Abstract
Professional development, typically initiated by administrators to improve student achievement outcomes, is often irrelevant to the needs of early career music teachers. As music teacher educators, we were concerned about issues of importance to early career music teachers as they entered the music teaching profession. We explored conversation as a conduit of reflection and professional learning by convening a conversation group of five early career music teachers who gathered over six, one-hour-long meetings. Guiding their discussions were topics they identified in questionnaires administered before and during the study. Data included audio-visual recordings of the meetings, questionnaires, and researcher memos. Four themes emerged from our analysis of their conversations: (a) educating administrators and mentors, (b) knowing their place, (c) overcoming a lack of resources, and (d) giving students lifelong musical skills. We interpreted these findings through the lens of Snow’s principles of symbolic interactionism. The conversation group facilitated the music teachers’ move from the initial shock of sedimented school culture to a position of agency. The freedom of conversation around chosen topics of professional and personal importance provided the early career music teachers with choice, self-direction, collective support, and agency—key components of professional learning.
Keywords
Professional development
Professional development “may be the most universal of any activity regularly undertaken by teachers” (West, 2021, p. 322). To ensure that teachers strengthen their practice throughout their careers (Mizell, 2010), professional development opportunities exist “for the maximum benefit of both teachers and students” (Desimone, 2009, p. 192). Researchers in the United States have acknowledged that common characteristics of effective professional development include (a) subject matter content, (b) active learning strategies, (c) collective participation and collaboration, (d) coaching and expert support, (e) opportunities for feedback and reflection, and (f) duration of professional development offerings (Darling-Hammond et al., 2017). These efforts are typically focused on generalist teachers and their associated content areas—targeting improved teaching methods and strategies in those fields (Mizell, 2010).
Typically initiated by administrators, and directed toward student outcomes and achievement, professional development addresses specific shared purposes or goals. Common in many schools are professional learning communities (PLCs; Gruenhagen, 2009), wherein teachers receive professional development related to improving students’ academic achievement and outcomes (Blair, 2008; Sindberg, 2016). Collaborative teacher study groups provide a forum for music teachers to discuss and reflect on their pedagogical practices with other teachers (Stanley, 2011). Professional development partnerships (Conkling & Henry, 1999, 2002) and school–university partnerships (Burton & Greher, 2007) involve music teacher educators, in-service music teachers, and preservice music teachers working together to develop pedagogical content and contextual expertise in the interest of student learning. Also common is mentoring, a means to support new teachers in the induction process (Conway, 2012, 2015; Conway & Holcomb, 2008).
Unfortunately, for music teachers in the United States, most music teacher professional development is delivered in workshops and conferences where “teachers tend to be passive recipients of information and . . . have no opportunities to actively learn from others” (Bautista et al., 2017, p. 456). These forms of professional development typically have little relevance to their professional growth and their individual and specific needs (Conway, 2015). Genuine professional learning for music teachers is often overlooked by their administration (Conway, 2015).
Professional learning
Scherff (2018) reported a shift in modes of professional development offerings from “one-time workshops, seminars, or lectures, and . . . typically a one-size-fits all approach” to professional learning that is “interactive, sustained, and customized” (para. 3). A process that leads to change, professional learning “occurs as a result of experience and increases the potential for [teachers’] improved performance and future learning” (Ambrose et al., 2010, p. 3). When teachers are engaged in professional learning, they “act purposefully and constructively to direct their [own] professional growth and contribute to the growth of their colleagues” (Calvert, 2016, p. 4), strengthening teacher efficacy and agency. “Professional learning is the key component to improving educator practice and providing new perspectives on an ever-changing profession” (Marcinek, 2015, para. 2).
In music teacher education literature, researchers have acknowledged limitations of professional development wherein many music teachers are left with a continued sense of isolation, experience a lack of valuable mentorship, and receive little administrative support (Bell-Robertson, 2015; Conway, 2015; Krueger, 2003; Sindberg, 2011; Sindberg & Lipscomb, 2005). These conditions lead to a low rate of job satisfaction, and in turn, burnout and attrition.
