Abstract
The purpose of this narrative study was to explore three minoritized preservice music teachers’ experiences with microaggressions in academic settings. The guiding questions were as follows: (a) How do minoritized preservice music teachers describe their experiences with microaggressions? and (b) In what ways are microaggressions perceived to impact their lives? Data sources comprised semi-structured interviews and artifacts, such as school data and social media. Based on the findings, participants experienced various types of microaggressions throughout their education. Microaggressors included peers, faculty, and a graduate teaching assistant. Examples of microaggressions involved comments and behaviors regarding appearances, language proficiency, sexual/attractional orientation, and citizenship status; derogatory language; and the unpermitted touching of hair. Suggestions for music teacher educators include embedding relevant literature, self-reflection, and discussion into courses. Music teacher educators can incorporate class activities in which students identify common problematic words and behaviors that can create a sense of unbelonging in classrooms.
Microaggressions are unintentional insults directed at individuals from marginalized groups based on aspects encompassing race, nationality, class, gender, ability, sexual/attractional orientation, and religion (Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Sue & Spanierman, 2020; Torino et al., 2019). Although the “micro” part of the term suggests that microaggressions are harmless, their impact can be significant (Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Sue & Spanierman, 2020; Torino et al., 2019). Moreover, “whether conscious or not, microaggressions perpetuate a larger system of racism” (Pérez Huber & Solórzano, 2015, p. 302) along with other forms of discrimination (e.g., ableism, classism, colorism, sexism). Understanding microaggressions and their impact may help prevent harmful practices in music education.
Microaggressions in Schools
Researchers have emphasized that microaggressions can affect schooling experiences. For instance, students of color may encounter devaluation, stereotyping, or be perceived as unintelligent or criminal (Allen, 2010, 2013; Ballinas, 2017; Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Eisenberg et al., 2022; Kohli et al., 2019; Nadal et al., 2014; Ngui et al., 2024; Pérez Huber & Cueva, 2012; Yosso et al., 2009). They may also face other forms of negative treatment, such as being called derogatory names and racial slurs (Ballinas, 2017; Eisenberg et al., 2022; Kohli et al., 2019; Ngui et al., 2024; Yosso et al., 2009), having their names ridiculed (Ballinas, 2017; Kohli et al., 2019; Kohli & Solórzano, 2012), or experiencing microaggressions disguised as compliments and jokes (Kohli et al., 2019; Yosso et al., 2009). Understanding students’ backgrounds can help prevent mistreatment; however, some common questions may be microaggressive. Particularly, inquiries about national origin and citizenship status (Ballinas, 2017) might foster a sense of alienation, suggesting students do not belong. The question “Where are you really from?” frames someone as a “perpetual foreigner” (Bouley & Reinking, 2021).
Students’ interactions with peers can be influenced by the school climate (Burleigh & Wilson, 2021; Eisenberg et al., 2022; Kohli & Solórzano, 2012; Linville, 2018). In Ballinas’s (2017) study, school personnel failed to address derogatory terms directed at Latin[e] students, which “normalized the use of slurs against Latinx students and marked them as inferior” (p. 392). Eisenberg et al. (2022) revealed varied responses to microaggressions among staff, leading adolescents to believe that the school’s overall response was inadequate. Unresponsiveness toward microaggressions can diminish students’ trust in school personnel (Bouley & Reinking, 2021).
Beyond race, researchers have examined microaggressions related to gender identity/expression (Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Linville, 2018; Munro et al., 2019) and sexual/attractional orientation (Baricevic & Kashubeck-West, 2019), among others. For example, cisgender individuals are more likely to reinforce gender-related microaggressions (Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Munro et al., 2019), and LGBTQ+ students may encounter various microaggressions, including expressed condemnation, devaluation, and distancing (Baricevic & Kashubeck-West, 2019). Other forms of bias that may lead to microaggressions include those related to ability/disability, religion/spirituality, economics, family diversity, and language (Bouley & Reinking, 2021).
