Rhoda Bernard, Ed.D.

The other day, I was an extra in a film project. My husband has a speaking role, and someone I used to work with is the Director of Photography. Being an extra was a lot of fun, for a few reasons. First, the people working on this project are all very nice, and I got to hang out with them for 12 hours and chat between takes. Also, it was a very nice day and we were filming outside. The work that I had to do was not at all strenuous (filling in the background during a “reception” scene). I got to watch some very savvy and professional technical folks at work, first and foremost the DP, who is incredible at his job. But perhaps the most fun part of the experience, and the thing that I found most refreshing, was that I wasn’t in charge. I didn’t have to make any important decisions. I wasn’t at the center of any high stakes discussions. I just had to show up and do what I was told. I could put myself into the other folks’ hands and go along for the ride.

In most of what I do, I am the boss. I run the show. I make the decisions, and I have the responsibility as to whether something succeeds or fails. While I enjoy the autonomy and the decisionmaking power that come with being the boss and leading, there is something wonderful about not being in this role all of the time. Going along for the ride, like I did as an extra, is not something I regularly do in my life.

Now, of course, being someone who is accustomed to being in charge can make it difficult to cede control. I can find myself noting the ways that I would do things differently if I were in charge. The different decisions I would make, the different systems I would use, the different ways that things would be organized, etc. It’s very easy to be an armchair quarterback in such situations. But if I put myself fully into the role and let those in charge take control, I can let go in a very refreshing way.

It’s kind of like when I go to get a massage (which I do at least once a month). While I do have preferences (ticklish feet that should be avoided, a back injury that should be highlighted, and an area of tension that needs extra work), once the massage begins, I am quite literally in someone else’s hands. I might have feedback along the way (responses to the pressure, etc.), but the actual massage is up to somebody else. Somebody else is doing the work of the massage. Somebody else is managing the time. Somebody else is making the decisions about what to massage, when, and how. This adds other layers to the therapeutic aspects of the massage experience for me.

In many areas of my life, I simply am in charge, and I can’t step out of that role. This is particularly true in my job. But when I can step back and cede some control in other areas of my life, I need to encourage myself to do so. Letting somebody else worry about the big decisions, the organization, the systems, the operations, etc. can be therapeutic and very healthy, when it is appropriate. Even if I might do things differently.

Recently, I had lunch with a new friend who has moved to Boston from Canada to take a position teaching in the Music Education Program at nearby Boston University. He was dismayed and confused by the fact that music education in Massachusetts appears to be uneven – some school districts have outstanding programs, some districts have no program at all, and a lot of districts have a situation somewhere in the middle. He wanted to know what accounts for these differences.

From my perspective, there are several factors at play:

a. Proposition 2 1/2 – The passage of Proposition 2 1/2, which sets a 2.5% cap for annual property tax increases, plays a prominent role in the state of music education in the Commonwealth. Communities that have difficulty balancing their budgets (which, these days, is most communities, unfortunately) end up having to make very difficult choices and cuts OR trying to pass an override to Proposition 2 1/2 so that they can increase property taxes by more then 2.5%. Overrides are very, very difficult to pass. Just earlier this week, residents in Belmont, a community with a very strong music program, voted against an override of Proposition 2 1/2. They are bracing for cuts in schools and town services.

I was an entering high school freshman the year that Proposition 2 1/2 passed. We lost the school bus (even though I lived more than a mile from the school), much of our sports program, and a couple of music teachers in the district (to name just a few of the immediate repercussions). Music programs across the Commonwealth have fallen victim to cuts because of Proposition 2 1/2.

b. Economies of Scale Issues – In Massachusetts, most school districts are drawn on town lines. Each town is its own school district. (There are some exceptions, particularly where two towns will share a high school, like Concord-Carlisle, and some regional school districts, like Hamilton-Wenham, and the larger Gateway Regional School district, which serves the towns of Huntington, Russell, Blandford, Chester, Worthington, Montgomery, and Middlefield.) This means that each town must have a central office to perform all of the administrative and support functions for the town’s school district.

In Maryland (like many other states), school districts are county based (the well known Montgomery County School District is an example). This means that only one central office is needed for the entire county.

It is expensive and inefficient for virtually each town in Massachusetts to support a central school district office. Why does it take place? See c. below.

c. The Tension Between Centralization and Local Control – As I discuss with my students every summer, one of the ongoing tensions throughout the history of public school education in the U.S. (as well as throughout the history of other areas in U.S. life) lies between centralization and local control. In education, there have been generations of battles between those who wish for centralized education – national curriculum, larger school districts, etc. – and those who desire local control of education – school districts based on towns, each district determining curriculum decisions, etc. Right now, we have a mishmash of both of these forces at play. We have national educational mandates like No Child Left Behind and national educational initiatives like Race to the Top, but we have local control of the particular standards and curriculum for each subject. (Discussions about national standards and curriculum have begun, but they are in their early stages.)

Music education is affected by this tension because individual communities get to make their own decisions about what their arts/music curricula and programs should look like. There is a lack of parity among various communities as those decisions differ.

d. Site Based Management – In Massachusetts, individual principals determine the management of their schools’ budgets and resources. They are provided with guidelines and certain requirements by the central office, but the ultimate on-the-ground decisions are based with each principal. So while some arts program is required of all principals, the way that it takes shape in a particular school depends on the person in charge. A principal who values music and wants a music program will find a way to have one in his/her school. One who doesn’t, won’t.

e. Participation MMEA – I am a big fan of MENC (the national music education organization), and I am active in the Massachusetts chapter, known as MMEA (Massachusetts Music Educators Association). A great number of music educators in Massachusetts are active MMEA members, and they gain a great deal from their membership (journals, conference participation, advocacy, festival opportunities for their students, networking, and many, many more).

However, there are music educators in the state that are not active in the organization. These music educators often are isolated and lack the resources and support that MMEA can provide them, as well as the professional development that the organization offers through networking, festivals, and conferences. MMEA is actively working to increase its reach; a notable portion of its strategic plan focuses on recruiting more members and targeting those communities that are under-represented in the organization.

Bringing more music educators together would strengthen the state of music education in Massachusetts in a number of ways. I am hopeful that MMEA’s efforts in this regard will make a powerful contribution to music education.

I am a founding member of UMEC, the Urban Music Educators Coalition, a group of music educators, arts organizations, and higher education institutions that seeks to increase participation in music by students in urban school districts. We began our efforts in Boston and have worked closely with principals and other school leaders on a variety of issues (building music programs, scheduling for music programs, finding partners in the community, etc.). Through our recent affiliation in MMEA, we hope to launch chapters of UMEC in the other MMEA districts.

The kind of work that UMEC is doing is just one example of the ways that various organizations can collaborate to help to improve the state of music education. There are other initiatives at play in Massachusetts. Some involve bringing in outside arts organizations, and others involve teacher training. Those of us who care about the state of music education in Massachusetts must get involved in this work and do what we can to bring about the changes that we need.