CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION

The Evolution of the Questions

Social Justice - School Reform - Equity Lenses

Multiculturalism - Privilege - Critical Pedagogies

Empowerment - Rethinking Schools - Microaggressions

Inclusion - Critical Race Theory - Culturally Responsive Teaching

School-to-Prison Pipeline - Restorative Justice - Ethnic Studies

SAT - SEL - Poverty - Trauma - Home Cultures

Writing across the Curriculum - Students with Disabilities - PLC

Student-Centered Learning - ELL - PBIS - Scaffolding

Engagement - Relevance - Global Citizens - Achievement Gap

Deficit Perspective - High Stakes Testing - ESL - LGBTQIA

Anti-racist Education - Career-readiness - Race to the Top

“Umm… we have no idea what to do.”

Ideas, Opportunities, Demands… Lead to Questions

There are so many ideas, opportunities, demands, concepts, goals, changes, expectations, “reforms,” and potential strategies relative to social justice and equity in school settings for teachers to absorb, learn, master, and implement. Which ones are the priority? (All of them?) Which ones are doable in a given teaching context? Which ones are required? Which ones are authorized? Which ones will be supported? Which ones will get me in trouble? My dissertation journey began with questions, and these questions led to further questions. Questions related to my own teaching practice, and to the goal at hand – my dissertation research project. What will my research ask and seek to learn?

I started out asking the kinds of questions that nagged at me as well as those that I heard other teachers asking, especially those teachers thinking about and striving to implement social justice objectives and strategies in their teaching contexts. What if my goals and strategies are wrong? What if I believe their goals or strategies are wrong? What happens when desired outcomes or expectations conflict? What happens when definitions are unclear or intentions uncertain? Where do I go to learn about [fill in the blank]? When do I do this learning? What happens when my conscience and my orders from higherups are opposed? What if I make a mistake? Who do I trust? Who are the real experts? How do I know who has it right, and who has it all wrong? What if I think they’re right but you think they’re wrong? Or vice versa? What does [fill in the blank] even mean?

Here’s a recent post in a Facebook discussion group for music teachers:

“With critical race theory being a current topic in education, school boards, etc., has anyone thought about if this would affect how you teach (I'm thinking jazz and minstrel music)?” (personal communication, August 2021). Sample answers come from the comments of group members replying to the post:

Sample Answer 1:

“I’m not directly impacted by any proposed legislation right now, but my understanding is in many cases the wording of these laws is so meaningless or clumsy it doesn’t actually preclude educators from doing much” (personal communication, August 2021).

Sample Answer 2:

“Given most of these boards don't actually know what CRT means, unless they actually define it, I imagine you keep teaching as normal. The scariest bills are the ones like in Ohio that say you can't teach ‘controversial topics.’ So much for the ‘free marketplace of ideas’” (personal communication, August 2021).

Sample Answer 3:

“Critical race theory is merely a conservative talking point devised so that white people can hide behind their racism. I teach African musical influences as the basis of American musical forms. Music notation is harder to square though because cross and polyrhythms require an advanced understanding of fractions” (personal communication, August 2021).

Similar discussions echo across myriad teacher groups, large and small, public and private, online and in person. Hundreds of questions across dozens of groups involving thousands of participants, every hour of the day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. I know this because I participate in many of these teacher groups, actively, daily, and have been participating in this manner for many years.

I am a music teacher, and I have taught music (band, choir, piano, guitar, voice, general music, advanced placement (AP) music theory, rock band, and musical theater) to diverse populations in diverse settings – public school, private school, private studio, elementary school, middle school, high school, and adults. Throughout my dissertation, I rely, in part, on the epistemic privilege that arises out of my experiences as a student, as a teacher, as a musician, as an educational leader, and as a collaborator with other students, teachers, musicians, and educational leaders. This direct experience with and participation in music education and education in general situates me in my study, guides both my understanding and my curiosity, informs my questions and thus my research, and I am hoping will provide useful data, answers, and insights to benefit the future direction and application of my and other educators’ work.

Narrowing the Questions: Toward Social Justice in Music Education

What do music educators do, what do they think about, when, if, and as they decide to do something related to social justice work in their music classrooms? What do they consider? What do they envision? Who do they talk to? What do they read? How do they define social justice work? What are their hopes? What are their fears? How do they start? Do they start? Do they get discouraged? Or do they gain confidence? What are their impediments and how do they address them? How do they succeed and what does success look like? How do they fail and what does failure look like? What do they learn during all this, and what does the learning mean for them and their practice? What is unique about music education vis-à-vis social justice work?