Impact of Microaggressions
Microaggressions have a cumulative effect (Sue & Spanierman, 2020). A single incident might not cause significant harm; however, accumulation can be detrimental, affecting emotional, mental, and physical health (Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Eisenberg et al., 2022; Kohli et al., 2019; Nadal et al., 2014; Ngui et al., 2024; Sue & Spanierman, 2020; Torino et al., 2019). Individuals affected by microaggressions may experience anger, hurt, and stress (Eisenberg et al., 2022; Yosso et al., 2009), which can evolve into anxiety, depression, isolation, absenteeism, and decreased productivity (Torino et al., 2019). For students, the impact can lead to disengagement from school (Bouley & Reinking, 2021), ultimately affecting their educational and career trajectories.
Microaggressions in Music Education
Music education scholars have documented microaggressions in the experiences of women (Coen-Mishlan, 2015; Fitzpatrick & Sweet, 2024; Shouldice, 2024) and LGBTQ+ music teachers (Smith, 2023). In a survey of female and feminine-presenting band directors, Shouldice (2024) found that microaggressions categorized as second-class citizenship were the most frequently reported, which included undervaluing and excluding female directors. Motherhood adds another layer to experiences. The negative perceptions others may hold about working mothers (Fitzpatrick & Sweet, 2024) are, indeed, microaggressive. Beyond gender issues specific to women, Hess (2016) elucidated how heteronormativity and gender normativity cause harm, including when teacher discourse fails to validate all students’ identities. Smith (2023) highlighted mental health risks for LGBTQ+ music teachers resulting from microaggressive stress and identity trauma, which can emanate from harassment and invalidation.
Researchers have also explored the experiences of Black music teachers and students (Parker, 2024; Waldron, 2025). Stories in Waldron (2025) revealed microaggressions encompassing colleagues telling racist jokes and a student writing the N-word on a music stand. Parker (2024) did not focus specifically on microaggressions; however, their study with students at predominantly White institutions found evidence of them. One incident involved a White student comparing another student’s darker skin tone to tarnish. These examples are a few of many that are problematic.
Responding to Microaggressions
Because music educators may witness microaggressions, Abramo (2024) offered suggestions from the literature, such as “calling in” and “calling out.” Calling in may involve a private conversation where the educator asks questions to understand the microaggressor’s perspective, helping them recognize the harm of their words and actions. Calling out is a more public response and may be more suitable in overt situations (e.g., when derogatory terms are used). Educators may tailor their responses to the context and the individuals involved; however, repeated call-outs may have negative effects (Ross, 2019, 2026). Black feminist scholar Loretta J. Ross (2019, 2026) forwarded call-in culture to foster more productive dialogue and change.
Purpose and Research Questions
In this narrative study, I explored three minoritized preservice music teachers’ (PSMTs) experiences with microaggressions in academic contexts. The overarching questions guiding the study were: (a) How do minoritized PSMTs describe their experiences with microaggressions? and (b) In what ways are microaggressions perceived to impact their lives? Gaining a deeper understanding of microaggressions and their impact can help inform socially just and humanizing practices. Further research into PSMTs’ experiences with microaggressions is essential if music teacher educators (MTEs) aim to recruit and retain teachers from diverse backgrounds (see Confredo et al., 2023).
Theoretical Framework
To guide the research questions, interviews, and analysis, I drew on microaggression theory (Sue & Spanierman, 2020; Torino et al., 2019). Sue and Spanierman (2020) and Torino et al. (2019) categorized microaggressions as microinvalidations, microinsults, and microassaults. Microinvalidations dismiss the experiences of individuals from marginalized groups, comprising those who identify as BBIA (Black, Brown, Indigenous, and Asian), LGBTQ+, women, and people with disabilities, among many others. Microinsults undermine or belittle a person’s identity through insensitive interactions or stereotypes and manifest as an “often-hidden insulting message” (Sue & Spanierman, 2020, p. 49). Microassaults are conscious, intentional “verbal, non-verbal, or environmental attacks intended to convey discriminatory and biased sentiments” (Torino et al., 2019, p. 4). They are more overt and may include derogatory terms (e.g., the N-word) or offensive symbols (e.g., a Confederate flag or a swastika).
Method
Clandinin (2013) noted, “Narrative inquiry is situated in relationships and in community, and it attends to notions of expertise and knowing in relational and participatory ways” (p. 13). Through narrative inquiry, I worked with participants to co-compose the stories they told, retold, and relived into research texts, thereby restorying their experiences (Clandinin, 2013). Another significant aspect of narrative inquiry is its capacity to “mobilize others into action for progressive social change” (Riessman, 2008, p. 9). As authorities on their own experiences, Vincent, Theo, and Kasey (pseudonyms) provided cases of microaggressions and recommendations to advance more inclusive and humanizing practices.
