Not by Faith, but by Sight

....faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Hebrews 11:1 (New King James Bible)

...faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.

James 2:17 (New King James Bible)

What is “faith?” Arguably, the colloquial definition of faith is the belief in the existence of things unseen, yet to be seen, or putting one’s total trust or confidence in something or someone greater than oneself. With that in mind, do we[1] have faith in the representation of Blackness in the music history/musicology curricula? Are we—as students and teachers within these disciplines—devout followers trained to believe in the presence of Blackness we cannot see? Can we blindly trust the various curricula and institutions that have remained largely unchanged over the years to not only teach but also respectfully represent Black musicians and scholarship through gradual change and interventional efforts—or must we renegotiate any trust we have in these systems around systematic and ruptural approaches to bring substantive representation of Black excellence into higher education classrooms?

The faith that we currently have in academia, the music history curricula, and teaching strategies needs to be further disrupted. As devotees to the curricula we perpetuate, we have become blinded by the faith we have in it. Even as we start to take issue with various curricula consisting predominantly of white composers and scholars, white faculty and grad students, and white-washed histories, as trained scholars we can often miss how rooted the issues are, and how drastic our response should be. It has become such a norm that along with faith, there is now fear—the fear of dismantling and deconstructing an old and powerful system. 

Although talk of diversity and inclusivity in music curricula has long permeated discussions in both musicology and music education, the difficulties of implementing change and resistance accompanying these discussions often overpower the urgency for change. Two issues should be considered. First, the myths of “art music” and “meritocracy” in music production, composition, marketing, and, yes, education and scholarship, promote various values and traditions—many of which exclude people of color even as they simultaneously highlight forms, sounds, and ideas that are grounded in, and should be centered around, the lives and histories of people of color. Second, we need to realize and accept that most music teachers entering the profession are white and middle-class, both in higher education and in primary and secondary schools around the United States. The process of becoming a music educator and scholar is still heavily rooted in the Western European classical music tradition. As such, music education programs primarily reflect this type of music and create a self-perpetuating cycle (Bull 2019, 65). These revered traditions intentionally cultivate a culture that marginalizes Black communities, students, and faculty members of color.

First, the myths of “art music” and “meritocracy” in music production, composition, marketing, and, yes, education and scholarship, promote various values and traditions—many of which exclude people of color even as they simultaneously highlight forms, sounds, and ideas that are grounded in, and should be centered around, the lives and histories of people of color. Second, we need to realize and accept that most music teachers entering the profession are white and middle-class, both in higher education and in primary and secondary schools around the United States.

With the sudden influx of musical and academic institutions scrambling to work on and through their racist pasts, scores of orchestras, music societies, opera houses, and music ensembles have voiced their solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement, albeit sometimes in awkward language (Batty 2020). But the question remains, in the United States particularly—do current music education/musicology curricula allow Black students to see themselves in it? The need for Black visibility affects all levels of music curricula, from K–12 Black History Month programs all the way to the collegiate level “World Music,” ethnomusicology, and popular music courses where Blackness is exoticized, tokenized, or altogether nonexistent. This is also true of contributions from other communities that have been historically disadvantaged and/or stem from colonized backgrounds. Teaching Black History, educators can honor, explore, and rightfully credit African and African American heritage and tradition in a way that not only celebrates but also educates students and their communities about the underrepresented and often overlooked teaching and scholarly contributions from Black pedagogues, academics, and activists.

These negotiations are important in white educators’ classrooms as well. Recognition of privilege is an essential element of teaching, but should spur white graduate student teachers and faculty to find ways to truly reach out to Black communities. Instead of “teaching” about “Black culture” that is detached from the classroom and not represented by educators themselves, there must be a felt responsibility to highlight Black excellence in scholarship with readings, multimedia, and recordings; invite Black speakers, performers, and community members into the classroom physically or virtually (and find ways to pay them for their time!); and talk genuinely with colleagues, student groups, and broader local communities or organizations as the syllabus is in development to integrally embed Blackness in classroom discussions, rather than tokenize or exotify Black experience as a course “footnote” or “add-on.”

Even with these interventions, however, many Western Classical music programs solely emphasize the African/African American experience during slavery, propagating assumptions that the Middle Passage stripped enslaved persons of their African traditions and that slaves had little influence on the American culture beyond negro spirituals or jazz. On the other side of that coin, many World Music and ethnomusicology programs fetishize the cultures of the Africa and African Diaspora and diminish the dynamic and rich experiences of African and diasporic peoples. In these cases, faith is extended from the academic structures of higher educational canons and traditional curricula and programs to the members of faculty who have conducted fieldwork in those areas. Here, Black junior scholars put their faith in the knowledge and experiences of their white educators because of their institutionalized position of power. These students may not yet have seen or experienced these cultures for themselves, and this further convolutes this power dynamic. The problem with this practice is that many of these experiences are narrated by people with historically advantaged backgrounds. This ultimately perpetuates a colonialist, supremacist, and othering view of the African continent, even—and maybe even especially—if the educator in question is teaching using models approved for the past fifty (or more) years.