Conway (2003, 2007) suggested that informal interactions with other music teachers may be the most powerful form of professional learning and development for early career music teachers. Other researchers have come to a similar conclusion, articulating that music teachers should be provided with opportunities to engage in informal conversation and collegial interactions that are unique to their circumstances (Bell-Robertson, 2015; Krueger, 2003; Sindberg & Lipscomb, 2005). Conversation can provide freedom for early career and experienced music teachers to talk openly about their experiences and form collaborations—both of which are crucial for combating isolation and meeting professional and personal needs (Stanley et al., 2014).
Allowing time for informal conversation can contribute to meaningful professional learning for teachers. Conversation groups afford that opportunity. They are not imposed upon teachers; rather, teachers join by choice (Kitchen et al., 2008; Rust & Orland, 2001), meeting on a regularly scheduled basis. Through the informal talk of everyday life (Pomerantz & Fehr, 1997), teachers engage in open dialogue, share their personal stories, and express themselves from a place of agency (Hall, 1972). For teachers, conversing with peers provides a backdrop for their personal and professional well-being, self-efficacy, and a sense of belonging (Clark, 2001; Kitchen et al., 2008; Schlecty, 1984). An atmosphere of safety, trust, and care sets the context for meetings that occur on neutral, common ground; this type of conversation “cannot be forced . . . [it is] jointly constructed, improvisational, and personally revealing” (Clark, 2001, p. 181).
Research purpose and questions
As music teacher educators, one having experience teaching instrumental music teacher education courses and the other teaching early childhood and general music education courses, we teach and mentor both undergraduate and graduate students. We maintain contact with alumni, often providing professional learning opportunities, informally meeting at conferences, or catching up over coffee. Through our informal conversations, we learned of many former students’ struggles and frustrations as they adjusted to their new roles as music teachers, navigating the now unfamiliar landscape of “school.” Reflecting on these conversations, we noticed trends across our various interactions. Exploring novice music teachers’ entrance into the music education profession may reveal ways to support them at a critical point in their careers.
Seeking a deeper understanding of the transition from student to professional—“the actor’s definitions of the situation” (Schwandt, 2000, p. 102)—we formed a conversation group, where five early career music teachers were provided opportunities to discuss topics that were of importance to them. We desired to learn (a) how early career music teachers describe their entry to the music education profession; (b) the topics they consider to be important for discussion with their peers; (c) the individual and collective meanings they made through conversation; and (d) the function of “school” as a socially representative structure.
Theoretical framework
Conversation is a primary form of communication and can lead to a greater understanding of how meaning is construed; it has been noted to foster the self-directed professional learning of music teachers (Bell-Robertson, 2015; Krueger, 2003; Sindberg & Lipscomb, 2005; Stanley et al., 2014). In symbolic interactionism, language is a primary form of communication and conversation is an essential mode of delivery (Burr, 1995; Fernback, 2019). Both language and conversation are fundamental to interpreting the individual and shared meanings held or constructed by, in this case, novice music teachers. For these reasons, we chose symbolic interactionism as the theoretical framework.
Symbolic interactionism is a theoretical framework concerned with how humans make meaning as they construct their social worlds through lived and shared experiences (see, for example, Blumer, 1969; Casino & Thien, 2020; Goffman, 1959; Snow, 2001). Through personal action, interactions with others, and experiences in varied contexts and environments, these meanings are reflected as symbols—symbols that are culturally derived and constitute social reality. Once assimilated into society, symbolic interactions frequently reinforce existing social structures, such as educational institutions.
Free, spontaneous conversation provides opportunities to interact in a way one would not otherwise. Conversation, as a socially communicative medium, has potential to facilitate the discovery of music teachers’ symbolic and shared meanings, supporting their professional learning as they discuss topics of relevance and importance to them. Through discourse, early career music teachers can share the construction of their worlds as they enter a profession that exists within an institution known as “school.”
Underpinning the symbolic interactionist framework is the understanding that “reality is an interpreted experience and not objectively verifiable” (Allsup, 2014, p. 59). Furthermore, realities are shaped and conveyed through social constructions of language and shared meaning (Wood & Haines, 2023). Sensemaking of novice music teachers’ individual and collective realities of school music could open a space for interpretation of their conversations and provide a more in-depth understanding of their entry to the professional world of school.