Participants
Using purposeful and criterion sampling (Patton, 2015), I sought participants who were PSMTs and who self-identified within a minoritized background or identity (i.e., race, ethnicity, and sexual orientation). I identified and built rapport with Vincent, Theo, and Kasey, who previously discussed microaggressions and aspects of their schooling experiences with me. After obtaining IRB approval, I emailed the individuals to invite them to participate. Although the participants identified as cisgender males, I did not intentionally seek to recruit any specific gender or minoritized identities. At the time of the study, they were senior music education majors enrolled at a southwestern minority-serving university.
Researcher Positionality
I am a biracial second-generation Filipina immigrant who has regularly experienced microaggressions. People have asked questions such as, “What are you?” and “Where are you really from?” I have been called a “mutt” and told that I am “not really Asian.” As a woman, I have received inappropriate comments about my physical appearance and have been invalidated while speaking. While my microaggressors may have been well-intentioned, their words and actions have been dehumanizing, exoticizing, and alienating. Consequently, I have often felt as though I do not belong in many spaces, a feeling that has yet to subside.
I connected with Vincent, Theo, and Kasey because we had experienced microaggressions. Although the microaggressions varied based on our respective identities, the outcomes were similar. During interviews, I made a conscious effort to listen and respond to their experiences without asserting my own over theirs, working with them to unpack the particularities of their unique experiences.
Data Generation and Analysis
I interviewed each participant three to four times over an 8-week period, either in person or via Zoom, using a semi-structured format with questions informed by microaggression literature (e.g., Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Kohli & Solórzano, 2012; Linville, 2018; Sue & Spanierman, 2020; Torino et al., 2019). Initial questions focused on participants’ identities, home backgrounds, school experiences, and teaching perspectives. I reviewed each transcript to develop questions for subsequent interviews. Interviews spanned 32 and 82 min, for a total of 637 min. Secondary data sources comprised school data, social media, pictures, and videos.
I followed Polkinghorne’s (1995) analysis of narratives (paradigmatic mode of analysis) to identify and organize common themes. I examined each participant’s narrative individually, looking for unique concepts that emerged in addition to occurrences of microinvalidations, microinsults, and microassaults (Sue & Spanierman, 2020; Torino et al., 2019) for alignment with the framework. The themes that emerged from analyses were “tensions with identity,” “experiences in schools,” and “the impact of microaggressions.” Organizing the stories by theme helped highlight the commonalities and differences in participants’ experiences.
Methodological Integrity and Ethics
To establish narrative trustworthiness, Josselson and Hammack (2021) recommended reviewing: the data and research question; the amount and contextualization of the data; perspective management; the coherence and groundedness of interpretations; and ethics. The 3–4 interviews with participants from diverse backgrounds provided nuanced insights for the overarching questions. For perspective management, I considered how my positionality and experiences aligned with and differed from those of Vincent, Theo, and Kasey, and wrote reflections as I contemplated my experiences. To ensure coherence and groundedness in my interpretations, I enlisted a fellow researcher as a reviewer. While interviewing, I maintained an “ethical attitude” (Josselson & Hammack, 2021) by seeking participant consent for the interviews, clarifying the aims of the study, and verifying the accuracy of content (during interviews, analysis, and in the final transcript). Vincent, Theo, and Kasey shared updated perspectives after reading the manuscript, which I included as epilogues (see Appendix).
Participants’ Narratives
Participants’ narratives are presented individually and organized according to themes that emerged.
Vincent’s Narrative
Vincent was born and raised in the southeastern United States and identified as Afro-Latino. His father was an Afro-Latino immigrant from the Dominican Republic, and his U.S.-born mother was of White and of Hispanic descent.