These are the kinds of questions I sought to learn more about. One, it’s about students. Two, it’s about teachers. First and foremost, education must benefit students. Students are the primary focus and goal of education. If we are not educating students, if students are not learning, if students are not benefiting, then what is the purpose of education? And if some students are in fact benefiting, does that mean all students are benefiting? What does benefiting look like to different types of students? Which students are meant to benefit? Secondly, students need teachers. Teachers are critical in the process of educating students. Teachers may be broadly defined – teachers, coaches, directors, mentors, tutors, facilitators, authors, developers, collaborators, counselors, role models… If our goal is to provide teaching that benefits students, we must provide teachers who can do this.

It’s About Students

What is teaching that benefits students? And how do teachers become teachers who teach in a way that benefits students? It seems self-evident that today, within P-12 education in the United States, much teaching benefits many students much of the time. Graduation rates, test scores, grades, promotions, diplomas, college acceptances and admissions, scholarship awards, student surveys, and a number of other metrics provide evidence in support of this. Yet what seems equally true is that not all teaching benefits all students all the time. The same (inverse) metrics provide evidence in support of this as well (e.g., Au, 2014; J. Banks, 2008/2014; Bates, 2018; Bigelow, 2006; Christensen, 2009; Davidson, 2014; Fine, 1991; Fullan, 2010; Gatto, 2002; Greene, 1988; Gutstein & Peterson, 2013; hooks, 1994; Marshall & Sensoy, 2016; Mattern, 2019; McLaren, 1986/1999; Mirra et al., 2016; Motha, 2014; Nieto, 2002; E. Palmer, 2018; Salvador, 2019; Schultz, 2011).

For me, social justice work in education begins with the acknowledgment that not all students are benefiting from the teaching that is being provided to them, and in fact some are being harmed by it. A teacher who recognizes this, and then strives to improve teaching so that all, or at least more, students benefit from their teaching, and none are harmed by it, is striving to do social justice work in education. Social justice work in education might include efforts toward equity, fairness, inclusion, multiculturalism, multilingualism, student advocacy, student choice, and student voice. Social justice work in education – in teaching – might be called social justice pedagogies. Social justice pedagogies potentially provide substantial enough benefit to more students – and to society – that doing so offsets arguments made by wealthier and more privileged parents, teachers, and administrators who believe, for example, that the “best” students “lose out” by having a less competitive “marching band” or “show choir” or “AP music theory class.” Social justice pedagogies ask us to think about (music, and all) education in interdependent, rather than independent, terms.

Within my dissertation, at times I use narrative and vignettes to help me communicate and highlight certain situations, experiences, and feelings. Sometimes stories inform, enlighten, and enhance explanations. The following vignettes are emblematic of phenomena I have participated in, witnessed, or heard about from other teachers, parents, or students. My experiences tend to mirror theirs, and vice-versa.

VIGNETTE #1

The choir teacher prepares the concert performance video from all the individual students’ recorded submissions using multimedia editing software. Some of the children sing in tune and in perfect rhythm; others are off-key or behind the beat. The teacher wants to produce a video of the highest quality possible to spotlight the choir’s abilities, to help her students feel good about themselves, to make their parents proud, and to avoid potential embarrassment. The off-key, out-of-rhythm voices reduce the overall choral quality. She decides to cut out the “problematic” voices, to double some of the stronger voices, and to include her own voice in the mix to beef up the sound quality.

Granted, during this time of the COVID-19 epidemic, everyone is dealing with unprecedented situations. Nevertheless, similar decisions are made during normal times as well. Students are asked by teachers to move their mouths but not to sing. Students are encouraged to become stagehands rather than sing with the ensemble. Student voices are literally silenced, and students are intentionally left out, or left behind.

VIGNETTE #2

The first-year band teacher, to be more inclusive and to invite more students in, relaxes audition requirements for all levels of the band program. In particular, he completely removes any audition requirement for the beginning percussion class and allows all students to elect to participate, including students with disabilities.

The band program does increase enrollment in that first year, and especially, the percussion class size triples, and includes both boys and girls for the first time ever. While the new class model introduces challenges, including behavior concerns and the need for greater individualization and differentiation of instruction, the percussion class achieves some success and even performs at the first band concert of the year.

Parent (in a conversation with the band teacher and the principal): “That was the worst band concert in the history of our school. It was an embarrassment.”

The band teacher was not asked to return the following year.

The success of a band program is often assessed based on the perceived quality of performances and received accolades, including concerts, football games, awards at festivals and competitions, and invitations to perform at special, elite, off-site locations such as amusement parks (Disneyland) and tour venues, rather than the learning that takes place among individual students or in collaboration with multiple students. In fact, sometimes, students are asked by teachers to hold their instruments in posing or marching posture but not to play them, students are cut from performances due to low academic achievement (including consideration of grades in other classes) or poor behavior, and students are cut from performing groups through audition policies and procedures which strive to ensure only the most talented and accomplished are selected to participate. Teachers are pressured to focus on the quality of ensemble performance even at the expense of individual student participation, instruction, and learning.

