April Cali Column-“Everything I learned about hip-hop I learned from my students ” By Dr. Marissa Silverman

            Many times I am asked the important question, “What music should I teach future students?” But perhaps an equally important question is: “What musics will students teach me?”

Working at Long Island City High School (LICHS), in Queens, NY, with a classical music background, I was, quite sadly, under-equipped to teach multiple musics.  Sure, I could fake it, but doing so would do a disservice to the students I taught; it would also disrespect the music I hoped to explore. Why? Because musics are sites of relationships and engagements. And when we try to welcome others into those musical relationships and engagements, it’s important we, ourselves, have had authentic and meaningful experiences with those musics.

Imagine trying to introduce someone you don’t really know to another person. Sure, that person can be described by way of appearance, some obvious traits, and other characteristics. But, is this all there is to a person? Or, is there more? Of course there’s more. MUCH more! Same with all music. Just like I can better introduce one person to another if known personally, I need to know a music—from the inside out—if I want to help students form relationships and engagements with those worlds.

So, what do teachers do when, like myself at LICHS, we aren’t ready to authentically welcome our students into multiple musical worlds? One possibility is we flip the classroom so students become the experts in the room.

A good rule to live by is: Ask for help when you need it; sometimes, you’ll be lucky enough to get it. So, very humbly and honestly, I approached my LICHS students about my lack of knowledge when it came to all things related to rap and hip-hop. I said to them, “You know, I wish I knew more about rap and hip-hop. But I don’t. You think you can help me?” After asking, and at first, the students didn’t believe I honestly wanted them to teach me. But, I did! They knew something I didn’t. Why not go to them as the experts in the room? When they realized I was sincere, they began to teach. And I—and other students in the room who were, like me, under-equipped in all things rap and hip-hop—learned.

Indeed, many of them talked about rappers and hip-hop artists at lunch, in the hallways, in the stairwells, and outside the school. They emulated their favorite rappers by re-creating performances; they studied the ways rappers created their verse; they appreciated the way hip-hop artists sampled material from other musical genres; they “borrowed” their favorite beats and remixed them in creative ways. In other words, they analyzed, systematized, categorized, and re-energized rap and hip-hop in the same sorts of ways I would the music I love. So, yes, they were the specialists in the room when it came to such music and they had so much to give.

One of the most powerful things a teacher can do is seek out help from students. Doing so shows students a few things. First, it shows students that they are equipped in areas that their music teacher is not. Second, it shows students that their music teacher trusts them enough to be vulnerable; that teachers are people, too, who do not have all the answers all the time. Third, it shows students that things that matter to them matter to their music teacher because teacher-student relationships are relationships. And relationships, by their very nature, need to express and receive understanding and care. Imagine having a parent or friend who never wants to talk about or understand something that matters to you. What would that do to the relationship?

Like relationships between parents and children, the student-teacher relationship maintains differentiated power roles. That’s a natural consequence of this kind of relationship. But, flipping the classroom shifts the power. Students become the experts in the room, both by way of peer teaching—because not everyone in the classroom knows and values the same things—and also by teaching the teacher something of value.

So what am I now able to do, all thanks to my students? I can have informed conversations about differences between, say, Jay-Z and Kanye West; I can appreciate Eminem and—in the privacy of my own home or car—rap along-side him if I so chose; I can write my own verse and, at least in my own head, I can rap; I can hear how sampling in hip-hop can make or break a track; I can feel the profundity of a bass line in ways I couldn’t before; and I have my favorites, too—for reasons too numerous to mention here—such as A Tribe Called Quest, N*E*R*D, and Missy Elliott. I also can appreciate a way of being that I couldn’t before, a particular way of being that attempts to de-chain social, political, economic, and psychological constraints. Does this mean I find myself comfortable with all rap and hip-hop? No, that would be silly. Just like I’m not comfortable with some misogynistic operas, or overly affected art song, or virtuosic concerti that are devoid of content aside from champagne-like affect, I have my bones to pick with lots of rap and hip-hop. However, the point is now I can come at those issues with thoughtfulness, intelligence, and truthfulness, all thanks to my students.

