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The inclusion of musical knowledge and perspectives of a First Nation in three Ontario mainstream schools Archibald, Marian Louise 2011

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THE INCLUSION OF MUSICAL KNOWLEDGE AND PERSPECTIVES OF A FIRST NATION IN THREE ONTARIO MAINSTREAM SCHOOLS  By  Marian Louise Archibald  A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES (Curriculum Studies)  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver)  December, 2011  © Marian Louise Archibald, 2011  ABSTRACT Ministry of Education policy guidelines (e.g., 2007) call upon educators in Ontario to include cultural knowledge and perspectives of First Peoples in their school practice, and recent provincial arts curricula encourage inclusion of and instruction on music and related knowledge of Aboriginal Peoples. But mainstream music teachers commonly lack knowledge about music of Native North American cultures and culturally appropriate ways of teaching it, instead using approaches and materials that are predicated upon Western notions of music, musicianship, and instructional method (Bowman, 2007). This study, grounded theoretically in critical pedagogy (Kincheloe, 2008) and a constructivist dialogic approach to understanding (Gadamer, 2004/1975), had two purposes: (1) to construct understandings about the school teaching of music of one First Nation cultural group that were voiced by cultural practitioners from that group, and (2) to critically examine changes in teachers’ practices as they engaged with music and related knowledge following their mentoring with these practitioners. Case study method was used in a survey of five mentoring events in which First Nations mentors, most of whom were associated with the Iroquoian cultural group, shared music and related knowledge in mainstream school classrooms. Mentors communicated six clusters of interconnected values—characterized as “who we are and where we come from,” keeping knowledge alive, responsibility, relationship, respect, and “connection and wholeness”—associated with their school sharing of music and related knowledges. They suggested that teachers learn local music from a community cultural teacher and teach music in context with other cultural, historical, and place-based knowledge. The teachers found that accuracy, the importance of story and teachings, and the notion of connection, particularly connection to nature, were significant. While some teachers focused on musical ii  understandings, the teacher who interacted most with community members communicated values that more closely reflected values shared by the mentors. Openness, initiative, and continued interaction with community members promoted change in her practice and her consideration of epistemological, decolonizing, and restorative functions associated with teaching music and knowledge of a First Nation. Through personal reflective ethnography, the researcher examined changes in her own understanding as she engaged in this research.  iii  PREFACE The research presented in this dissertation was approved by The University of British Columbia, Office of Research Services, Behavioural Research Ethics Board. Certificate of Approval Number: H10-00529  iv  TABLE OF CONTENTS Abstract ............................................................................................................. ii Preface .............................................................................................................. iv Table of Contents............................................................................................... v List of Tables .................................................................................................. viii List of Figures................................................................................................... ix Acknowledgements ............................................................................................ x Chapter 1: Introduction 1.1 Questions without Answers ………………………….. ........................... 1 1.2 Music Teaching as a Colonizing Practice ............................................... 8 1.3 Examining Music Education: the Status Quo......................................... 10 1.4 A Provincial Imperative ........................................................................ 13 1.5 Goals and General Description of the Study ......................................... 15 1.6 Preliminary Research ........................................................................... 16 1.7 Research Questions ............................................................................... 20 1.8 Description of the Method .................................................................... 21 1.9 Significance of this Study .................................................................... 24 1.10 Terminology ....................................................................................... 28 Chapter 2: Literature Review ........................................................................ 33 2.1 Introduction ......................................................................................... 33 2.2 Visiting Related Fields ......................................................................... 34 2.2.1 Music Education ........................................................................... 35 2.2.2 Indigenous Ways of Knowing ....................................................... 40 2.2.3 Comparisons of Indigenous Knowledge to Western Knowledge .... 44 2.2.4 Indigenous Knowledge and Music................................................. 49 2.2.5 Music of Haudenosaunee/Iroquoian People ................................... 53 2.2.6 Music of Aboriginal Peoples in Music Education Materials........... 57 2.3 From Indigenous Knowledge to the School Music Room .................... 62 2.3.1 Specific Research Question #1 .................................................... 62 2.3.2 Specific Research Question #2 ................................................... 65 2.3.3 Specific Research Question #3 ...................................................... 67 2.3.4 Specific Research Question #4 ..................................................... 69 2.3.5 General Research Question............................................................ 71 2.4 Summary ............................................................................................... 72 Chapter 3: Methodology ................................................................................. 75 3.1 Introduction ........................................................................................... 75 3.2 Theoretical Frameworks......................................................................... 75 3.2.1 Critical .......................................................................................... 75 3.2.2 Constructivist ........................……………………………….......... 79 v  3.3 The Method .......................................................................................... 81 3.3.1 Case Study................................................................................... 81 3.3.2 Personal Reflective Ethnography................................................. 