VIGNETTE #3

Students are invited to write a poem which later will be used as the basis for lyrics, and then setting the lyrics to music in composing a song for the songwriting class. The music teacher’s intention is to have the songs produced and recorded and/or performed live for an audience of students, parents, and faculty at the end of the semester.

One student writes a poem in their home language of Ebonics, which she intends to transform into a hip hop song. In addition to what appears to the music teacher as “slang,” there are also some potential “vulgarities” in the language and content. The teacher is not sure how to respond to this writing. Her initial reaction is to ask the student to rewrite their poem using “Standard English” and to avoid vulgar words and topics.

Another student writes their poem about an experience of child abuse. It is unclear whether the abuse is something the child experienced or is imagining creatively, or some combination of the two. The teacher is not sure how to respond to this writing (or if there are mandatory reporting requirements involved). Her initial reaction is to ask the student to rewrite their poem, and to keep to topics and experiences that are more appropriate for school.

Another student writes a poem of love that is directed toward a person of the same sex. The teacher is unsure how to respond to this writing. Her initial reaction is to ask the student to rewrite their poem, and to keep to topics that would not be considered too controversial.

Students are silenced, marginalized, dishonored, shamed, dehumanized, and encouraged to downplay or ignore their own truths, and to invent thoughts, feelings, and experiences, rather than write honestly and candidly about their own.

VIGNETTE #4

The orchestra director stands before his students and talks about the importance of music because it stimulates creativity, critical thinking, and gives musicians a special voice in the unique language of music.

Student: “But we don’t get to be creative with our music, or to critique anything you say, or even to give our opinion about anything. You tell us exactly what to do and when, and we do it, exactly as you say we’re supposed to. Or we get in trouble.”

Many students enjoy and benefit from participating in a music ensemble. The experience can be exhilarating and joyful. Yet students who are seeking a creative or artistic outlet often do not find it through participation in music ensembles, even as they may be promoted as such. Schools often claim to instill “critical thinking skills” in their students, while in fact insisting on compliance, following exact directions, and “keeping quiet about it.” Students are often discouraged for thinking critically about their school environment or asking questions that challenge the status quo and classroom circumstances that directly impact their lives (e.g., Fine, 1991; hooks, 2010; Kincheloe & McLaren, 2003; McLaren, 1986/1999; Morrell, 2002; Nieto, 2002).

Striving toward Social Justice in Music Education.

In my own experience, and in my discussions with other music teachers, I do see some striving toward social justice and equity in music education. Where it is practiced, it seems to center on several primary topics: Multiculturalism, LGBTQIA+, programming inspirational music, and implementing non-classical music courses and ensembles. From my observations, multiculturalism has meant seeking to include and perform music from more than the dominant white male Western European cultures, including music by women and Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC) composers, and for non-Christian religions, holidays, and celebrations. This is like J. Banks’ (2008/2014) “content integration” dimension of multicultural education, and is sometimes “superficial: the dances, the dress, the dialect, the dinners” (Au, 2014, p. 10), or the holidays and heroes approach (J. Banks, 1991; Nieto, 2002; Sleeter, 1991). LGBTQIA+ has meant striving for inclusion of students with all sexual orientations and gender identifications – making the music classroom a safe space. Programming inspirational music has meant primarily singing songs whose lyrics are moving or motivational and speak to social justice issues. Implementing non-classical music courses and ensembles has included the study and performance of more contemporary music, music more relevant to today’s students, or music that represents the histories and/or cultures of the students involved or potentially involved in school music, such as jazz (especially other than concert jazz, which continues to become more mainstreamed and “Westernized”), rock & roll, hip hop, mariachi, and other Latin American, African, Asian, and indigenous styles. Within these four topics there is a wide range of execution and effectiveness, ranging from non-existent, to existent but poorly executed (e.g., stereotypes, appropriation, tokenism, and tropes), to well executed and effective.

Gaps and Weaknesses toward Social Justice in Music Education.

The areas where social justice and equity, in my experience, are atypical and seem to need much more consideration include access and inclusion, honoring students’ home culture and language, student voice, student activism, putting student learning first, alternatives to competitiveness, reducing “strangling,” and professional ethics. The following definitions are of my own making, used by me as I honed my research questions.

Access means inviting in students who confront seeming insurmountable obstacles, such as financial, time, space, transportation, language, and structural (family, school, community).

Inclusion means inviting in students who “lack the talent” or “requisite skill” that is typically achieved by advanced students through years of private lessons. These are students of lower socioeconomic status, students with disabilities, students with behavior or attendance challenges, students with low academic achievement, etc. Using auditions and prerequisites as gatekeepers to elite music participation is a phenomenon I think of as “teaching the kids that already know how and can do.” It is akin to the prestigious universities and conservatories that only accept students who have already become superstars, and instead of teaching them, they arrange concert tours.