Tensions With Identity
Vincent grappled with his identity, which he attributed to his physical appearance and others’ perceptions of his limited Spanish proficiency: “A lot of Latinos don’t acknowledge me because I don’t speak Spanish, and a lot of African Americans don’t acknowledge me because I’m too light [in skin color].” Regarding language, he said: “A lot of the Hispanic kids, they’d make fun of me for not speaking Spanish. They said, ‘How are you gonna be Hispanic and not speak Spanish?’” Relatedly, Vincent was not seen as a person of color because of how he “acted”: “I had been told multiple times that people don’t really see me as being of color, because I don’t act ghetto . . . They’re like, ‘Oh, he’s just a normal person.’”
The sociopolitical climate added further complications. For example, Vincent grappled with how to self-identify on documents because of his multiethnic background: [Dad] would prefer me to check Hispanic . . . I told him, “I don’t know which one’s worse right now, especially being in [a southern state].” And this was during the [first] Trump presidency, so I was like, “I don’t know if it’s worse to be Black or Hispanic.”
The Trump presidency was particularly concerning for him, as a second-generation immigrant, because of messages regarding deportations: Deportations were a huge thing. People joke[d] around about getting deported . . . the general attitude seemed to be that all immigrants were bad and “illegal aliens” . . . I remember there was a point I was worried about [deportations] because I actually didn’t know [our family’s citizenship status].
Experiences in Schools
Vincent encountered microaggressive and racist language in high school. The school band program was predominantly White, and he often found himself as the only person of color in his friend groups. He described jokes made by friends: “There was a little bit of racist language. It was always jokingly, but behind every joke, there’s a little bit of truth and meaning behind it.” Derogatory language was commonly heard beyond his friend group. He recalled the night another band member called him the N-word. Vincent knew that his White band director was aware of the incident; however, he preferred not to discuss it with him: [The director] was aware of that situation because that student and I almost got into a physical fight because of that . . . I don’t think he was aware of how common it was or how much it bothered other students of color . . . I didn’t really talk to [the director] much about it. I guess I always felt like he wouldn’t understand.
Vincent encountered other situations at school that negatively affected his experiences, particularly the mispronunciation of his surname. People commonly pronounced Vincent’s surname like a similar Spanish name: “Nobody really said my last name right. It was always misspelt. Everybody thinks it has two l’s. It only has one, and they say it like it has two l’s.” Another issue involved people touching his hair without his consent: People touch my hair because it has a different texture and it looks different . . . I’m like, “Please stop touching me. I didn’t say you can touch me.” . . . I don’t like the implications behind it. It makes me feel different . . . uncomfortable.
Impact of Microaggressions
Given the pervasiveness of microaggressions and racism, Vincent believed that attempting to change perspectives on microaggressions was fruitless. Following a music education class discussion, he and a friend exchanged views: “I [said], ‘At this point, it’s easier to ignore racism, rather than fight it.’ Not because I don’t care about it, but because the time and energy spent convincing one person what they’re saying is wrong, it’s a lot.” Vincent believed that teachers have the potential to influence students’ experiences in schools and stressed the necessity for White teachers to be aware of racial issues, as most of his teachers were White: It’s important for [White] teachers to see what racism looks like, and how it makes people feel. . . it doesn’t feel good when you have those [microaggressive] things said to you, or any actions taken against you, because of the color of your skin . . . because of something you can’t help.
Vincent recognized that there are microaggressions beyond race. During student teaching, he made a comment that elicited a negative response from a student, prompting him to reflect more deeply on interactions: I was trying to help [a student] adjust his facemask and I was like, “Ah, yes. Big mask, little face.” He was like, “Don’t call me little . . . I’m sensitive about that.” . . . I saw his reaction. If that’s the reaction he has when someone says something about a physical characteristic . . . imagine what’s going to happen if somebody says something similar about the color of his skin, the texture of his hair. . . They’ll hear those things, and it’ll hurt them probably for the rest of their lives.
Teodoro’s (Theo’s) Narrative
Theo identified as Hispanic, Mexican American, and “the son of hard-working immigrants.” His parents immigrated from Mexico in search of better opportunities. He grew up in South Texas, in a predominantly Hispanic city near the U.S.-Mexico border.
Tensions With Identity
As a Mexican American, Theo encountered conflicts related to his identity, which he attributed to being “White-passing” and a U.S. citizen: It’s this weird limbo where most people from the U.S. will look at me and be like, “You’re from the [U.S.-Mexico] border? That’s basically Mexico.” But my uncle back home, who lives across the border, he’ll be like, “You’re güerito [White].” . . . It’s almost like an identity crisis . . . Most people do end up labeling me as, “You’re Mexican. That’s what you are.” And it’s like a big stamp on my forehead.