Methodology
In the context of social interactionism, where “the overall purpose is to understand how people make sense of their lives and their experiences” (Merriam, 2002, p. 38), we followed a basic, interpretive, qualitative design (Creswell, 2013; Merriam, 2009; Merriam & Tisdell, 2016) to guide our inquiry.
Participants
Upon receiving human subjects approval from our institution, five recent graduates of our music teacher preparation program consented to participate in the study. We invited teachers whose primary responsibilities varied among typical US music teacher assignments in choral, general, and instrumental music. The participants had three or fewer years of teaching experience and ranged from 23 to 28 years of age (see Table 1).
Participant Background and Context.
B.M.: Bachelor of Music; M.M.: Master of Music degree.
Carly received a bachelor’s degree in instrumental music education and went directly to graduate school for music teaching. She was a teaching assistant with a cognate in early childhood and general music. After graduating, Carly was hired as a K-5 elementary general music teacher in an upper-class suburban public school.
As a first-year teacher, Brian’s assignment was a K-5 general music class in a middle-class, suburban public elementary school. Although he received a bachelor’s degree in instrumental music education, jobs in this field were sparse. Both Carly and Brian each taught over 500 students per week, provided math and reading support, and participated in professional development activities as required by their schools.
Kennedy earned a bachelor’s degree in choral and general music. She taught in a mid-sized, middle-class, suburban public high school. As a second-year teacher, her schedule was filled with choir and keyboard classes with little time for planning. Eventually, keyboard classes became the majority of her teaching load with few classes dedicated to her passion—choir.
Michael was a first-year teacher with a bachelor’s degree in instrumental music education. As with Brian, Michael found few open instrumental music positions in his quest for a job. Although he desired to teach in a public school, he was hired at an affluent private school for boys to teach band, jazz ensemble, and music technology.
Of the group, Tom had the most experience in the field, having taught for nearly 3 years. He held a bachelor’s degree in instrumental music education. Tom taught both band and general music at a rural, low-income, multilingual public high school. His program was often in peril due to students being pulled from class for standardized testing in math and language arts.
Setting
The five early career teachers met at our university once per week for six, approximately one-hour-long meetings. Meetings were held in a conference room with soft lighting, a large table, and comfortable chairs. We provided refreshments, fostering a sociable setting to engender informal and relaxed conversation. During each meeting, conversation began as soon as the teachers entered the room. Although the music teachers understood the meetings to be an hour in length, all six meetings lasted longer than an hour. They were so absorbed in conversation that we had to interrupt them to signal that an hour had passed. The music teachers were full participants in the meetings with no one person dominating the conversation. Although the music teachers were familiar with us, they seemed unconcerned about our presence and spoke frankly. When they had differing viewpoints, they expressed their opinions respectfully and in good humor.
Data collection
We collected several sources of data including (a) audio–visual documentation of the six in-person meetings, (b) questionnaires eliciting conversation topic preferences, and (c) researcher memos to document our impressions and reflections on the music teachers’ conversations.
The entirety of each meeting was recorded on an iPad and saved to a password-protected hard drive. Transcriptions of the recordings were the primary source of data. We also distributed online questionnaires at three points. Prior to the first meeting, we asked for demographic information and requested six topics the music teachers wanted to discuss. From their 30 suggestions, and after accounting for duplicates, we found 14 areas of common interest as “conversation starters.”
The music teachers rank-ordered their choices, though at the first and second meetings, they diverged from the topics they had originally chosen: curriculum and musicality. After introducing themselves in the first meeting and sharing their teaching contexts, they discussed mentoring for the remainder of the first meeting. At the second meeting, they continued describing their teaching contexts and discussed scheduling. In a second questionnaire shared before the third meeting, we asked them to rank-order their original 14 topics (see Figure 1). They chose to discuss technology in the third meeting, resources in the fourth, and curriculum in the fifth. Preceding the sixth meeting, we requested that they rank-order those topics not yet discussed; they chose musicianship for the final meeting.
Discussion Topics Suggested by Teachers.
As researchers, we were mindful of our “insider perspectives,” roles as facilitators, and instruments of data collection and interpretation. From the outset, we strove to attenuate subjectivity (Patton, 2015), and allow their dialogue to arise organically. Refraining from contributing to the music teachers’ conversations, we wanted their voices to be heard without imposition.