Black History is rich and deeply rooted in excellence, yet much of that excellence is often ignored because many educators are unwilling to take the extra step of challenging the blinding faith that is currently being and has previously been taught. The belief that educators should not “reinvent the wheel” by diverging from entrenched curricular approaches—even though these pedagogies have silenced and continue to silence or downplay African/African American contributions—contributes to this lack of action. Rectifying these exclusionary practices begins with educators. They must avoid becoming the sole voice of a culture, and instead promote and amplify the voices of “culture bearers” so students can gain a kaleidoscopic, rather than unilateral, understanding through multiple lenses. Slavery is a part of history, but not the only story of Africans/African Americans. The accomplishments of those who were triumphant throughout and beyond slavery is critical to a wider understanding of the culture. “The Battle of Manassas” by Thomas “Blind Tom” Wiggins is just as important as the negro spiritual “We Shall Overcome,” which is equally as important as the works by George Walker, Duke Ellington, Valerie Coleman, and Wynton Marsalis. Black History must be more than ticking a checkbox. History and culture demand the respect of well-prepared scholarship, performances, and presentations that reflect and celebrate the authenticity and relevance of the legacy of Africans/African Americans.

They must avoid becoming the sole voice of a culture, and instead promote and amplify the voices of “culture bearers” so students can gain a kaleidoscopic, rather than unilateral, understanding through multiple lenses. Slavery is a part of history, but not the only story of Africans/African Americans. The accomplishments of those who were triumphant throughout and beyond slavery is critical to a wider understanding of the culture.

Where are Black composers and scholars such as Joseph Bologne, Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, William Grant Still, George Bridgetower, and Florence Price who existed simultaneously with their canonical white European contemporaries foregrounded in the curricula (Wyatt 1996, 239–57)? In recent years, there have been more and more discussions of these composers in Music History classrooms, but they are often integrated haphazardly, and without as much preparation as their already over-researched and -taught white counterparts. Linda Shaver-Gleason notes that much of Philip Ewell’s scholarship centers around the idea that Black (and female, and people of color and historically colonized/disadvantaged backgrounds) should not be “added” to the already overfilled canon of white, male composers institutionally mandated for over a century—instead, the whole canon should be broken down, and either rebuilt as a far more inclusive entity or disregarded in higher education programs entirely (Shaver-Gleason 2018, drawing on an unpublished conference presentation by Ewell).

Additionally, why are Black composers located on the outskirts of classical music or relegated to some form of the “jazz canon” (Morrison 2019, 781-823)? The word “race” and its usage throughout history seem to cause discomfort and lead to timidity and a lack of preparedness in aptly broaching the topic in both scholarly and non-scholarly settings. Efforts to circumvent that word have therefore garnered mixed levels of success. The sudden inclusion of Black excellence in curricula by academic institutions must not be ignored. However, these efforts, if not done with structured consistency, can be mistaken for another phrase that has been added to our vocabularies post-2020, “performative activism.” This type of grandstanding—which everyone sees but rarely and selectively challenges—has a long history and has become particularly ubiquitous in the age of social media and soundbites, but where and when is the end (Ross 2020)? Denying the existence of “race,” and its sibling antagonist “racism,” will not root out this performative activism; it will only perpetually cloak the damage that it does. 

How much longer should we wait for the system to change on its own when history has proven that for centuries it is biased against Black composers and scholarship? Musicologists and music educators of all ethnicities must realize the buck stops with them; there is no more passing it on or hoping someone else does this much-needed work. It is paramount that we convince other like-minded individuals and also those with differing opinions in academia to call it like it is rather than yielding to the more comfortable tendency of denying that most taught histories and theories are heavily racialized. All voices can and should be heard regardless of their varying opinions. Student and faculty research and presentation collaborations that include experimentation and discussion between all involved can lay the groundwork for change to occur. Any one group cannot, and should not, claim ownership or authority over such vast and complex issues. Both white and Black scholars must be involved in deliberate, non-hypocritical, genuine, and conscious conversations together. Finally, all academics should acknowledge they are a part of the problem of racial inequity in the curricula—and I believe they must also be a part of the solution. 

The terms “diversity,” “equity,” and “inclusion” (often abbreviated DEI) mean very little if they are just used as tokens. An acknowledgment of these terms, and the problems they indicate, is simply not enough. For real change to occur, academics and administrators alike need to roll up their sleeves and get into the messy, everyday work of inclusion (Tan 2021, 4–8). Allyship within all levels of authority will contribute to rethinking the faith that we have in academia. Below are suggestions that can be considered to implement that needed change:

• Educate yourself and others. There is no limit to the knowledge you can receive or impart.