Honoring students’ home culture and language is much different than simply singing songs or learning about music from other random (“world”) cultures and in other languages (especially other Western European languages). It is learning about the home life of each student, understanding the cultural and language assets each student brings to the learning environment, celebrating their unique traditions in authentic ways, and not asking them to leave who they are at the classroom door.

Student voice means seeking opportunities for students to express what they really think, feel, and have experienced. Are students merely participants in an ensemble, parts in the symphony, places on the field, dots in the matrix, cogs in the wheel, obeying the commands and instructions of the teacher-director-conductor, who stands in front with absolute authority and control over each element of behavior, design, execution, and every other aspect of the creative process? (e.g., Shields, 2018). Can music education be “something students do, rather than something that is done to them”? (Cammarota & Fine, 2008, p. 10). Hess (2019) has suggested that “the multi-faceted nature of musicking offers an important medium for youth to further develop their sense of justice through, for example, a creative practice of songwriting engaged to identify and critique oppressions occurring in lived experiences” (p. 10).

Student activism means seeking opportunities for students to use music to engage in meaningful, real-world activism for causes important to them within their own school and community. Examples of situations that affect many students include poverty, school violence and bullying, trauma, abuse, police brutality, family member imprisonment, and forms of marginalization and disenfranchisement. Hess (2019) encouraged music teachers to use their “power to affirm youth’s activist sensibilities – to encourage youth to challenge injustice and help those students less aware of oppression to recognize and resist it” (p. 11).

Do we really put student learning first? The argument that “what is best for the ensemble is best for each student” prevails in many schools (personal communications over time with various music teachers, parents, students, and administrators). One might argue that if we don’t have a high-quality ensemble, then the best students lose out because they don’t get to experience high quality performances. Competing for first chair, trying to win the solo, auditioning for the top ensemble, striving to earn the favor of the teacher-director-conductor: these are examples of competitiveness. Competitiveness in a school music program may advantage some students and may contribute to certain positive elements of a program’s prestige and stature. Yet is there a cost in terms of harm to other students? Does competitiveness also contribute to certain negative elements such as reduced student participation and even exclusion? In many schools, a few very skilled students receive many opportunities, and most of the other students receive limited or no opportunities. Strangling refers to decisions made by some music program directors to make the music ensemble all-important, all-engrossing, all-time-consuming, and to insist that committed and involved students are not allowed to participate in any other activities.

Toward Equitable Access to Music Education.

Many youths, like myself, had the opportunity in childhood and young adult education to participate in music – especially in high school, where choir and musical theater were for me life-changing – life-saving – experiences. How many children and youth do not get these experiences, for reasons of exclusion, non-access, lack of money and required resources, non-existent music programs, and other inequities?

Despite stated goals and societal beliefs of education being the “great equalizer” (a cursory Internet search finds many recitations of this phrase and sentiment, including, for example, from Horace Mann in 1848, and up to the present day), income gaps persist and grow wider (Leonhardt, 2017; Shields, 2018), and music education in schools is not equitable (e.g., Bates, 2018). Significant imbalances can be found within schools, among schools, within districts and states, and across the nation. Some students have unparalleled options and opportunities, and other students have few or none. While some educators strive to “apply a variety of inclusive, equitable, and/or justice-oriented practices in some music education settings, research indicates that practices, systems, and structures in school music as a whole leave some students out in the cold” (Salvador, 2019, p. 59). How can we offer meaningful opportunities for all students?

Toward Inclusion in Music Education.

While there are efforts by many music teachers and in many music ensembles to include music from more diverse cultures and a wider group of composers (including, for example, women and BIPOC), these efforts are still not as widespread or thorough as they could (should) be, and, they often mask more significant indignities, microaggressions, and other complex problems involving actual classroom students, families, and local communities that get overlooked and go unaddressed (E. Palmer, 2018). For example, many music teachers and directors require students to practice at home on instruments, while some students do not have access to a conducive practice location at home. Students are often promoted to esteemed positions in music ensembles such as “first chair” as a result of their home practice and skill development, while other students are sometimes shamed in front of the class for their inability to play as well as others. Salvador (2019) has suggested that as educators, we should evaluate our own individual cultural and musical identities and positions in the world, in our classrooms, in our students’ lives, and identify our biases and assumptions and the way they impact our curriculum decisions, our teaching strategies, and how we treat our students.

Making Sense of Things and Being Real.

Terms such as social justice, critical pedagogies, and now even critical race theory often represent esoteric ideas confined to academia or sometimes become popular buzzwords, which are then trivialized as fads. In an opinion piece in the Washington Post on June 29, 2021, Kathleen Parker quipped, “Everybody’s talking about CRT – critical race theory – with varying degrees of eye-rolling ennui or outrage-fueled rants.” These concepts are sometimes thrown at educators by administrators and school boards without adequate understanding or well-thought-through goals and objectives (personal communication over time with several teacher colleagues). Many music educators have expressed to me that they have no idea what to do, but are being pressed to do something, or at least pretend to do something (personal communications over time in music teacher discussion groups on Facebook). How do practicing music teachers learn about and then incorporate (real, valuable – not superficial) social justice pedagogies into their music teaching and ensemble work?