At the conclusion of the study, we sent the music teachers a brief survey requesting feedback on their participation in the conversation group. They agreed that they would consider participating in another conversation group in the future, though the sentiment was that six meetings served their immediate needs.
Data analysis
Addressing our research questions, we pored over the data independently. We open-coded transcriptions from within the group and across participants, drew comparisons, noted deviations from the conversation topics, and consulted our researcher memos. Video recordings were used for clarification and confirmation of our analyses.
Over three meetings, each several hours long, we compared, contrasted, questioned, and debated the codes and categories that originated from our individual analyses. We came to an agreed upon interpretation of the data (Saldaña, 2016) and the themes that arose from the early career music teachers’ conversation. We confirmed our findings with each teacher who agreed that our themes and interpretation represented the substance of the conversations.
Findings
Four themes emerged from our analysis: (a) educating administrators and mentors; (b) fitting in, knowing their place, and building connections in their school communities; (c) overcoming a deficiency of resources such as time, appropriate classroom space, and access to and support for technology; and (d) striving to give students lifelong musical skills.
Educating administrators and mentors
The music teachers were unprepared for the lack of understanding on the part of administrators and mentors regarding the scope and sequence of their music programs. Their administrators were unaware of national standards for visual and performing arts, nor were they familiar with musical concepts and skills, or pedagogical practice. They discussed how administrators unsuccessfully attempted to pigeon-hole instructional strategies from other subjects into the music classroom. In addition, they each described taking on the responsibility to educate them and their mentors, albeit with sensitivity.
Carly shared a story about educating her assistant principal and mentor, both of whom had little formal experience with music, about music terminology and skills. “Both times they left the classroom and they were like, ‘I learned what meter was, or I learned about dynamics.’ They said they didn’t realize that there were like . . . there was terminology that the students were learning.” Carly recalled her principal saying, “Those children [as she pointed to several students] weren’t keeping the beat.” Carly responded, “Oh, yes. I saw that.” Her principal replied, “They should probably go to the side and shouldn’t be allowed to touch the instruments until they can show it the way you want.” To which, Carly said, “Well, developmentally, some of them aren’t able to keep the beat yet. This is our first time using the instruments.”
Kennedy mentioned the role of “essential questions” and administrators’ misconceptions of music teaching and learning in light of general education practice. “That’s been something I’ve really kind of wrestled with this year, like balancing what they [administrators] would like us to be doing in our classroom and what I would like to be accomplishing and trying to make them work together.” Carly concurred: I think that was another hard thing when you look at these [essential questions]. You have to have your essential question. Okay, well I’ve got four essential questions in this one lesson. My mentor actually said, “Well, you should really just choose one that you’re focusing on.” I’m like, “But to me they all go hand-in-hand.”
Frustrated with his administration’s expectations of curricular outcomes, Michael wanted them to understand that his instruction should focus “less on the final product performance and more on the process to get there.” Michael expressed his concern about “how to not feed [students] just facts, but how to teach them actual things they can take with them—past when they leave the class.”
Knowing their place
Striving to establish relationships with colleagues in their respective schools, the music teachers grappled with navigating the many varied and complex roles of the persons with whom they interacted. Kennedy reflected, “I think that you have to walk that fine line between a new person who is being a self-advocate, but also a new person who knows their place.” Carly acknowledged: I think as a first-year teacher you wanna become friends with everyone, so that you have them on your good side. Building those connections in your first year I think has been super important. Then also kind of learning the different personalities and who you can depend on and who maybe you should stay away from and different things like that, so just working with people.
Kennedy questioned how to “make what we do seem relevant to other teachers in our building?” She continued, “How do we, other than putting on an entertaining show for them, if they go, how do we show them, ‘Look at what we’re doing? Look how cool this is!’ or ‘Look how much they’re [students] learning?’” Tom retorted, “You have to play the game. You have to know who’s standing where, ‘cause I have a couple core class teachers that are very adamant that, ‘why wouldn’t they be studying for a test rather than playing their instruments?’”