83 3.3.3 Method Summary ....................................................................... 85 3.4 Case Study Research Design and Description ........................................ 85 3.4.1 Participant Selection and Anonymity ........................................... 86 3.4.2 Case Study Sites .......................................................................... 87 3.4.3 Participants .................................................................................. 88 3.4.4 Ways of Acquiring Knowledge ................................................... 89 3.4.5 Research Schedule ....................................................................... 94 3.4.6 Analysis....................................................................................... 96 3.4.7 Validity, Ethics, Protocols, and Representation ............................ 97 3.4.8 Limits and Scope of the Study ................................................... 101 3.5 Summary ............................................................................................. 102 Chapter 4: The Mentoring at Ash Grove School ......................................... 103 4.1 Introduction ......................................................................................... 103 4.2 Jenny ................................................................................................... 105 4.3 Jim, Ann, and Gerard ........................................................................... 120 4.3.1 Jim............................................................................................. 121 4.3.2 Ann............................................................................................ 123 4.3.3 Gerard........................................................................................ 126 4.4 Ashlie ................................................................................................. 131 4.5 Summary ............................................................................................. 145 Chapter 5: The Mentoring at Linden High and Cedar Valley School......... 146 5.1 Introduction ........................................................................................ 146 5.2 Linden High School ............................................................................ 147 5.2.1 Linda .......................................................................................... 147 5.2.2 Lillian ......................................................................................... 153 5.2.3 Lindie ......................................................................................... 158 5.3 Cedar Valley School .......................................................................... 165 5.3.1 Cary ............................................................................................ 165 5.3.2 Cedar .......................................................................................... 171 5.4 Summary ............................................................................................ 181 Chapter 6: Knowledge and Values Communicated as Significant .............. 182 6.1 Introduction ......................................................................................... 182 6.2 The Mentors......................................................................................... 183 6.2.1 Reflecting on the Analysis........................................................... 183 6.2.2 Knowledge and Values................................................................ 186 6.2.3 Ways of Sharing.......................................................................... 205 6.2.4 Summary and Reflections............................................................ 208 6.3 The Teachers ....................................................................................... 215 6.3.1 Knowledge and Values................................................................ 215 6.3.2 Factors ........................................................................................ 218 6.4 Summary and Final Reflections ........................................................... 225 vi  Chapter 7: The Mentors and the Teachers................................................... 229 7.1 Introduction ........................................................................................ 229 7.2 Comparison.......................................................................................... 230 7.2.1 First Responses ........................................................................... 230 7.2.2 Reflecting on the Cases ............................................................... 234 7.2.3 Ash Grove School ....................................................................... 239 7.2.4 Linden High School .................................................................... 248 7.2.5 Cedar Valley School.................................................................... 254 7.2.6 Key Findings............................................................................... 257 7.3 Challenge and Change ......................................................................... 259 7.3.1 Challenges................................................................................... 260 7.3.2 Change........................................................................................ 271 7.4 Summary ............................................................................................ 278 Chapter 8: Conclusion................................................................................... 281 8.1 Introduction ......................................................................................... 281 8.2 Reviewing the Case Study.................................................................... 282 8.2.1 Themes, Factors, and Shadows.................................................... 282 8.2.2 Qualities of Mind ........................................................................ 286 8.2.3 Conditions Supporting Change .................................................... 289 8.3 Questioning the Question ..................................................................... 295 8.3.1 Implications ................................................................................ 309 8.4 Returning to Music Education.............................................................. 316 8.5 Closing Thoughts................................................................................. 319 Bibliography .................................................................................................. 322 Appendices..................................................................................................... 336 Appendix A Preliminary Research ............................................................. 336 Appendix B Interview Scripts and Questionnaire....................................... 344 Appendix C Letters of Application and Approval ...................................... 347 Appendix D Letters of Information and Consent ........................................ 351 Appendix E Case Study Research Schedule ............................................... 