Xenophobia influenced how his family preferred he identify: “My mom told me not to tell people I was Hispanic or Mexican because she said I was White-passing . . . I didn’t resent it, but I was like no, I shouldn’t be scared of that.” As Theo explained, the sociopolitical climate was challenging for some Hispanic communities during Trump’s 2016 presidential election: There were a lot of attacks on Hispanics . . . just some of the remarks I would get whenever I would go out of town on a band trip. Whenever I’d come home and tell my mom, she’d tell me, “You should stop telling people you’re Mexican or you’re Hispanic, just for your safety.”
Experiences in Schools
Theo appreciated being supported by compassionate teachers and classmates. There was, however, a White teacher who made cultural assumptions and held deficit views of students: My band director told us that he loved teaching in [South Texas] because if he taught [elsewhere] and got mad at a [student], the [student] would cry to his parents and he’d get fired. But in [South Texas], because “we’re all Mexican and our moms are strict” . . . if we ever got in trouble, we wouldn’t go home and say it because our parents would get after us. He’s like, “I love that. You guys are just so easy. You guys can take anything.”
A different White teacher expressed negative sentiments about Theo’s culture when she commented on the pronunciation of Mexican foods: My clarinet teacher used to correct me whenever I would say things with [a Spanish] accent. If I said pan dulce, she’d be like, “Why can’t you say pan dulce [in an American English pronunciation]? You’re speaking English, right? You should be able to just say that.” I told her, “Well, that’s how I’ve always said it.” And [she’d say], “I don’t get that. I don’t get why you guys do that.
Outside his community, Theo was targeted by a disparaging comment from a student during a marching competition: “The day [Trump] got elected [in 2015]. . . this random White kid [said], ‘Hey man, you ready to get deported?’ I looked at him and [said], ‘I’m a U.S. citizen, man. I don’t know what you’re saying.’”
On college campuses, Theo faced comments about his name, appearance, Spanish-speaking, and assumptions about his musical background. While exploring colleges, he attended a band camp at a university where a professor created an awkward situation concerning the pronunciation of his birth name: The professor had me explain how to say my name even though I offered a good substitute . . . [He’s] like “No, you should definitely teach us, man.” [He] singled me out . . . That’s just very uncomfortable . . . But he didn’t stop . . . He still made me explain what my name was, where it comes from, how to say it, and then even after I tried to pronounce it and slow it down . . . He butchered it completely.
Regarding appearance, Theo had been told he does not look Hispanic: “People used to say I don’t look that Hispanic. And people are like, ‘No, well, your facial shape, the way your facial hair grows, the way you talk sometimes. I can hear it in your English.’” He recalled a particular comment about his Spanish-speaking abilities that occurred while on the phone. A peer interjected, “Oh my god. I honestly thought you were speaking in gibberish. I couldn’t understand you . . .” In a college music education class, he felt singled out when an assumption was made about his background: A professor was . . . showing students foreign music . . . like, “It’s very good to show different cultures to people.” I was like, “Yes, I agree with that. We get more educated that way.” But, [I] distinctly remember them talking about, “In Mexico, fathers will sit out on their front porch and play guitar for their kids and sing for them every day.” [The professor] looked right at me and I was like, “Gahhhh. My dad wasn’t that nice.” That made me uncomfortable . . . It still rubs me the wrong way.
Impact of Microaggressions
Theo’s experiences influenced his perspectives on teaching: “I think after years of getting put down and having that chip on my shoulder I’m like, ‘Wow, these people [high school band teachers] treated me bad. I’m gonna be the best teacher, best player that I can.’” He reflected on his teaching philosophy and practices in preparation for his student teaching and career: Just the ability to see some kid that’s never played saxophone make a great sound on it for the first time . . . seeing the smile on his face . . . I don’t care if they go do music . . . As long as they’re getting empowered to be a better version of themselves through music, that’s exactly what I want.
