were describing in their story. Hell, I can't even type this paragraph without crying.
So when Freeland asks "but is it art?" I think of my undergrad professors who talked about how neat it is when a child can perform some virtuosic piece of music but it never moved him to emotion other than "wow that's a neat trick" because the student is not putting their own emotion into the process and therefore not really communicating with the audience. Humans long for connection, and art is a way of connecting with others. Anything that promotes a dialogue (through reflective thought, not just speaking or writing) could therefore be considered art of some form.
As arts educators, maybe this means we should be asking not only the "why" questions but also the "why not?"
Tuesday, January 14, 2020
Philosophy #1 BIG QUESTIONS!!
For my philosophy of music education class, we have to create blog entries. For the sake of continuity, I'm going to continue using this format because then I'll be able to compare the changes in my thinking to prior blog entries. 😀
Ten BIG questions I have about music education (that I am somewhat sure cannot be answered empirically):
1. Should music be part of the regular school day?
2. Could music be offered in secondary schools in a similar format as P.E.?
3. Why do we think of instruments as being gendered?
4. How do we decide who the "experts" are in our field?
5. Is it useful to measure music for school accountability?
6. Is piano proficiency really necessary for college music majors?
7. Is it more important to build knowledge or creativity in a music classroom?
8. Why is band the "public face" of a music program?
9. Is music education valuable for its own sake or only to supplement other things?
10. Does it matter if music teachers have pedagogical training?
Ten BIG questions I have about music education (that I am somewhat sure cannot be answered empirically):
1. Should music be part of the regular school day?
2. Could music be offered in secondary schools in a similar format as P.E.?
3. Why do we think of instruments as being gendered?
4. How do we decide who the "experts" are in our field?
5. Is it useful to measure music for school accountability?
6. Is piano proficiency really necessary for college music majors?
7. Is it more important to build knowledge or creativity in a music classroom?
8. Why is band the "public face" of a music program?
9. Is music education valuable for its own sake or only to supplement other things?
10. Does it matter if music teachers have pedagogical training?
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