Carly spoke about making a concerted effort to connect with her co-workers, noting that some grade-level teams were more welcoming and supportive than others. With more difficult teams, Carly was determined and “made it a point to try and make more connections with them outside of the school day and just offer to do more things.” Kennedy reinforced Tom’s point: I also think there’s this delicate game to play where you have to convey, “I understand that I’m still learning and this is a whole new process for me, but I might actually know what I’m talking about” and not to seem imposing or like a know-it-all or anything.
As the music teachers were nodding their heads in agreement, Carly summed up their sentiments: “As a new teacher, you have to walk on eggshells and be careful not to burn bridges.”
Resources
The early career music teachers discussed time, access to, and support for instructional materials, and sufficient classroom space as resources necessary to perform their jobs well. They described tensions of inequity with their general education colleagues about access to these resources. Michael encountered a challenge with his administration and lack of communication about his instructional needs: The administration, they’re frustrating. We have a principal and an assistant principal. The first person you ask says, “I need to talk to the other [one]. We’ll get back to you.” You hear two days later. . . . There’s a lot of pushing it around and you never got [sic] a concrete answer for the longest time.
Time
Threaded throughout the music teachers’ conversations was the notion of time juxtaposed with concern. They desired to teach music with excellence but felt stymied with the lack of instructional time they were allotted. Kennedy worried about accomplishing musical objectives: How are you going to make music the focus, and how are you gonna . . . take your students from point A to point B and see how they grow with the music? That you can’t teach with the amount of time that you see them? I don’t know if there’s [sic] other ways of looking at it.
When discussing the limited amount of time afforded to instruction, concerns also arose about developing rapport with students.
The music teachers found themselves striving to find a healthy balance between work and home life; achieving this sense of stability was an elusive endeavor, as validated by Tom: Somebody will say, “Oh, you can just write it [a musical arrangement] down for the kids.” I’m like okay, I’m a decent arranger, and I can transcribe pretty well, but that’s been like—that’s so much time. It’s not that I don’t wanna spend the extra time on the students. It’s that once I get done [with] everything that needs to be done for tomorrow, whether it’s planning, photocopies, whatever, then if I have extra time maybe I can get around to spending a couple hours a night trying to arrange this.
Returning to the discussion about the school day, Kennedy observed, “Everybody is eating on the fly. Everybody’s schedules don’t align. Everybody just does what they need to do.” She explained, “I’m finding for me, it’s like you really just figure out how to get it done.” Carly sighed, and said, “It seems that there’s just hardly enough time to do what we need to do. I feel like people have resorted to, ‘Am I surviving?’”
Access and support
The music teachers attempted to be politically savvy in their interactions with their administrators. Yet, they were perplexed on how to approach them with questions, concerns, or needs. They felt their administrators were indifferent toward music education and gave general educators preferential treatment, whereas music teachers had a lack of funding and experienced inadequate professional development. For example, Michael was recruited to his school with the understanding that he would implement technology in his music classes. He added to the conversation, “I feel like we’re a school that says, ‘Hey, we have iPads. We have technology. Come on and join our team.’” “It’s really, ‘Here’s an iPad, but we’re not really gonna give you the training . . .’” He reported that he had had little professional support from his administration for their use.
Classroom space
Another concern the teachers identified was lack of classroom space. Brian described how he had no classroom in which to teach his K-5 elementary general music classes and was relegated to teaching in the gymnasium: I teach on the stage. It’s the stage and then the gym . . . They use the stage for assemblies and stuff . . . There’s been two or three times where I walk in—the doors are open, all my shelves that line the wall are all just pushed apart right in the middle of the room. It takes 25, 30 minutes to set it up! If you’re not planning that time, you don’t have that time before class. You’ve already got kids there and you don’t have a classroom [prepared] to go.
The music teachers were disheartened that their instructional needs were met with a laissez-faire attitude or went unnoticed. They desired to be professionals, performing to the best of their abilities as they maneuvered through the inner workings of school, to meet the expectations of their administrators and colleagues, whether real or perceived.
Musicianship
Kennedy began the conversation at the final meeting. She noted that they had discussions “week after week, [about] everything else that comes with education” and the group had yet to address musicianship. She “was kind of interested in what everyone interpreted that as . . . How are you going to make music the focus?” Once again, the sobering question of making music the focus. They became all the more cognizant of the degree to which music teaching and learning were subordinate to subject matter in other disciplines.