For Theo, microaggressions can seem innocent, and although he tended to be forgiving, the impact was still profound: It’s subtle and people don’t understand they do it but that kind of hits just as hard. You’re already labeling me as, “He’s different.” And in a classroom setting, especially, you’re not supposed to alienate everybody. I’m not “the Mexican dude” or “the Hispanic dude.”
To him, confronting people about microaggressions was burdensome: “What am I gonna do? Like, ‘Hey man, stop.’ ‘Cause then I might be labeled a jerk or an asshole or something.” To avoid confrontation, Theo often chose to ignore what others said. He preferred for others to recognize him for his work: “When I’m recognized for the work I do and the effort I put into what I [do], I feel validated. When someone doesn’t make a comment about my culture or the way I look, that’s what human interaction is.”
Kasey’s Narrative
Kasey identified as a White gay cisgender man from a middle-class background. He was born and raised in a Midwestern state with conservative values. To him, the state was “not the most accepting.”
Tensions With Identity
In high school, Kasey disclosed his attractional orientation to close friends. A few weeks into his freshman year, he was outed by the guy he was seeing: I figured when I was outed that I could either try and deny it and then spend the foreseeable future constantly fighting and pushing back . . . That path would take way more energy than being like, “Yes, I’m gay.”
He grappled with how to move forward after not coming out on his terms: I wasn’t ready to be out . . . I went a whole year and a half having to portray this confidence that I didn’t have to avoid being the gay kid in the [state] high school . . . I was the only underclassman who was open, but it wasn’t by choice.
Following the disclosure of Kasey’s attractional orientation, others began to treat him differently.
Experiences in Schools
Kasey’s high school had a conservative atmosphere. The curriculum adhered to traditional gender roles in classes such as physical education (P.E.). The structure of the curriculum and the dynamics of high school contributed to his desire to delay coming out: I was very intentionally not gonna come out until after I fulfilled my P.E. credit so I wouldn’t have to be in that situation of being the gay kid in the locker room . . . I knew that if I was gonna get punched in the face, it would probably be there.
Kasey’s concerns about P.E. were realized when he noticed changed behaviors among peers: We had already selected our P.E. lockers, and there was this kid . . . he literally asked our P.E. teacher if he could move his locker away from mine . . . It’s pretty easy to connect the dots between me getting outed and this kid moving his gym locker.
Despite the turmoil Kasey faced in school at the time, he recognized that the band room was one place where he typically felt safe and supported: For a while, showing up to school was so freaking difficult, and it was the last thing I wanted to do . . . I wanted to disappear. And it was my experiences in band that really got me through . . . Overall, the people in band didn’t care about my identity.
The band program, however, was not without dissent. He encountered a bandmate who believed he should not be a drum major—a band leader and conductor—due to his identity: “One of my peers told me that they didn’t think that I would be drum major because I’m gay and people [wouldn’t] respect or respond to that.” Concerned about the message he received, he consulted his band director. In their conversation, his band director expressed empathy and shared their personal experiences, which helped Kasey feel supported: “We had this absolute heart-to-heart where [we both] cried. This is what puts it all in context for me, ‘cause in that conversation my sophomore year of high school, [they] came out to me.”
During his university experience, Kasey viewed the faculty as generally accepting. He rarely encountered issues related to his background, likely because he chose not to disclose his sexual orientation. Occasionally, Kasey was asked the heteronormative question, “Do you have a girlfriend?” Despite the overall acceptance, Kasey recalled a couple of concerning instances. One involved a graduate teaching assistant (GTA) who made a gender-biased comment: “[They said], ‘You have a nose piercing?’. . . This teacher went on this whole tangent about, ‘I don’t care much for piercings.’ And [they said], ‘I don’t think that piercings are for men.’” Another concern involved a faculty member’s office, where Kasey noticed religion-themed objects displayed. These items seemed to generate tension, despite the instructor’s open acceptance of LGBTQ+ individuals: [They had] a picture of the cathedral and [rosary] beads hanging as décor, which is cool, but also as a gay man . . . it’s a little tense at times to . . . have your head up against a rosary . . . the Catholic Church’s view on queer identities is not the most positive.
