convergence: my music education philosophy
Whether they've written it down or not, most educators have a teaching and learning philosophy. In my first few years as a professor I made a habit of revisiting and rewriting mine because I recognized that it evolved, and I figured that if I could document this evolution, in theory, I could gauge my growth (or lack thereof). My first attempt at this, which proceeds this updated statement of sorts, is pretty standard fare; the kind of thing you need for a job application (in fairness it has helped me get a few jobs). My original statement cites smart and thoughtful people like Maxine Greene, John Dewey, and Nel Noddings. I stand by this statement, it does reflect my educational philosophy to an extent, but the issue is that it is incomplete; it does not fully reflect my philosophy. Long before I cracked the spines of books by leading thinkers in education I had already formed an identity as an educator based on my varied teaching experiences. Enter 'convergence', my ongoing attempt to document and reflect on my most current thinking about my role in education, more specifically music education. It is not prose. It is intended to be messy, albeit hopefully an enticing mess that draws you in like Jackson Pollock's painting. How I've learned music and how I teach music cannot be boiled down to a tidy model. It's more like 'convergence'--random paint streaks all over the canvas that somehow work together to make a whole. But, perhaps this statement would be better titled 'converging' because this is a work in progressing. Time to paint...
personal trainer? The image that comes to mind immediately when I hear the term 'personal trainer' is not a flattering one. I blame those gyms that offer a "free" month of membership every new year on the condition that you allow them to inform you that you're out of shape and that the only solution is to hire them. That aside, I like the analogy of a personal trainer for education at the University level in some regards. Understandably, students that pay tuition have expectations for their education, but what should those expectations be? Definitely not a fee-for-service model, e.g., "I pay you tuition. You give me an A." That would be like going to the gym, never exercising, and being commended for it by your personal trainer. What does a good personal trainer do? To start, they assess you. After they evaluate your current state, they work with you to devise a plan to help you realize your goals. Then comes the work. You have to put the time and effort into the your program, and the trainer's job is to help you along the way: giving you encouragement when you need it the most, and an extra push when they sense you can dig deeper. They help you to recognize how you've progressed, and provide you with strategies to keep progressing. Give the trainer a month and you will witness results. Give the trainer a year and you will be transformed. But there's a catch. It only works if you commit.
Similarly, education is a two-way street. I could be a golden-apple winning teacher of the year, but it wouldn't make a difference if the students never show up. So, like the enterprising personal trainer, the educator needs learners to buy in at the beginning (but not by using guilt and fear!). To that end, I like to question why we, learning teachers and teachers learning, showed up in the first place. What do we aspire to be? What do we hope to do? What are our goals? Are they realistic? How do we assess such things? Big questions often necessitate bigger answers, often formed piecemeal over time. Consistent commitment, that's what I ask for. That means not just doing some things, like the things you like the most, or are most comfortable doing; it means doing ALL the things. This is where trust must be ushered into the teacher-learner relationship. Like the experienced trainer, the educator has an ethical responsibility not to send the learner into a situation for which they are not prepared.
So far, the analogy holds water for the most part, but the reality for any educator is that there is no conceivable way that they've experienced it all before. Arguably, the educator that only "leads" learners by engaging them in experiences that they themselves are already familiar with is a hypocrite because they are modelling "do as I say, not as I do." This need not be an impasse; instead, the educator can unseat oneself as expert. When this shift occurs, the educator willingly relinquishes power/control, ceding it to those previously designated solely as learners; they too, become teachers. Now things become suitably messy. Who is the teacher? Who is the learner? That depends. What's the context?
to be continued...
personal trainer? The image that comes to mind immediately when I hear the term 'personal trainer' is not a flattering one. I blame those gyms that offer a "free" month of membership every new year on the condition that you allow them to inform you that you're out of shape and that the only solution is to hire them. That aside, I like the analogy of a personal trainer for education at the University level in some regards. Understandably, students that pay tuition have expectations for their education, but what should those expectations be? Definitely not a fee-for-service model, e.g., "I pay you tuition. You give me an A." That would be like going to the gym, never exercising, and being commended for it by your personal trainer. What does a good personal trainer do? To start, they assess you. After they evaluate your current state, they work with you to devise a plan to help you realize your goals. Then comes the work. You have to put the time and effort into the your program, and the trainer's job is to help you along the way: giving you encouragement when you need it the most, and an extra push when they sense you can dig deeper. They help you to recognize how you've progressed, and provide you with strategies to keep progressing. Give the trainer a month and you will witness results. Give the trainer a year and you will be transformed. But there's a catch. It only works if you commit.
Similarly, education is a two-way street. I could be a golden-apple winning teacher of the year, but it wouldn't make a difference if the students never show up. So, like the enterprising personal trainer, the educator needs learners to buy in at the beginning (but not by using guilt and fear!). To that end, I like to question why we, learning teachers and teachers learning, showed up in the first place. What do we aspire to be? What do we hope to do? What are our goals? Are they realistic? How do we assess such things? Big questions often necessitate bigger answers, often formed piecemeal over time. Consistent commitment, that's what I ask for. That means not just doing some things, like the things you like the most, or are most comfortable doing; it means doing ALL the things. This is where trust must be ushered into the teacher-learner relationship. Like the experienced trainer, the educator has an ethical responsibility not to send the learner into a situation for which they are not prepared.
So far, the analogy holds water for the most part, but the reality for any educator is that there is no conceivable way that they've experienced it all before. Arguably, the educator that only "leads" learners by engaging them in experiences that they themselves are already familiar with is a hypocrite because they are modelling "do as I say, not as I do." This need not be an impasse; instead, the educator can unseat oneself as expert. When this shift occurs, the educator willingly relinquishes power/control, ceding it to those previously designated solely as learners; they too, become teachers. Now things become suitably messy. Who is the teacher? Who is the learner? That depends. What's the context?
to be continued...
