Philosophy in the Music Classroom: The Interplay of Notes and Ideas
Justin Lader is Assistant Professor and Director of Music Education at Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma, Washington. Aside from advocating for philosophy in music education, he researches how musicians form motor memories.
Seven years ago, I began experimenting with philosophy for young people in the music classroom. Over these years, I have worked to incorporate principles of philosophical dialogue in all of my music courses including 4th-8th grade Waldorf education, K-12 community music schools, private music lessons, undergraduate courses, and pre-service educator training.
I had never considered just how powerful philosophical dialogue could be for the development of children until I experienced it before my own eyes. One day, my long-time mentor, Paul Bodin, asked me to watch a discussion that took place in a fourth-grade classroom. Paul was deeply invested in bringing philosophical inquiry into the community of Eugene, Oregon. Beyond leading his own discussions at the local public library, Paul trained and educated teachers at the University of Oregon to lead philosophy for young people programs in public schools.
I was initially shocked to observe how gracefully and respectfully the fourth graders discussed topics that would likely be stunted or result in anger and frustration with adults—such as topics of equality and human rights. From my lens as a performer and music educator, philosophical dialogue resembled the delicate interplay of how chamber musicians create and navigate performance. I had a visceral reaction that there would be immense benefit for music students to engage in more dialogue, as well explore the role they play as musicians in our culture. This musical connection is what has led me on a consequent journey to involve philosophical dialogue in music instruction ever since.
My journey forward has been a serendipitous mixture of formal and informal education on the history and practice of philosophy for young people, as well as ongoing experimental practice with my own students. Aside from observing Paul Bodin’s work firsthand, the second most influential step in my path was reading Jana Mohr Lone’s (2021) book “Seen and Not Heard: Why Children’s Voices Matter”. The way Mohr Lone described children as being a marginalized group when it comes to their contribution of knowledge in society, and therefore the value that could come from epistemic justice for them, resonated with my experience as a music educator. In graduate coursework I had learned about Piaget’s stages of child development, and it seemed reasonable to think of the psychological limitations children may have.
Conversely, as a music educator I was very much influenced by Dr. Shinichi Suzuki’s philosophy, which focused on early childhood development and a foremost pursuit as an educator to create a thriving community of global citizens. For Suzuki, music was both a vehicle and a manifestation of more inclusive and divergent learning. The concise and direct way Mohr Lone describes epistemic justice proved to be an “aha” moment for me, articulating what I think is likely a shared vision of many music educators, especially those influenced by Suzuki.
Within the domain of music, we have our own theoretical critics who question a lack of democratic teaching practices in the traditional bands, choirs, and orchestras omnipresent in public education. Other music education reformers question the essential role musicians play as an artist or perhaps specifically as a performer. If music is an art form but not all musicians compose or improvise, are they really artists? While these ideas point to many difficult questions, the good news is that philosophy for young people, as well as creating communities of philosophical inquiry, offers a means to safely explore answers and at the same time extend agency to everyone in the process.
While completing my PhD at The University of Texas at Austin, much of my focus was on researching best practices for teaching, as well as preparing to train the future generations of music educators. Assessment is all too often a mandatory part of teacher evaluations to meet state and national standards. But in concept, assessment is the best tool for teachers to measure whether their teaching leads to observable outcomes. In simple terms, all teachers must critically reflect on how well they know if their students are responding and learning from their teaching.
Philosophy for young people is a profound way to get this feedback. My graduate advisor, Dr. Laurie Scott, challenged me to think about how philosophy for young people could provide important feedback for teachers in their assessment. If students can gracefully articulate their ideas, reflect, question, and respond with respect, what better tool could there be than dialogue for assessment? In this regard, I discovered an avenue to better advocate for the inclusion of philosophical dialogue in the music classroom when promoting the idea to teachers unfamiliar with the concept—dialogue affords invaluable assessment opportunity.
Just as I described the journey as being serendipitous it hasn’t always been easy to bring philosophical dialogue into my classrooms. Through informal surveys, nearly all my students value philosophical dialogue, but not all of them initially feel comfortable participating. The most common response I get from those who are not so keen on the idea is that it is “challenging” or “hard.” This admission that philosophy is challenging is what motivates me to continually advocate for philosophy for young people and reinforces the value of it in my classes. If it is challenging, it means that learning can take place. Our job as educators should be to help our students gain the confidence of expressing their own ideas so that they can grow, deal with adversity, and forge authentic connections with others.