Impact of Microaggressions
Kasey reflected on the importance of listening to persons who are marginalized in society: “I wish more people in college were forced to . . . accept people of color and accept women and accept queer people as authorities and experts on their own lived experience.” His experiences in school have shaped his perspectives on teaching: Having an eye and an ear out for those little ways that these systems manifest . . . I can listen for the ways that students are talking to each other and talking about themselves . . . Shift the way that we’re treating and viewing each other.
While he aimed to disrupt harmful behaviors, Kasey encountered a situation during his student teaching that caused him to question his agency: This [White] boy made a comment about [a Black girl’s] braids . . . the punchline was, “It looks like you have snakes growing out of your head.” . . . He knows enough to know that [her hair is] different . . . But we can’t teach divisive content in schools . . . Retrospectively, I really wish that I was like, “Let’s take a moment. Let’s all take a pause and go there.”
He grappled with how to teach in the era of divisive concepts legislation: “I would like a job. . . I would like not to piss people off while student teaching. What do I do?”
Discussion
In this study, microinvalidations occurred when participants’ experiences and identities were devalued. Vincent faced microinvalidations when others denied his heritage because he did not “look” Latino or African American and was not fluent in Spanish, positioning Vincent as an outsider within the Latine and African American communities. Theo experienced similar microinvalidations as his “White-passing” appearance led others to overlook his Hispanic and Mexican heritage. Meanwhile, although Theo was born and raised in the U.S., the closeness of his hometown to the U.S.-Mexico border led people to claim that it was “basically Mexico,” undermining his American citizenship and the uniqueness of his hometown. These microinvalidations based on language, location, and phenotype reflect the experience of being a “perpetual foreigner” (Bouley & Reinking, 2021).
Participants encountered microinsults through stereotypes and insults related to their backgrounds. For instance, a microinsult involved assumptions made about Kasey’s attractional orientation when others asked if he had a girlfriend, a harmful heteronormative question (Bouley & Reinking, 2021). Concerning his appearance, a GTA commented on his nose ring being feminine, which conveyed gender bias (Bouley & Reinking, 2021). Kasey experienced a nonverbal microaggression in high school when a student asked to switch gym lockers, a microaggression that Baricevic and Kashubeck-West (2019) describe as distancing, which commonly occurs once an LGBTQ+ person’s attractional orientation is known. Theo’s experiences with insensitive comments and stereotypes about “strict” families and musical practices in Mexico relate to Ballinas’s (2017) study, where Mexican students encountered stereotypes and other inappropriate comments. In addition, the critiquing of Theo’s Spanish aligns with the facets of linguistic bias outlined in Bouley and Reinking (2021). A common occurrence for both Vincent and Theo was name mispronunciation. Consistent with prior research, mispronouncing students’ names caused stress and discomfort (Ballinas, 2017; Kohli et al., 2019; Kohli & Solórzano, 2012). Theo’s specific experience of isolation to teach his name created a uniquely uncomfortable situation.
Participant narratives revealed a few microassaults. For example, Kasey experienced a microassault when a peer stated he should not pursue leadership because he was gay. Following the 2016 presidential election, Theo faced a microassault when a student turned and asked if he was “ready to get deported.” A clear case of a microassault was Vincent being called the N-word by a peer. The use of the N-word, along with comments related to deportation and gay identity, was intended to cause harm based on race, ethnicity, and sexual orientation. Like Vincent, people targeted by microassaults may feel uncomfortable approaching teachers, especially if they must explain why something is problematic (Ngui et al., 2024). This discomfort might stem from minimized trust in teachers, particularly if microaggressions have been previously mishandled (Ballinas, 2017; Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Eisenberg et al., 2022).
Suggestions for Teaching and Research
Moving forward, educators (preservice, in-service, and MTEs) should recognize and challenge their biases and dominant discourses (Abramo, 2024; Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Burleigh & Wilson, 2021; Hess, 2016). Eliminating heteronormative language such as “guys” is a simple step educators can take (Hess, 2016). Addressing linguistic and cultural bias is also important. Students’ use of languages other than English should be viewed as an asset that supports linguistically responsive teaching practices. Relatedly, correct name pronunciation is essential as “when students experience disrespect to the names their families gave them, it is disrespect to both their family and their culture” (Kohli & Solórzano, 2012, p. 455). MTEs can model individual introductions to students to verify names, thereby preventing public isolation and mispronunciation. To foster change, Abramo (2024) noted that “educators must . . . continuously work toward systemic curricular and policy changes within schools, and develop strategies for disrupting harmful acts they encounter or observe within and outside of schools” (p. 17). Curricular and policy changes are necessary because of recent content restrictions. For instance, some instructors are prohibited from acknowledging gender beyond biological sex (Whitford, 2025), which does not promote a sense of belonging for all students.
