Though music is an excellent avenue for the exploration of reciprocal classroom control, there are some important contingencies that may disrupt this structure. Highly-organized socio-political institutions such as schools and prisons often rely on public perception and support to direct their management. Even in classrooms where teachers and students share control of the curriculum and activities, administrative and public pressure to present certain achievements can lead to a hierarchical over-taking of the classroom. If the course is ultimately managed by supervisors and persons not directly involved in the classroom, both the teachers’ and the students’ agency is undermined. They are alienated from their own class. In schools, this can be exemplified by general district and national standard requirements which inhibit and regulate class events, whether by mandated lesson plans based on behavioral rather than experiential objectives (as one author personally experienced teaching in a NJ high school) or by dictating types of music performed and at which venues.
In these cases, the classroom becomes a political tool to fulfill district/federal requirements or showcase the “success” of the classroom according to outside standards. The same can happen in the prison environment, already shown to be strikingly similar to the school institution. In Harbert’s 2010 story of musical “freedom” and “transcendence” at Louisiana State Penitentiary, it is significant to note that at John Henry Taylor, Jr. (a once-prominent singer in the prison) stopped performing and directing gospel groups when they became a showpiece for the administration. Local concerts were frequently given and publicized as “proof” of the prison’s humanity and edification of prisoners. Thus, the control of self-expression previously afforded the prisoners was usurped by administrators that used it as means to their own ends. Other prisoners began engaging in prison music as a way to gain favor and recognition. Taylor felt that “instead of being in the music, the fact that people were potentially strategizing in relation to the institution made musical practice part of being in the prison” (73). When schools use concerts to display administrative rather than student success, both students and teachers are stripped of musical ownership, feel disenfranchised, and like Taylor may give up their participation.
Even if students and teachers are not disenfranchised and work successfully with reciprocal classroom control, one must also confront the fact that in most schools, music class takes up a very small portion of the day’s or week’s activities. If the school at large is run with fear-based control, the influence of the music class that meets for 45 minutes once per week may be understandably small. That is not to say that it is an unimportant or unworthy ideal; even a small amount of space and time for students to exercise their creativity and positive power in the classroom can be beneficial in developing students’ sense of agency, self-worth, and identity, possibly transferring to other aspects of their lives. However, if reciprocal classroom control is not pervasive throughout the school community, its potential effects are necessarily diminished.
In these cases, the classroom becomes a political tool to fulfill district/federal requirements or showcase the “success” of the classroom according to outside standards. The same can happen in the prison environment, already shown to be strikingly similar to the school institution. In Harbert’s 2010 story of musical “freedom” and “transcendence” at Louisiana State Penitentiary, it is significant to note that at John Henry Taylor, Jr. (a once-prominent singer in the prison) stopped performing and directing gospel groups when they became a showpiece for the administration. Local concerts were frequently given and publicized as “proof” of the prison’s humanity and edification of prisoners. Thus, the control of self-expression previously afforded the prisoners was usurped by administrators that used it as means to their own ends. Other prisoners began engaging in prison music as a way to gain favor and recognition. Taylor felt that “instead of being in the music, the fact that people were potentially strategizing in relation to the institution made musical practice part of being in the prison” (73). When schools use concerts to display administrative rather than student success, both students and teachers are stripped of musical ownership, feel disenfranchised, and like Taylor may give up their participation.
Even if students and teachers are not disenfranchised and work successfully with reciprocal classroom control, one must also confront the fact that in most schools, music class takes up a very small portion of the day’s or week’s activities. If the school at large is run with fear-based control, the influence of the music class that meets for 45 minutes once per week may be understandably small. That is not to say that it is an unimportant or unworthy ideal; even a small amount of space and time for students to exercise their creativity and positive power in the classroom can be beneficial in developing students’ sense of agency, self-worth, and identity, possibly transferring to other aspects of their lives. However, if reciprocal classroom control is not pervasive throughout the school community, its potential effects are necessarily diminished.