Room to Breathe, Room to Grow Shannan Hibbard-Melkonian


As teachers of music, we embody a philosophy. Through our actions, we live out the reasons we believe music is important for our students to learnweWe may think we are merely choosing songs, activities, games, and program conten,, but are also showing what we believe to be important. We are one of the windows through which our students see the subject of “music.” The content we choose and the method by which we deliver it convey something more important than we might think. They represent our practice—our beliefs, attitudes, and heart.


If our actions represent our beliefs, what is the quality of our practice? Do we represent music in a way that is engaging, relevant, and inspiring? Are we the kind of “face” for music that will encourage our students to engage with it in the future, whether as active listeners, performers, or patrons? To reach these worthwhile goals, I know I have a lot of growing to do. I know my growth as an educator can result in more than just an enrichment of my own life, but can greatly affect what I offer my students. Their growth hinges upon mine.


But how do we grow as teachers? Practically, growth happens with experience, reflection, and then building on our strengths as we tackle the weaknesses. Formally, we seek out growth from a vast array of professional development experiences—from those pre-determined by our administrators to chosen activities such as our state music conferences and various workshops. In general music, many of us choose to deepen our experiences with n preferred methodology and seek out new activities to share with students. Musically, many of us also continue to perform and enrich our skills.


Sometimes growth happens because we plan it, but it also can happen when we least expect it. I am fascinated by how many unexpected moments in the classroom have provided learning opportunities that have greatly contributed to my own growth as a teacher. We’ve all experienced the moments where we are moved, where our students inspire us, or where the outcome of a lesson is so much more than what we expected. As I deconstruct those moments from my teaching, I cannot ignore the fact that they often occurred when I took a chance, stepped outside of my own teaching “box,” or allowed a lesson to go in a direction completely unplanned. I remember a time when I closed a first grade lesson by singing “Summertime” using DuBose


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and Heyward’s picture book. Though my intent was only to provide a singing model, introduce students to Porgy and Bess and provide a quiet activity with which to end class, my first grade students banded together, insisting they learn to sing this song. Though I did not consider “Summertime” an appropriate choice for first grade voices, I obliged, giving them time to listen, create appropriate motions, and sing. After several weeks, they held to their love of the song, made it their own, and performed it at the next concert. It was a moment I will never forget—a time where I was able to sit back and enjoy first grade students artfully performing a piece they truly loved.


The students continued to request to sing “Summertime” together through the course of their second grade year. Upon leaving my position to begin graduate work, I learned of the death of one of the students’ fathers, whic. I was shocked and saddened to heis. He was a man who was active in our school and passionate about his family. At the funeral, a touching highlight was when his eight year-old daughter sang an emotional solo. The selection: “Summertime.”


Through this example, I grew immensely simply by getting out of the way. If I had proceeded with my plan to only sing “for” the students in that moment, the story would have ended there. The children knew exactly what they wanted and needed space to accomplish it. It is this idea of “breathing room” that intrigues me; the idea that growth can result not only from deepening our knowledge and experience, but also from giving our practice room to breathe. It is this breathing room or space that we often miss as we forge through our busy teaching schedules and personal lives. Consider for a moment that we might benefit by opening up; by allowing breathing room and space for our students, the music, and ourselves.


What would happen if we gave our students more space? We can abandon our own plans and take the time to run with a child’s idea. Giving students space can include validating ideas, realizations, and creative endeavors. It can mean hearing individuals’ musical ideas within improvisation and composition. If the students are inspired, let them run with it! How about leaving a blank spot or two in your yearly planning? Where might the students lead you? How might these unexpected, unplanned turns contribute to the quality of our teaching and our students’ learning?


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