It’s about Teachers

How do, or how can, teachers become the kind of teachers that provide the education that all students need? During my teacher preparation program, in classes that included lesson planning and design, we were typically taught to set a learning goal that included a “percentage learned” target. This might be expressed as, say, “By the end of this lesson, 85% of students will have achieved a passing grade.” I accepted this instruction and wrote something similar on each of my lesson-planning assignments, in order to meet requirements and please the professor. But it did not sit well with me then, and it does not now. What about the other 15%?

Reimagining Teachers as Co-creators of Knowledge. Cochran-Smith & Lytle (2009) wrote about the troubles teachers face in an education system that places high priority on “the economy,” metrics, standardization, accountability, and narrow definitions of achievement. Further, they highlight the extent to which recent education policy such as No Child Left Behind (NCLB) and Race to the Top (RTT) jeopardizes meaningful teaching and learning, for example, how “using marketplace, military, and business concepts of alignment and the reduction of variation as its code metaphors, NCLB has narrowed the meaning of teaching and is already having severe effects on teachers and student learning” (p. 82). Inquiry as stance (Cochran-Smith & Lytle, 2009) is a disruptive and potentially paradigm-shifting outlook in education, and a framework for reimagining teachers as co-creators of their craft, co-constructors of knowledge, and transformers of teaching practice and the teaching profession.

Can music teaching be thus reimagined? How will music teachers respond to the problems, inequities, and challenges discussed above if presented, contemplated, and discussed via a “practitioner inquiry community” as suggested by inquiry as stance (as opposed to, say, via a mandate from an administrator, school board, or state legislature)?

What are some potential attributes of a practitioner inquiry community? Following are some of the ideas I have engendered from the writings of Cochran-Smith & Lytle (e.g., 2009). Teachers are learners, and teachers, and researchers, and leaders (potentially self-directed and self-governed). Teachers learn from “experts and scholars,” from other teachers, from their own practice, from their own research, from their students, from their students’ parents, and from their community. Teachers teach their students, their students’ parents, other teachers, student teachers, their administrators, and their community. Teachers research their students (via informal and formal assessment, their personalities, their likes and dislikes, their backgrounds, home lives, languages, and cultures), and their practices (with varying degrees of formality), and reflect upon this research (a cyclic process). Teachers lead in their classrooms, their programs, and sometimes within their schools, districts, and communities. Teachers typically have less opportunity for participation in self-governance (more in democratic rather than authoritarian schools and districts), although some do. A teacher/practitioner inquiry community strives to place a greater emphasis and focus on research, reflection, discussion, rethinking, and action, within their scope and areas of practice.

Practitioner Research Limitations. Teacher practitioner research, like much action research, is generally local: our students, our classroom, our school, our community. Cochran-Smith & Lytle (2009) wrote that “the case study is the primary genre of practitioner research” (p. 29). They also wrote that “the considerable range and variation of practitioner research have contributed to its richness and vitality but, at the same time, perhaps undermined its coherence as an intellectual social movement with a palpable impact on emerging policies” (2009, p. 35). To what extent does (local) practitioner research consider impacting broader (district, state, national) policies? Along these lines, other concerns about practitioner research include lack of documentation, lack of shared writings/results, the difference between integrating research with professional development and generating local and public knowledge that informs others, and the need to “preach beyond the choir.”

Andragogy and Adult Learning Theory. Reflective practice and self-knowledge are fundamental competencies of effective educators (Bierema, 2008). Andragogy, a learning theory that focuses on adult learning as opposed to children and youth learning (pedagogy), emphasizes reflective practice, self-knowledge, transformative learning, whole person learning, self-directed learning, experiential learning, positionality, relationships (e.g., power), multiculturalism, and inclusivity (Wang, 2008). Adult learning theory embraces “instructional techniques integrating the educator, learner, learning process, and context” (Wang, 2009, p. 9), and thus feels important when thinking about and planning practitioner inquiry communities. In connection with my studies toward getting my Career Technical Education (CTE) (also called “adult education” and “designated subjects”) teaching credentials, andragogy was a topic of several courses, and is a part of what motivates my interest in these questions.

Networking, Learning, Researching, Transforming. The various professional groups I have participated in are in some ways research-oriented, for example, teachers are asking questions, interviewing other teachers, participating in focus group -like discussions, possibly comparing their work with the work of others, possibly trying out ideas they have heard from others and assessing the results, reflecting, and perhaps modifying or improving, etc. Yet, they may be more akin to networking communities and/or learning communities rather than research communities.