Moving forward, cultivating counterspaces (Pérez Huber & Cueva, 2012; Kohli et al., 2019; Waldron, 2025; Yosso et al., 2009) could help support students from minoritized backgrounds. Given the prevalence of microaggressions, all educators, including GTAs, should attend workshops (Kavanagh et al., 2021; Ngui et al., 2024; Torino et al., 2019), engage in professional development (Burleigh & Wilson, 2021; Eisenberg et al., 2022; Ngui et al., 2024; Torino et al., 2019), and review materials to understand microaggressions and their impacts (Sue & Spanierman, 2020). Because teachers may feel unprepared to address microaggressions (Burleigh & Wilson, 2021), music teacher education programs should incorporate content on microaggressions to better aid PSMTs and in-service teachers. Hess’s (2019) tri-faceted pedagogy for future activism—a pedagogy of community, a pedagogy of expression, and a pedagogy of noticing—could guide coursework. A pedagogy of noticing can frame discussions as it “encourages youth to notice oppression and the ideologies that influence it, even when (perhaps especially when) it does not affect them, and to question what they encounter in daily interactions” (p. 153). Additional reading might incorporate music education resources (e.g., Abramo, 2024; Hess, 2019; Howard, 2022; Salvador et al., 2023) and general education sources (e.g., Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Ross, 2026; Sue & Spanierman, 2020; Torino et al., 2019). Howard (2022) and Bouley and Reinking (2021) are adaptable for a variety of courses.
Action is needed to make the “invisible visible” (Sue & Spanierman, 2020). Rather than remaining silent, educators should disrupt disparaging comments, terms, and behaviors (Bouley & Reinking, 2021; Sue & Spanierman, 2020). Students may not realize how they microaggress others; therefore, educating them about these issues can benefit their post-schooling lives. MTEs should incorporate activities in which PSMTs identify common problematic, microaggressive words and behaviors by teachers. In addition, instructors could present scenarios for addressing microaggressions. Scenarios in this study might serve as starting points. Considering Divisive Concepts Laws (see Salvador et al., 2023)—where policies and legislation restrict content that diverges from society’s majoritarian perspectives on issues comprising race, gender, and sexual/attractional orientation—students in schools may feel a heightened sense of unbelonging, underscoring the need for improved practices. MTEs and PSMTs may fear the potential consequences of addressing microaggressions; however, school policies should foster environments that have no tolerance for harm. Furthermore, microaggressions should be considered bullying, which is typically unacceptable in schools (Eisenberg et al., 2022). The initiatives outlined above could help students experience belonging and aid efforts to recruit and retain music teachers from diverse backgrounds (see Confredo et al., 2023).
For future research, scholars might continue exploring marginalization and microaggressions using methods that center participant voices. Examining the various forms of microaggressions experienced by PSMTs across minoritized backgrounds could help mitigate harm in the field. Examining music teacher education-specific policies related to microaggressions and other facets of discrimination would clarify how microaggressions and macroaggressions (institutional-level aggressions) are addressed. Furthermore, examining recent legislation and policies (e.g., trans bans in course content; Whitford, 2025) could elucidate micro- and macroaggressions. Large-scale survey studies would provide additional insights from a broader sample of participants.
Conclusion
Many people encounter microaggressions in their daily lives. To humanize and promote socially just practices, MTEs and PSMTs should be mindful of microaggressions and interactions with others. As Sue and Spanierman (2020) offered, “As long as microaggressions remain hidden, invisible, unspoken, and excused as innocent slights with minimal harm, we will continue to insult, demean, alienate, and oppress members of marginalized groups” (p. 29). Without awareness of microaggressions and efforts to disrupt them, music educators may inadvertently cause harm to students in music spaces.
Footnotes
Appendix
Ethical Considerations
This study was approved by the Institutional Review Board at the University of North Texas. Participants provided written consent to participate in the study.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.