Before being taught by my students, I learned about rap and hip-hop in books and, yes, I listened to some, all the while not really “getting it.” But, when I experienced rap and hip-hop through the eyes of my students—through empathy—I felt its values and importance. And when they taught me how to think and “be like” a rapper and hip-hop artist, I could learn through this music in ways that pure academic treatments of it couldn’t compare.

What students value outside school should be valued inside school. Within reason, of course. This doesn’t necessarily mean a music teacher should spend each and every day exploring rap and hip-hop in the classroom. Nor should she teach solely R&B, or the soundtrack to Frozen, or whatever students value outside of school. Of course not. The point is that we need to help all students find themselves through multiple musics, in as meaningful a way as possible. If and when we aren’t ready to do so, perhaps our students are ready. Why not give them the space to teach?

And, so, I continue to learn through rap and hip-hop from students, both past and present (named, here, with permission). Here’s two examples. Enjoy!

Will Ebbels has taught me more than I could have hoped for! He suggested I comb through The Rap Yearbook by Shea Serrano. Little by little, I have been making my way through this book as a listener. It’s been an amazing ride. He also shared with me the styles of numerous rappers and hip-hop artists, including Anderson .Paak:

Click HERE!

Jessica Finkelstein also introduced me to artists too many to name here. And I am the better for it. Thanks to her, I can feel through Chance the Rapper, as well as Jessica’s latest recommendation, Noname

Click HERE!

Do you have any professors you would like to hear from? Send us an email and let us know!

January Cali Column – “When Students Want To Learn” – Dr. Lisa DeLorenzo This is an abbreviated chapter from my book, Sketches in Democracy: Notes from an Urban Classroom, published 2012.What do urban students really want from school?  Despite what the public may have us believe, urban students do want to learn.  Look past the slumped figure, arms crossed at the chest, hood pulled down the forehead, “go ahead, just-try-to-teach-me face” and see instead, an active, creative mind.  Peel through the layers of defensiveness and studied boredom to find a cache of curiosity and wonderment.  There is something that makes every teen tick, something that gives way to profound interest, and something that generates excitement about learning.At the urban school where I taught, that magic bullet came in the form of an electronic keyboard.  Just after the holiday break, fifteen music keyboards were delivered to the school, thanks to the generosity of our partnering university. A new calendar year had unfolded bringing with it opportunities to start over again.  The keyboards couldn’t have arrived at a better time. Students were fresh and alive from a long week’s break and nothing spells excitement like the chance to explore an instrument.  Not just any instrument, but one that teens associated with popular music on the radio and music videos.

Journal Entry (January 8):  Today was our first day with the keyboards.  When each student put on his/her pair of earphones the excitement was palpable. Although the room was silent except for the tapping of keys, the students were completely absorbed in their “play” (The task:  Find out what this instrument can do).  It was impressive. Shakura was dancing in her seat to a demo tape with a huge smile across her face.  Marissa kept yelling, “Guys, listen to this,” (with her earphones on she had no idea about the volume of her voice).

Of course some of the students immediately found “porno” sounds or at least that is what they imagined them to be.  The “DJ” button was another major hit and many of the students spent their time playing rap-like percussion music.  Their delight in the different sound effects was infectious and I found myself running from station to station, laughing out loud at their discoveries.

The smallest successes, like figuring out “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” or discovering a new sound effect on the keyboard, created a sense of exhilaration that was simply contagious.   After the initial class, we began to create sound paintings through various colors and sound effects programmed into the computer.  Eventually students wanted to read music.  They wanted to play the music they loved such as the theme song from the movie, Titanic.   One student was particularly drawn to the music, Für Elise (Beethoven), and began to slowly and deliberately to figure out the melody by ear.  When others heard the music, they were enchanted.

From a democratic standpoint, preparing students to think intelligently and independently within a social context contributes to meaningful decisions that affect our society.  If we agree that these are the kinds of citizens that forward the common good, then schooling must teach both for content and for the dispositions that drive stewardship.

The “need to know” is an impulse that emanates from the student. The artist teacher taps into that initial impulse and flies with it.  Teachers begin to uncover latent curiosity by asking questions that provoke critical thinking and posing problems that do not always have clear solutions.  The more students become engaged in learning, the greater their tolerance for complex problem solving.  Along with this comes an increase in persistence, tenacity, and confidence in one’s ability to work through difficult problems.