What is the difference between a community of inquiry and a networking community and/or a learning community? Perhaps there are elements related to goals: to learn, to network, to research? Yet the goal of research is to learn, and research, learning, and collaborating require networking. Perhaps there are elements related to methods: asking questions, observing others, listening to lectures, reading, discussing, meeting others, reflecting, taking action, and assessing results… Is there a difference between researching and learning, and if so, what is it? Can learning communities and inquiry communities be the same thing or do they need to be defined separately, distinctly, uniquely? Is practitioner research different than practitioner learning, and if so, how? One possibility I explored further in this study is the potential for transformation. Do teachers in a community of inquiry sometimes come to see differently (Riley, 2012) in ways that result in substantive changes in practice, and if so, how?

The Research Questions

Over time, I distilled, narrowed down, focused, and formulated the research questions and sub-questions that guide my study:

Question 1

How does an inquiry community of music teachers talk about themselves and others in relation to the formation and execution of social justice pedagogies?

What do music teachers say has enabled or supported them in implementing social justice pedagogies in their music classrooms?

What constraints do teachers identify to implementing social justice pedagogies in their music classrooms?

Question 2

What role does continuous learning play in the discourse of the teacher inquiry community?

How do these music teachers perceive themselves as continuously learning (more) about these topics and ways to pursue and implement them?

Question 3

How does this teacher inquiry community function as a site of transformative learning?

How do teachers describe their participation in inquiry cycles vis-à-vis reflection and/or changes in practice?

Theoretical and Conceptual Frameworks

My experiences both as a teacher and as a student (including my lifelong participation in schooling and in my post-baccalaureate studies) has led me to seek to interrogate how teachers answer what might be called the “real questions” (Riley, 2012) from their classrooms. Real questions, as I came to define them, are those that are likely to reveal or exacerbate social justice issues and themes. They are the ones that take us by surprise, that are not supposed to be asked, that challenge administrative authority, and that raise issues not to be discussed in school. They may inspire fear and uncertainty, they may be more lose-lose than win-win, and they may compel us to contend with or despair about institutional inequities. Sometimes they well up deep emotions and/or impel us to acknowledge or uncover difficult truths. They are questions whose discussion might provoke unrest, or whose honest answers might get us in trouble, or cause pain, or break rules, or exceed the limits of our abilities to handle appropriately.

As a victim of abuse, and one who has taken a stance against the abuse, neglect, and marginalization of children and youth in my own teaching practice, both in my private music studio as well as in public and private school music classrooms, these questions have been important to me. I have answered (or avoided) them in my own ways. And in striving to implement solutions based on my answers, I have been quite successful in some cases, and not so successful in others. There have been times when I succeeded with students, but simultaneously failed with parents. There have been times when I succeeded with administrators, but in doing so failed my students.

Through my strivings as both teacher and student, I have discussed many topics with other teachers, students, parents, administrators, scholars, and lay people. When it comes to real questions of social justice, equity, culturally responsive teaching, critical pedagogies, power dynamics, and inclusiveness versus exclusiveness, as well as the racism, sexism, classism, ableism, homophobia, transphobia, and xenophobia we contend with, work at, and too often wrongfully sweep under the rug today, my personal experience is that teachers, like me, struggle to find answers. But teachers do answer – even if this means by avoiding them. Tabling the discussion, maintaining the status quo, not doing anything different – these are all answers. As Freire patently stated, “all education is political” (1970/2018).

I imagine some teachers answer the real questions brilliantly, creating new environments and opportunities for learners that provide enormous value and benefit to the children and youth in their care. Some likely experiment through trial and error. Some implement strategies assigned to them by higher-ups or a committee consensus. Some work quietly, perhaps subversively, under the radar. Some avoid, or postpone, or pretend. Some have their backs against the wall. Some fail miserably. Some get fired. Some quit.

My theoretical framework arises from and is informed by the intersection of four lines of thought: (a) critical feminist theory (e.g., S. Evans, 1979; Luke & Gore, 1992/2014; hooks, 1981, 1984; Lorde, 2018; McCann & Kim, 2003; Sandoval, 2000; Stanley, 2018), (b) emancipatory education (Freire, 1970/2018), (c) inquiry as stance (Cochran-Smith & Lytle, 2009), and (d) theory of change (e.g., Chen, 1990). This intersection forms the foundation for my work, and, in part borrowing from Riley (2012), I name it, teacher inquiry as transformative learning.

Critical Feminist Theory

In their 2009 article, The ‘f’ word has everything to do with it, Frisby et al. provide a brief history of feminist theories and practices, and how they have come to play important roles in (action) research today. Early feminists of prior centuries fought for rights: the right to vote, to own and inherit property, to get an education, to make reproductive choices, to receive equal compensation, and more (e.g., S. Evans, 1979). Feminist theories and practices have evolved, expanded, and striven to critique and address the obscuration of women, their experiences, and their oppression, in contrast to the “normality” of men, their experiences, and their power. Today, critical feminist theories and practices embody all this and still more, being applied to a wider range of oppressive situations and obscured or marginalized circumstances, persons, and groups. Feminist theories examine discourses around equal treatment, self-determination, subordination, victim-blaming, individual responsibility, and intersectionality (e.g., Gopaldas, 2013; hooks, 1981, 1984). They dispute simple binaries and unmask hegemony. They prompt people to ask new questions, to better understand and then challenge power dynamics, to recover oppressed voices, and even to transform lives – for example, through action research (Frisby et al., 2009).