(Old-er) philosophy
philosophy: I have a few different statements I've written for different populations:
1. Children or people who just want the gist;
2. My current students (University-level);
3. My peers (others working in higher education).
For Children:
Music is for everyone.
I recommend reading Music is for Everyone by Jill Barber and Sydney Smith:
1. Children or people who just want the gist;
2. My current students (University-level);
3. My peers (others working in higher education).
For Children:
Music is for everyone.
I recommend reading Music is for Everyone by Jill Barber and Sydney Smith:
For my peers in higher education:
Our classrooms ought to be nurturing and thoughtful and just all at once; they ought to pulsate with multiple conceptions of what it is to be human and alive. They ought to resound with the voices of articulate young people in dialogues always incomplete because there is always more to be discovered and more to be said.
- Maxine Greene
As Dewey’s Experience and Education (1938) conveys, I believe that an educator needs to be “intimately acquainted” with the historical, social, economic, and cultural context of his or her students’ lives, constituting a global perspective—learning is situated, it does not occur in a vacuum. Heeding the advice of Dewey and Greene, I strive to be sensitive to the needs of my students. Recognizing that there are multiple lenses through which to view the world, I want to understand and appreciate my students’ perspectives. Further, I seek to be transparent with my students, making my views clear, but also emphasizing that my perception is one of many within the classroom; all viewpoints deserve to be voiced and heard. I aim to establish the classroom as an incubator of constructive conversations with the overarching aim of fostering critical thinking. With these core precepts in place, the climate for learning is ripe.
Nel Noddings’ philosophy of care stresses that the educator, “must represent whole persons, not just instructors, in their relations with students. Students need to see that the possibilities advertised as inherent in education are real possibilities for their own futures” (Philosophy of Education, 1995). Convicted by Noddings’ charge, I endeavour to model my pedagogical philosophy in my teaching. Each learner is unique and my seminars and lectures incorporate multiple modes of disseminating information such that different learning styles can be accommodated. There are many paths to learning music and there is no “one-size fits all” approach.
To foster all students’ musical and intellectual development, I scaffold learning experiences that balance challenge with ability to promote flow. I am constantly gauging my students to evaluate where they are situated in the learning process, identifying collaboratively where they need to go next, and mapping the best path to get them to the next destination. I enjoy journeying down this unending road, on which, in a “Deweyan” sense, learning begets more learning. Optimally, our musical appetites are continually whetted, but never satiated, thus we constantly return to the figurative table of learning, craving more.
The writings of Greene, Dewey, and Noddings resonate with me because they emphasize the critical role music education can play in fostering caring citizens that will shape our communities for the better. I undertake the role of being a music educator with a great sense of humility and respect knowing that my students will look to me for answers I cannot always provide because there are many areas on the map of musical inquiry that lie in unchartered territory. The best teacher is akin to a guide, someone who knows the lay of the land well and can help students prepare for their journeys and adventures in the musical realm. This mentality will ensure that the future of music-making will continue to integrate a diversity of perspectives and ideas, giving way to an ever-changing musical landscape that is only limited by our imaginations.
Our classrooms ought to be nurturing and thoughtful and just all at once; they ought to pulsate with multiple conceptions of what it is to be human and alive. They ought to resound with the voices of articulate young people in dialogues always incomplete because there is always more to be discovered and more to be said.
- Maxine Greene
As Dewey’s Experience and Education (1938) conveys, I believe that an educator needs to be “intimately acquainted” with the historical, social, economic, and cultural context of his or her students’ lives, constituting a global perspective—learning is situated, it does not occur in a vacuum. Heeding the advice of Dewey and Greene, I strive to be sensitive to the needs of my students. Recognizing that there are multiple lenses through which to view the world, I want to understand and appreciate my students’ perspectives. Further, I seek to be transparent with my students, making my views clear, but also emphasizing that my perception is one of many within the classroom; all viewpoints deserve to be voiced and heard. I aim to establish the classroom as an incubator of constructive conversations with the overarching aim of fostering critical thinking. With these core precepts in place, the climate for learning is ripe.
Nel Noddings’ philosophy of care stresses that the educator, “must represent whole persons, not just instructors, in their relations with students. Students need to see that the possibilities advertised as inherent in education are real possibilities for their own futures” (Philosophy of Education, 1995). Convicted by Noddings’ charge, I endeavour to model my pedagogical philosophy in my teaching. Each learner is unique and my seminars and lectures incorporate multiple modes of disseminating information such that different learning styles can be accommodated. There are many paths to learning music and there is no “one-size fits all” approach.
To foster all students’ musical and intellectual development, I scaffold learning experiences that balance challenge with ability to promote flow. I am constantly gauging my students to evaluate where they are situated in the learning process, identifying collaboratively where they need to go next, and mapping the best path to get them to the next destination. I enjoy journeying down this unending road, on which, in a “Deweyan” sense, learning begets more learning. Optimally, our musical appetites are continually whetted, but never satiated, thus we constantly return to the figurative table of learning, craving more.
The writings of Greene, Dewey, and Noddings resonate with me because they emphasize the critical role music education can play in fostering caring citizens that will shape our communities for the better. I undertake the role of being a music educator with a great sense of humility and respect knowing that my students will look to me for answers I cannot always provide because there are many areas on the map of musical inquiry that lie in unchartered territory. The best teacher is akin to a guide, someone who knows the lay of the land well and can help students prepare for their journeys and adventures in the musical realm. This mentality will ensure that the future of music-making will continue to integrate a diversity of perspectives and ideas, giving way to an ever-changing musical landscape that is only limited by our imaginations.