Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue…

I am sure we have all encountered this saying before… perhaps even enacted it on that ‘special day’? I heard someone quote this last week and my mind immediately associated it with the way I approach teaching music. Later that day I looked up the saying to discover that it had an additional line:

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a silver sixpence in her shoe.[i]

I am a traditionalist at heart and take comfort in some of the traditions established in music education. I am cautious of approaches that too quickly discard – and even degrade – what has worked in the past. I am healthily critical of new approaches – often pedalled by under-informed ‘salesmen’ – as, after all, music education is vitally important and we need to ensure that every student receives informed and robust musical experiences. Before I paint you a portrait of myself as a tuning fork-wielding, vintage tweed-coated, mothball-scented, stand-at-the-front-of-the-room music teacher, let me assure you that I do not subscribe to tradition alone. I traverse a dialectic of tradition and innovation in my teaching. A few years ago I read a fantastic book entitled Godless Morality: Keeping Religion out of Ethics.[ii] Though discussing the traditions firmly ingrained in religion, the author, Richard Holloway, perfectly encapsulated my own thoughts as to why resting on tradition alone is doomed to failure:

By the time we start appealing to tradition, in order to preserve some custom or practice, its days are clearly numbered, because traditions really only work when they are legitimated by widespread consent. Once we start appealing to the past as argument we are being false to the past itself, because we have removed it from the circumstances that gave it logic and integrity and have started recasting it to suit our own very different needs. Traditions work by unconscious acceptance. While they are effectively and unreflectively their role, they continue to have one… This does not mean, however, that it is impossible for traditions to evolve into new uses. Prudent historical institutions maintain themselves by a process of adaptation to changing circumstances. There is a profound instinct in us to maintain the historical community of our institutions, but there is also a need for adaptive adjustment to new knowledge and the changes it brings. Many of the most significant changes to our values and ideas can be cloaked and obscured by the apparent continuity of the institutions that carry them through history. (pp. 29-30)

Indeed. The institutions that house these traditional approaches can and do still support effective learning; however, they must consider the circumstances within which they are delivered. Today, they face new challenges. I do not unconsciously accept traditions, but rather work with adaptations of them. Any tradition in music education worth holding onto can mould to our current contexts. I believe that there is a substantial amount of life left in some of the traditional approaches to music education. My connections to these tried-and-tested approaches are my ‘something old’. I do also actively seek out to trial new approaches and ideas in my classroom – these form my ‘something new’. Aware of the ‘salesmen’, these approaches are subjected to rigorous critique and testing; some of these new elements are adopted into my practice, others not. The key criteria by which they are measured are in their ability to support robust music learning. On occasion I stumble upon or create ‘something new’ – a more up-to-date way of exercising the traditions of our institution. I detailed a recent example of this in my last post, Some Thoughts on Developing Aural Awareness. I also draw resources and ideas from others. In 2012 I then reluctantly joined the Twitter community (@cmbonar). Using it solely as a professional tool, I have come across many new ideas and feel a greater sense of connectedness to fellow music teachers and professional organisations. I have also joined several Facebook groups with the same intent. From these connections I find my ‘something borrowed’. These are often new ideas, or new ways of approaching old ones… In the context of ‘borrowing’, I also borrow across a range of approaches and methodologies that I currently work with to construct a best fit – the ‘best bits’ of each to ‘best fit’ the lesson I am teaching. I am coming around full circle – ‘something old’, ‘something new’… and appropriations of old to form new. My thoughts as to ‘something blue’ beg a little more creative licence. Despite the traditions of our institution, new approaches and thoughts, and the support of borrowed items, things do not always work out in the classroom. Often this leaves me feeling frustrated – sometimes a little ‘blue’. On many occasions I had thought I had a good lesson prepared, only to see it fall apart within minutes… I often expect too much, race through content, plan in too much detail… I have come to realise, however, that it is in and after these moments that I question and critique my practice. This questioning and critiquing serves to further inform my teaching – both the students (hopefully) and I gain from this.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue…

The lines of this rhyme taken in isolation do not give much away; they are intended to be read as a whole. Maybe I have pushed individual associations too far… Each ‘something’ does not really exist in without the others; I move between each, and often use them simultaneously. Between them, I think is where I am best positioned to respect both tradition and innovation in my teaching. Some days I am more one than the other, but they all interact. So, what of the ‘silver sixpence in her shoe’? I think that the musical encounters we provide for our students – those based on something old, new and borrowed – have the potential to add just a little more richness to their day. Just think what we can credit their musical ‘account’ with over the course of their schooling. Afterwards, then hopefully they can pay some richness on to others too…

[i] The origin and source of this text is unclear, though during the early 1600s it was customary for the Lord of the Manor to give his bride a piece of silver as a wedding gift. This was symbolically represented by a sixpence coin. It later became a tradition to include a sixpence in the dowry that was given by the bride’s family to the groom. The tradition of the sixpence as a symbol of good luck continues today.

[ii] Holloway, R. (1999). Godless morality: Keeping religion out of ethics. Edinburgh: Canongate Books.