I acknowledge my positionality and privilege as a white male in the United States, and I feel humble in the presence of both the enormous pain (anger), and the outstanding scholarship of oppressed women over the decades and centuries. “I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own. And I am not free as long as one person of color remains chained. Nor is any one of you” (Lorde, 2018, p. 34). In my dissertation, I strive to apply critical feminist theory and scholarship to teachers, so many of whom today are and feel they are undervalued, exploited, and working within oppressive systems, and to students, so many of whom are denied access, silenced, and excluded.

Emancipatory Education

Emancipatory education is rooted in a foundation of critical consciousness (Freire, 1970/2018). Freirean pedagogies, in their striving to liberate the oppressed, ask how oppressed people can “participate in developing the pedagogy of their own liberation…. The pedagogy of the oppressed is an instrument for their critical discovery that both they and their oppressors are manifestations of dehumanization” (Freire, 1970/2018, p. 48).

Applying this framework not only to students but also to the problem of overwhelmed, un-confident, undervalued, de-skilled (for example, given out-of-the-box, “teacher proof,” scripted curriculum) (e.g., Wrenn, 2021), and de-professionalized teachers, suggests that teachers, who feel or come to understand their oppression, must be part of the solution. In this framing, these teachers comprise a marginalized group: subjugated, exploited, and demoralized by a powerful external hierarchy of legislatures, policymakers, corporate interests, and administrators, that dominates, demands, and dictates. Freire (1970/2018) instructed those waging the struggle for their liberation to “perceive the reality of oppression not as a closed world from which there is no exit, but as a limiting situation which they can transform” (p. 49). This guidance and advocacy are supported further for teachers through the framework of inquiry as stance.

Inquiry as Stance

Cochran-Smith and Lytle (2009) in Inquiry as Stance: Practitioner Research for the Next Generation, invite teachers to rethink, reinvent, and reconsider the professionalism, and the professionalization, of teaching practice. Are teachers merely trained staff appointed to deliver a prescribed package of knowledge in a scripted manner to students who are perceived as empty vessels waiting to be filled, ala Freire’s frowned-upon “banking method” of education? Or can teachers become autonomous, purposeful, deliberative, adaptive (Heifetz et al., 2009), collaborative, and trusted members of a duly respected profession responsible for educating students according to their needs and purposes?

The inquiry as stance (Cochran-Smith & Lytle, 2009) theoretical framework proposes a reconceptualization of the critical role of teachers not only as disseminators of knowledge, but also as generators of knowledge. Teacher research has provided transformative potential: teachers, like students, are not mere recipients of academic (i.e., university), legislative, policymaker, corporate, and administrative research findings or knowledge, but are (or can/should be) producers of those findings and that knowledge – not as subjects, in the traditional sense, but as researchers and authors (Cochran-Smith & Lytle, 2009). In this way, teachers might become, as Freire advocates, active participants in their own liberation.

Theory of Change

Theory of change grew out of the work of scholars including Huey-Tsyh Chen, Peter Rossi, Carol Weiss, Peter Drucker, and others who specialized in areas related to program theory, evaluation, and organizational leadership, and investigated complex topics ranging from community initiatives and education to business. Theory of change places an emphasis on stakeholders and outcomes (Chen, 1990), which compliments my own emphasis on students and teachers (stakeholders) and their inclusion, emancipation, and liberation (outcomes).

The Intersection:

Teacher Inquiry as Transformative Learning

Mezirow (1997) defined transformative learning as “the process of effecting change in a frame of reference” (p. 5) or (Mezirow & Associates, 1990) “the process of making a new or revised interpretation of the meaning of an experience, which guides subsequent understanding, appreciation, and action” (p. 1). Riley (2012) augmented this definition with her concept of knowledge generation as “coming to see differently [and] shifts of vision” (p. 16). I liken transformative learning, as occurring on an individual or personal level, to what Kuhn (1962/2012) described as and has been popularly called a paradigm shift, at the level of scientific thought.

Inquiry begins with thinking critically about a topic, and with questioning. One inquires because one wants to know, to understand, and potentially to challenge. Research begins with a research question (e.g., Booth & Williams, 2008; Glesne & Peshkin, 1992; Kamler & Thomson, 2006; Osanloo & Grant, 2016). My research into teacher inquiry as transformative learning sought to examine more than the accumulation of knowledge (whether or how one learns more), or the development of skills (whether or how one gets better at doing something). My research sought to explore transformation – whether or how one’s practice changes for the better due to a significant shift in perspective.