• Address privileges and biases. It is a privilege to teach, and that privilege should be used as a platform to address biases and implement change.

• Listen and acknowledge. Listen to and acknowledge the voices of Black students and works of Black musicians and scholars.

• Speak up. With belief that topics will not be misconstrued, and the grace to genuinely participate and listen, all parties can hopefully feel confident in respectfully speaking up, knowing that through their actions change will occur.

The year 2020 brought about long overdue awareness of and education about racist structures, systems, terms, acronyms, and labeling of behaviors, but 2021 must be the year in which this newfound knowledge is put into action. The faith in the system cannot be absent from the important questions, the work we must do, and the problems we see in front of us. Simply put, students and junior scholars of all ethnicities need to see works and scholarship created by African American scholars and those of African descent in the music history curriculum and within musicology scholarship. Rather than entering the canon of educational norms, they should in fact disrupt the canon entirely. The contributions of these musicians and scholars can no longer be ignored, and the necessity for Black students to see themselves represented in the work they study is crucial to their success. In these cases, faith without work is not faith at all. It is time we begin the work in earnest.

Suggested Further Reading

De Lerma, Dominique-René. 1990. “Black Composers in Europe: A Works List.” Black Music Research Journal 10 (2): 275–334.

Brown, Danielle. 2020. “An Open Letter on Racism in Music Studies — My People Tell Stories.” My People Tell Stories (blog). https://www.mypeopletellstories.com/blog/open-letter.

Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang. 2012. “Decolonization Is Not a Metaphor.” Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society 1 (1): 1–40.

Ewell, Philip A. 2020. “Music Theory and the White Racial Frame.” Music Theory Online 26 (2).

Flaherty, Colleen. 2007. “Music Theory Journal Criticized for Symposium on Supposed White Supremacist Theorist.” Inside Higher Ed. https://www.insidehighered.com/news/2020/08/07/music-theory-journal-criticized-symposium-supposed-white-supremacist-theorist.

Hess, Juliet. 2015. “Decolonizing Music Education: Moving Beyond Tokenism.” International Journal of Music Education 33 (3): 336–47.

“Historic Composers Directory.” 2020. Music by Black Composers (website). Last modified July 20, 2020. https://www.musicbyblackcomposers.org/resources/historic-composers-directory/.

Rosenberg, Davin, ed. 2016. “Decolonizing Ethnomusicology.” SEM Student News 12 (2). https://cdn.ymaws.com/ethnomusicology.site-ym.com/resource/group/dc75b7e7-47d7-4d59-a660-19c3e0f7c83e/publications/SEMSN12.2.pdf.

Thurman, Kira, and Kristen Turner. 2017. “Six Easy Ways to Immediately Address Racial and Gender Diversity in Your Music History Classroom.” Musicology Now. https://musicologynow.org/six-easy-ways-to-immediately-address-racial-and-gender-diversity-in-your-music-history-classroom/.

Walker, Margaret E. 2020. “Towards a Decolonized Music History Curriculum.” Journal of Music History Pedagogy 10 (1): 1–19.

References

 Batty, David. 2020. “Universities Criticised for ‘Tokenistic’ Support for Black Lives Matter.” The Guardian, July 6, 2020. https://www.theguardian.com/education/2020/jul/06/universities-criticised-for-tokenistic-support-for-black-lives-matter.

Bull, Anna. 2019. Class, Control, and Classical Music. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 

Kelly-McHale, Jacqueline. 2016. “Why Music Education Needs to Incorporate More Diversity,” National Association for Music Education. https://nafme.org/music-education-needs-incorporate-diversity/.

McGinty, Doris Evans. 1993. “Black Scholars on Black Music: The Past, the Present, and the Future.” Black Music Research Journal 13 (1): 1–13.

Morrison, Matthew D. 2019. “Race, Blacksound, and the (Re)Making of Musicological Discourse.” Journal of the American Musicological Society 72 (3): 781–823.

Ross, Alex. 2020. “Black Scholars Confront White Supremacy in Classical Music.” The New Yorker. Last modified September 14, 2020. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/09/21/black-scholars-confront-white-supremacy-in-classical-music?utm_source=NYR_REG_GATE.

Shaver-Gleason, Linda. 2018. “Who wrote the symphonies, and why should it matter?” Not Another Music History Cliché! (blog). https://notanothermusichistorycliche.blogspot.com/2018/09/who-wrote-symphonies-and-why-should-it.html.

Southern, Eileen. 1975. “America's Black Composers of Classical Music.” Music Educators Journal 62 (3): 46–59.

Tan, Shzr Ee. 2021. “Special Issue: Decolonising Music and Music Studies.” Ethnomusicology Forum 30 (1): 4–8.

Wyatt, Lucius R. 1996. “The Inclusion of Concert Music of African-American Composers in Music History Courses.” Black Music Research Journal 16 (2): 239–57.