We have to believe that great possibilities exist in each student.  Without such conviction, teachers continue to follow their familiar mechanized routines in planning and teaching the lesson.  Teachers who delight in their content and novel ways of engaging students, however, not only inspire reticent students but also keep that spark glowing.  It is this inner glow that reminds teachers why they went into teaching in the first place.

November Cali Column – “What I Learned As A Teacher of Urban Students: Part 1” By Dr. Lisa DeLorenzo
The following entry is a selected sample taken from my book, Sketches in Democracy: Notes From An Urban Classroom, published by Rowman and Littlefield in 2012.  The second part of this story will appear in the December blog.What I Learned As A Teacher of Urban Students:  Part 1Dr. Lisa C. DeLorenzo  (November 7, 2016)Teachers step into urban teaching for all kinds of reasons.  Some cannot find jobs in suburbia.  Others have a need to “save” those poor kids from the ghetto.  And, some teachers, committed to social justice, see education as a means of providing children with the tools they need to find hope in an often-ungracious world.  These are the teachers whose wisdom extends far beyond the teaching of content to a deep understanding of the human condition and the important role that their students play in the process.To become a teacher of urban students is a privilege that may allude many in our profession.  Urban teaching has unquestionably received bad press:  shootings, classrooms out of control, teacher safety etc.  Except for extreme examples, such as Columbine, suburban schools seem to have much more balanced representation in the news.  Nevertheless, American psyche embraces the notion that bad things happen in urban schools.Having taught music teacher education students for many years, I realized that my own experience as a rural and suburban music teacher was incomplete.  For that reason, I took a sabbatical year to teach in an urban school in a nearby city.  It was the most difficult teaching I had ever done, yet what I learned from these students at William Grant High School (pseudonym) proved unlike anything I had experienced in my then 20 years of teaching.

Prior to the opening day, the teachers met to talk about how to best create a school based on democratic principles where, for instance, students shared in setting rules for behavior, teachers taught lessons that involved students in problem solving, and discussion was a key factor in reflecting on ideas and giving students a legitimate voice in the process.   We overlooked the fact that democracy is a process that evolves over time and this became evident when the school opened its doors on the first day.

I was nervous but enthusiastic about the first day of school. My enthusiasm, however, dimmed quickly.  Whereas I envisioned teaching exciting ideas while also demonstrating democratic teaching practice, the students were more interested in socializing, talking with others during the lesson, and creating a chaotic climate in the classroom.  Lunch was a circus.  The first day had been set aside for a celebratory “picnic” style meal with the whole group eating together instead of walking to the cafeteria at the neighboring school.  With no large meeting area to congregate, the students set up some classroom tables in the central area of the building.

Because the space was not large enough, they crammed into all of the space available, often unable to pick up a drink without hitting another student.  Lunch consisted of a dry turkey sandwich and a choice of milk or juice (still frozen).  A number of students opted not to eat. By the end of lunch, student behavior had eroded into loud talking, running to the bathroom and unsanctioned visitations with friends in other classrooms.

Music class, unfortunately, was scheduled after lunch.  Given the events of the day, I could already see that my carefully planned lesson was not going to work.   As other teachers had discovered that morning, I faced a situation that had no viable solution other than to salvage what I could from my now-not-appropriate lesson plan.  Predictably, the students were bored and uninspired.  At one point I asked students how their first day had gone so far. Their immediate response was “dull, boring, and frustrating.”  Their complaints were embarrassingly legitimate.  It was hard to imagine any of the students wanting to come back the next day.

First days of school are particularly fragile times for a beginning teacher:  How will I introduce myself to my students?  Will they like me?  Should I develop the rules or should my students help me?  Will they like me?  Can I establish myself as the teacher in charge or will I come off as a bully?  How can I make the first day fun while still setting a tone for serious work?  Will they like me?  Gloria Ladson-Billings remarks, “despite all of their youthful and idealistic enthusiasm, most new teachers are frightened and overwhelmed by the demand of teaching.”