De Saxe (2012) suggested a methodology for transformative education in the intersection of critical feminist theory and emancipatory education based largely on Sandoval’s (2000) framework of oppositional resistance described in her methodology of the oppressed. Oppositional resistance includes, among other things, telling stories and speaking truths, which are part of the essence of critical feminist theory. Testimonio (Partnoy, 2003) empowers. Partnoy (2003) sought to reposition women as “no longer tortured bodies to be pitied or patronized; [but rather becoming] the central force in a process that makes a difference in their own personal lives and also helps further their political agenda” (p. 176). I suggest that this framework helps situate the plight of many teachers who are, have been, or are becoming more and more de-professionalized, de-skilled, and devalued.

A critical feminist approach (resisting, speaking out, empowering) combined with emancipatory pedagogies (participating in one’s own liberation), inquiry as stance (reinventing professionalism, generating knowledge, becoming the author), and theory of change (action toward outcomes) is the theoretical framework which has both guided and cultivated this study

Methodology

This study builds on four methodological traditions: Community-based participatory action research (CBPAR), phenomenology, autoethnography, and theory of change.

Community-based Participatory Action Research

First and foremost, this study is a collaborative research project in which several music teachers and I inquired together on topics related to social justice, music education, and education in general, with the goal of generating knowledge and experience that might transform our teaching practice. This research arrangement is characteristic of CBPAR in that it involves “forming research partnerships with nonacademic stakeholders to develop and execute a research project based on a particular community-identified problem or issue” (Leavy, 2017, p. 250). While my project provided a general scope, outline, and high-level goal, my participants – partners – throughout the course of our time together, identified specific problems or issues within their own practice that we collaboratively addressed as part of the study.

Phenomenology

Looking through the eyes of phenomenology, my research questions have been posed to discover and learn about the essence of the experiences of the teachers involved in the community of inquiry for the duration of the project. The phenomena under study, in this case, are the transformative learning that potentially occurred, the reaction to that learning (or perhaps lack thereof), and any action contemplated or taken as a result of that learning, of each individual teacher participating in the collaborative research project. An essential element of my purpose has been to “obtain a view into [my] research participants’ life-worlds and to understand their personal meanings constructed from their lived experiences” (Johnson & Christensen, 2014, p. 444).

Autoethnography

Certain features of autoethnography inspired and informed my project because I, too, am a teacher and research participant, as well as researcher, and I, too, am interested in, and have documented, my own personal meanings constructed from my own lived experiences. During this CBPAR project, I, myself, have changed my own practice in positive and transformational ways as a result of my participation in the study and as an active member of the inquiry community. Custer (2014) described autoethnography as a transformative research method because “it changes time, requires vulnerability, fosters empathy, embodies creativity and innovation, eliminates boundaries, honors subjectivity, and provides therapeutic benefits” (p. 11). In this spirit I have made myself vulnerable at times in my writing in order to situate myself, narrate my story, share my experiences, and express my ideas.

One of the recommended methods of adult learning or andragogy is narrative learning (Bierema, 2008; Lyle, 2013). Lyle (2013) described narrative processes, when informed by a critical agenda, as “uniquely able to help teachers and learners revisit schooling experiences with the aim of shedding light on their educational experiences” (p. 22). Raab (2013) suggested that autoethnography may foster self-awareness and self-discovery – components that lend themselves well to transformation. And an autoethnographic perspective has added a layer of depth and richness (Sell-Smith & Lax, 2013) to my study, for example via the “running commentary” dramatic device used in my screenplay which comprises chapter 6 of this dissertation.

Theory of Change

Theory of change must be understood as both a theoretical and practical framework, a theory and a methodology. The theoretical aspects of theory of change have been discussed above. The methodological aspects involve process and evolve out of the theory’s emphasis on stakeholders and outcomes (Chen, 1990). Building from the elements of both CBPAR and theory of change, my aim has been, as Frisby et al. (2009) recommended, to “bring together theory, method, and practice as people work collaboratively towards practical outcomes and new forms of understanding” (p. 14).

Study Design and Participants

To establish my teacher inquiry community, I sent invitations via email, social media, and my network of friends, colleagues, associates, and teachers (professors), seeking participants who are music teachers and directors of music ensembles at the elementary, middle, or high school level in the United States. Teacher participants were made aware that I would author my doctoral dissertation based on this research project. The teachers involved in what became our inquiry community began to discuss, contemplate, and grapple with readings and topics related to social justice and music education, and all of education, and to “theorize practice from the location of the classroom and generate rich sets of frameworks, questions, and insights that [might] empower them to improve practice” (Riley, 2012). The story of the preparatory process, which began in the fall of 2021, is told in chapter 4.