Michael described a challenge with his performing ensembles, “[I’m] trying to focus on their [students’] actual musicianship, rather than just learning . . . how to sing or how to play this song, so you can do it for the concert. Actually teaching concepts, rather than just throwing music onto the stage.”
Tom concurred, “I would like the opposite to be true in ensemble classes where it’s less on the final product performance and more on the process to get there.”
Tom recounted a time when his students shared sheet music with him to show what they listen to, want to play, and how they “figured out music on their own without a teacher telling you, ‘Okay, press this button now to play this.’ They’re thinking it out, and they—I feel like that almost shows more than them being able to play the band’s concert music, that they’ve achieved . . . that level of musicianship.”
“I think the same thing’s true in any general music class,” Brian added. In concordance with Brian and Tom, the teachers desired, as Tom stated, to provide their students with “practical skills, so that when you leave my class, when you leave this high school, whether it’s five years from now, ten years from now, 20 years from now, you can interact with music, whether it’s on guitar, whether it’s on trumpet.”
The music teachers’ conversations revealed common, shared experiences through their various interactions with administrators and colleagues. Six meetings provided a forum for grappling with issues that were important to them, without fear of retribution. In this context, they were active participants in their professional learning as they made meaning of their individual experiences and found common ground through the conversation group.
Interpretation
For a greater understanding of how the early career music teachers’ individual and shared experiences were shaped, we re-examined our findings “to see the parts separately and how they relate to each other” (Stake, 1995, p. 72). We returned to the theoretical framework of symbolic interactionism to guide the interpretation of our findings.
Interpretation involves going beyond the descriptive data. Interpretation means attaching significance to what was found, making sense of findings, offering explanations, drawing conclusions, extrapolating lessons, making inferences, considering meanings, and otherwise imposing order on an unruly but surely patterned world. (Patton, 2015, p. 570)
Snow (2001) expanded symbolic interactionism upon Blumer’s well-known theory, emphasizing the importance of “social structure and culture” and suggesting four “more inclusive orienting principles that Blumer’s conceptualization implies but does not fully articulate” (p. 368). The four cornerstone principles of (a) symbolization, (b) interactive determination, (c) emergence, and (d) human agency get to the root of how people perceive, interpret, understand, and act upon the world. These principles focused the interpretation of our findings.
Symbolization refers to the ways in which symbols assume particular, situation-relevant meanings, often routinized or taken for granted. Like clastic sedimentary rock, where particles settle, compress, and become cemented together (United States Geological Survey, n.d.), these sedimented meanings emanate from institutions (e.g., places of worship or schools); people (e.g., clergy or administrators); actions (e.g., rituals or habits); and/or events (e.g., a Fourth of July celebration) that symbolize culture, organizational structures, and social systems (Snow, 2001).
Immersed in formal educational settings first as PK-12 students then as preservice music teachers, the novice music teachers learned through their conversations that the traditional institutional structure of “school” that was once familiar was no longer. A new, shared perspective arose as they realized the sedimented nature of school, as experienced from the “other side,” to be common across their teaching contexts: inadequate induction to the profession, lack of curricular understanding from administrators and colleagues, insufficient professional support for new initiatives, and the overarching symbolization of music education as a profession of second-class citizens. They eagerly began their jobs, not anticipating the new reality of the sedimented culture of their schools.
Interactive determination occurs as human beings make meanings through complex systems of interaction with other humans. Here, society and self intersect: they are entwined “whether actual, virtual, or imagined” (Snow, 2001, p. 369). These web-like interactions shape a person’s view of self, construction of their identity, and roles they play.
Desiring to establish their identities as valued members of school society, the music teachers recalled difficult interactions with their administrators and colleagues. They sought to develop professional relationships but were apprehensive about challenging the status quo. They talked about the complexities of their sedimented school cultures, their attempts and determination to learn about and work with their colleagues and administrators. They also held fast to their own high expectations and professionalism.