What teachers can learn from days where nothing seems to go right is that another day is always coming.  Rarely can a teacher, if acting in the best interests of the students, create an irrevocable situation. Perhaps the very best thing we can do for our pre-service students, aside from emphasizing flexible thinking, is to convey the fact that many events in teaching are caused by things beyond the individual teacher’s control.  As William Ayers explains, “Teachers often work in difficult situations under impossible conditions. For the most part, your students are pretty forgiving—hopefully the teacher can forgive him/herself when things don’t go as planned.”

At MSU, we talk a lot about democratic practice because as teachers in the public sector, we have a greater purpose in teaching, not only developing intellect, but also advancing students’ sensitivity to issues of social justice. One might gather from this blog entry, that urban schools need ironclad rules and lock-step instruction – the very antithesis of democracy.  However, it is the children who are marginalized in society that need democracy the most.  For the pre-service teachers who ardently believe that urban students have less to offer than suburban students, it is critical that their training address such ideas head on.  Students depend upon teachers to create a supportive community that engages them in essential questions about our world.  This is the kind of school that we hoped to build and would make progress, however slowly, toward this goal.

Do you have any professors you would like to hear from? Send us an email and let us know!


October Cali Column – “3 Awful Things That Happen When Children are Denied Daily Arts Instruction in Schools” By Anthony Mazzocchi

Happy Fall, NAfME! For this month’s Cali Column, we have a recent blog post by Anthony Mazzocchi from his blog, The Music Parent’s Guide: A Survival Kit for the New Music Parent

If you would like to read more of Tony’s work, click HERE!


3 Awful Things That Happen When Children are Denied Daily Arts Instruction in Schools

Kinhaven 2014-316Regardless of the social and economic circumstances of our time, the arts have an essential place in the balanced education of our children.

In all the education discussion I hear and the literature I read, the arts are consistently given little to no attention.  At the same time, a large portion of our population is tired of having to plead to make the case for arts in schools.  We all want an education system that delivers a broad-based curriculum that takes into account the continuing and varied needs of our children — not a system obsessed with academic learning alone.

While many in our world still think that the arts are for a chosen few and that “artists” are simply “born that way”, I believe that our narrowed thinking of creativity is more due to a lack of contact time of creative subjects in schools.  To get people to think about the issue of arts in a child’s school life, I start with a basic question:  What would happen if any subject was delivered only once a week in school?  And doesn’t that mean that there aren’t more creative people in our world simply because we do not cultivate that creativity in school on a daily basis?

Here are three awful truths about the adverse effects from a lack of arts in schools has on our children:

A vicious cycle of killing creativity continues.  How would our children develop — and therefore be perceived — if they had math, english, or science only one day a week for a half hour?  Would they be seen as “dumb” by the time they were in middle school?  The answer is, of course, yes — and that is exactly what happens in regards to creativity.  Creativity is, in fact, taught out of us in school due to little or no contact time, so by the time children are teenagers, they often think of themselves as “not creative”.  I’m not necessarily talking about children becoming artists, dancers, or musicians; I am talking about empowering a generation to be non-conforming, imaginative people.

The inequality with arts instruction exists simply because of the school schedule.  Blame it on time or blame it on money, the truth is clear:  when you deliver one day of arts instruction in schools, you are leaving it to the family (or lack thereof) to continue to support the child’s instruction at home.  We all know this leads to severely uneven results, and most kids will become frustrated and quit.  This attrition is not due to the myth that only a few children are artistic, rather that there’s a shortage of time spent in the arts during the school day.  If arts instruction is delivered five days a week, we would not only see more children realize their true passions, we would see a new generation of great, creative, and innovative thinkers emerge from the public school system.

The Achievement Gap widens.  When students come from families with financial means, they have the ability to overcome unbalanced school curricula by spending money on tutoring, lessons, summer opportunities, etc.  It’s generations of financially disadvantaged youth — mostly students of color — who will never reach their potential as creators and innovators and who will never realize their passion due to a narrowed curriculum in schools.

A lack of the arts also has a profound effect on multi-cultural schools.  The arts provide a profound vehicle for schools to take into account their own cultural settings and embrace them by developing “arts festivals” and other innovative cultural exchanges.  Children participating in and learning through the arts, especially in approaching cultural studies across the curriculum, is more powerful than any textbook can muster.

Another generation grows up believing people are born creative.  All the brain research in the world will not convince someone who has grown up without rich arts instruction that they really are talented and have simply missed the boat for reasons beyond their control.  This “lost” generation will find it increasingly difficult to navigate the ever-changing workforce; they will become teachers and school leaders who aren’t creative and who don’t value arts in their schools; and they will have children who they believe are not artistic simply because of genetics — a perpetuation of a damaging falsehood that we must bring to a halt.

Does this all sound too dramatic?  It’s not.  If we stop a moment to reflect on our school curricula, we actually will see that our loss of creativity in schools has been slow and subtle — a cut here and a cut there, and here we are: barely hanging on to the arts in our child’s school day.

In order for our children to meet the profound challenges and changes in our world, our schools must embrace the power, values, and processes of teaching and learning that the arts provide in our education system.  To value the arts in school curricula is to say loud and clear that the practice and appreciation of the arts will benefit our children — and therefore our society — in ways that are immeasurable by our current standards, yet more powerful than anything we have collectively experienced before.

For more information and blog posts, check out Tony’s blog HERE!

Do you have any professors you would like to hear from? Send us an email and let us know!


September Cali Column – “3 Values of Music Education” By Dr. Marissa Silverman

Welcome to the first installment of our new series of blog posts, the Cali Column! Each month, we will feature a different Cali professor’s writing about an important issue in music education! This month, we have Dr. Silverman’s “3 Values of Music Education.” Enjoy!

3 values of music education by Marissa Silverman

The other day, a colleague said: “Music isn’t fun. It’s hard work, dedication, and challenging. Fun is riding a rollercoaster. Music is a rewarding achievement.” This caused me to think about the “whys” (or values) of music education.

Just as there are hundreds upon hundreds of musics around the world, there are as many “whys” of musics. And because music education depends, partly, on the natures and values of musics, it stands to reason that there are hundreds upon hundreds of values of music education.

I will not pretend to know each and every value. Nor will I pretend to have experienced them all. Still, part of the joy of music education is experiencing known and unknown values.  Even better: to experience values never deemed possible.

Here are 3 values. They aren’t the best nor the most comprehensive. Still, they’re part of why I engage in music education.

  1. Musical understanding. A key value of music education is musical understanding. What does this mean? Briefly, musical understanding is experiencing and expressing oneself through music. This understanding depends upon many factors—too numerous to mention here. When I experience and express myself through music—when I compose a pop song, perform in a large ensemble, or dance Gahu—I gain a sense of self-knowledge (and self-other knowledge), self-growth (and self-other growth), and self-esteem I couldn’t gain otherwise. Why? When musical challenges meet (or slightly enhance) my abilities, I experience flow (also known as optimal experience). “Flow” describes a kind of experience that’s so engaging that it’s worth doing for the doing itself. The arts and sports are typical sources of flow. What sets musics apart from all other sources of flow and self-other understandings is the unique materials and requirements of musics, namely sonic-musical events created and shared by and for others at specific times and places.
  1. Community. Related to self-other understanding, a key value of music education is community. Music making connects me to those I engage with musically. There are a number of reasons for this. First, music making can be emotionally engaging/arousing. When I’m emotionally engaged, I’m likely to connect with those who are part of this emotional engagement. Also, I become in-sync with others. And being in-sync connects me to others I wouldn’t otherwise be connected with/to. Relationships form because of musical experiences, and a community is born. With that comes trust, care, commitment, fellowship, well-being, and so on. The value of community yields exponential dividends. However, this isn’t the only kind of community that music education yields. By engaging with musics written by and for others—for example, Mahler’s 1st Symphony, the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s “Snow (Hey, Oh),” “Siyahamba,” or Ellington’s Black, Brown, and Beige—I can connect to people, places, and times far removed from my own here and now. That kind of time/space travel and communality is greatly rewarding.
  1. Happiness. A key value of music education is happiness, or, stated differently, Aristotle’s notion of “human flourishing.” While some people may think that happiness is a “soft” value like “fun,” it’s not. Happiness is the pursuit of a life well lived. Living well isn’t simplistic or easily achieved. When engaged in the teaching-and-learning of music, I’m contributing to my life’s happiness. What more can be said about music education and happiness? I’ll happily get into that in another blog post.

So, what values have you experienced through music education?

Do you have any professors you would like to hear from? Send us an email and let us know!