Emergence is the process of examining and interpreting one’s social life in the liminal space of potential for change, characterized by “departures from, challenges to, and clarifications or transformations of everyday routines, practices, or perspectives” (Snow, 2001, p. 372). Emergence is spurred on by reflection and resultant re-interpretation within one’s own sphere or interactions with others. Conversation can facilitate emergence from the sedimentation that binds and blinds.
Conversation propelled the music teachers’ reflections as a collective awareness of their “proper place” and disappointingly low status as early career music teachers surfaced. They yearned for music to be acknowledged as vital to a comprehensive and holistic education for their students with a rightful place in the curriculum. At various points in their conversations the responsibility to influence change and advocate for themselves, their students, and their programs became clear.
Human agency describes an individual’s capacity to willfully control one’s goals, actions, and destiny. In response to disrupted routines and contradictory experiences, Snow (2001) wrote that “when a group’s treatment and opportunities are seen as injustices, [then] the issue of agency likely springs to the foreground as individuals attend to some kind of corrective or remedial action” (p. 374).
Common experiences with administrators and colleagues led the way toward strategies for change. A growing sense of empowerment and readiness to take steps of positive action became apparent as evidenced through the early career music teachers’ weekly exchanges. Establishing the importance and relevance of music education and actively building connections and relationships within their school communities were clear priorities.
Discussion
Interpreting the early career music teachers’ conversations through Snow’s (2001) four principles of symbolic interactionism gave us deeper insight into their discourse. They shared their experiences, viewpoints, concerns, and feelings about topics of interest (Clark, 2001), seeking to make sense of their place in the complex world of school (Gurteen, 2021).
Facilitating the development of essential social relationships and a sense of belonging, the social interactions of the conversation group legitimized each of the music teacher’s contributions (Kelchtermans, 2017).
By differentiating external professional development (content-driven, typically designed to improve student learning) from internal professional learning (concentrated on teachers’ personal and professional growth), the conversation group neither replaced nor supplanted the professional development content teachers learn over the course of their careers. Instead, conversation catalyzed reflection (Stanley et al., 2014) and was an informal, authentic option for music teachers’ professional learning (Conway, 2003, 2007).
Participation in the conversation group fueled the early career music teachers’ personal and professional identity growth (Ballantyne & Zhukov, 2017), demonstrated by a “deepening of meaning and a broadening of understandings” (Rust & Orland, 2001, p. 113). As they discovered experiences they shared and commonalities across their institutions, they realized their potential to influence change (Powell, 2019; Snow, 2001). The capacity for the early career music teachers to direct their professional learning on their own terms was evident (Bell-Robertson, 2015; Krueger, 2003; Sindberg & Lipscomb, 2005).
Recommendations for future research
There is more to learn about the efficacy of music teacher conversation groups for meaningful professional learning. Questions to consider for future research are:
What do conversation groups tell us about the meanings held and shared by music teachers grouped in homogeneous or heterogeneous cohorts, perhaps centered around music education specializations, years of experience, or school context?
Do conversation groups have an effect on music teacher isolation, burnout, and attrition? Are they a viable means to support the transition from preservice to novice music teacher?
What can be learned from conversations among PK-12 music teachers, music teacher educators, and preservice music teachers? Do they reveal implications for pedagogy and practice?
Because we knew the participants in this conversation group, we wonder:
Would conversation outcomes differ based on level of familiarity between facilitators and group members?
Conclusion
The early career music teachers navigated a landscape of relationships with their administrators, mentors, and colleagues, finding their way through the labyrinth of school music. They were diplomatic and savvy, cautious not to challenge administrators’ authority nor jeopardize relationships with colleagues. In their conversations, they grappled with reaching out for help and acquiring adequate resources. They expressed concern for developing their students’ musicianship. Through their interactions in the conversation group, the early career music teachers emerged as agents of their own professional learning.
Footnotes
Author contribution(s)
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: The authors received a University of Delaware Center for Secondary Education Grant to support the research for this article.
Author biographies
References
Supplementary Material
Please find the following supplemental material available below.
For Open Access articles published under a Creative Commons License, all supplemental material carries the same license as the article it is associated with.
For non-Open Access articles published, all supplemental material carries a non-exclusive license, and permission requests for re-use of supplemental material or any part of supplemental material shall be sent directly to the copyright owner as specified in the copyright notice associated with the article.