357 Appendix F The Medicine Wheel ............................................................. 358 Appendix G Participants’ First and Key Responses.................................... 359 Appendix H Knowledge Sources Questionnaire Results............................. 364  vii  LIST OF TABLES Table 3.1 Teacher Participants........................................................................... 88 Table 3.2 Mentor Participants............................................................................ 89 Table 4.1 Mentor and Teacher Participants ...................................................... 103 Table 4.2 Mentoring Program at Ash Grove .................................................... 106 Table 5.1 Mentor and Teacher Participants ...................................................... 146 Table 7.1 Focus of Each Mentoring Event ....................................................... 235 Table A.1 Preliminary Research: Method, Participants, and Number ............... 337 Table G.1 Teachers’ First and Key Responses ................................................. 359 Table G.2 Mentors’ First and Key Responses .................................................. 361  viii  LIST OF FIGURES Figure 6.1. Multiple purposes of mentoring ..................................................... 212 Figure 7.1. Key words in participants’ first responses ...................................... 234 Figure 7.2. Knowledges communicated by mentors and teacher at Ash Grove School ....................................................................................... 247 Figure 7.3. Knowledges communicated by mentors and teacher at Linden High School .................................................................................... 253 Figure 7.4. Knowledges communicated by mentor and teacher at Cedar Valley School .................................................................................... 258 Figure 8.1. Thematic knowledge clusters communicated as significant by mentors and teachers..................................................................................................... 283 Figure 8.2. Factors and Shadows influencing engagement with musical and related knowledge............................................................................................ 285 Figure F.1. The Medicine Wheel ..................................................................... 358 Figure F.2. Medicine Wheel as represented on school blackboard.................... 358 Figure H.1. Teachers’ Combined questionnaire ratings ................................... 364 Figure H.2. Teachers’ Individual questionnaire ratings ................................... 365  ix  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I acknowledge, with thanks, the support and assistance provided to me by my supervisor, Dr. Scott Goble, and the other members of my committee: Dr. Michael Marker and Dr. Anna Hoefnagels. I will be forever grateful to them, as pedagogues, for “walking” this learning journey with me. They have challenged me along the way to widen my perspectives and extend my learning, and they have helped me to clarify my thinking and consider my representation of ideas. I appreciate the expertise and guidance they have provided. I raise my hands in gratitude to artists at the Woodland Cultural Center for the cultural knowledge they have generously shared with me and to the always-helpful librarian, Virve Wiland, for her assistance during my research there. I offer recognition and appreciation to fellow student Nan Coolsma who, during our many conversations, as ethnomusicologist and music educator respectively, contributed significantly to my process of looking both inward and outward and shared with me the enjoyment of many cultural and musical events. I thank my colleague and friend Ruth Nicholson for willingly taking on the task of proofreading manuscript sections. I am grateful to the three teachers who allowed me to enter their classrooms and view their teaching worlds and kindly shared with me their learning. Finally, I offer nia:wen—thank you—to the mentors and community members who have generously shared good teachings with me and have widened my horizons.  x  CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION 1.1 Questions without Answers During the many years that I have taught elementary school music in Ontario I have included in my teaching the music of Aboriginal peoples who live in Canada and elsewhere in North America. Yet, as a non-Aboriginal person, I have increasingly experienced a variety of insecurities about this teaching. Native Studies were not part of my education as a school music teacher, and I had minimal knowledge about First Peoples in North America. I shall begin by sharing personal anecdotes that expose some of the conflicting messages that both incited and reflected these insecurities and ultimately prompted me to begin research into Indigenous musical knowledge. These brief narratives provide entry points from which several issues connected to the teaching of music of First Peoples in the mainstream school classroom in Canada can be considered.1 They also serve to situate my background, my perspectives, and my motivations to conduct this research. The first anecdote derives from an experience that I had while studying at a music education summer course focusing on the Kodály method of music instruction.2 Our class was assigned to orally teach a relatively unknown folk song that came from some part of Canada. I chose “Hani Kouni,” which I understood to be an Iroquoian song from a reserve in Quebec. I had reasoned that my choice of this song was compatible with Kodály’s definition of a folk song: It was a song of the people; the ‘composer’ was not 1  I define the “mainstream” school or classroom one that reflects prevailing educational directions as provided by the provincial Ministry of Education. All publicly funded schools in Ontario are administered by the Ministry of Education, and, for the purpose of this study, these are considered mainstream schools. 2 The Kodály music education method, based on the philosophy and teachings of Hungarian composer and music educator Zoltan Kodály, is a music teaching method that has, as its primary goal, the teaching of music literacy. In Kodály pedagogy, music is taught largely through singing; music-reading skills gradually develop in conjunction with the development of aural skills. This method has a strong focus on the use of folk songs. 1  known; it emanated from the daily life of a culture; it was part of an oral tradition; it represented music of a local region. As it turned out, Hani Kouni was not known by any other students or the instructors in the class. I taught Hani Kouni in the language that I had learned it, which I only knew to be “Iroquois.” The adult students and instructors in the course had considerable difficulty aurally learning the song, even though it was only three phrases long. Hani Kouni was the only Native song shared during this, or any of the other Kodály courses I studied in the early 1990s. Native music was not included among the “folk songs” in the repertoire or method books that I studied in these courses.3 I puzzled about whether my classmates and instructors questioned my choice of a Native song, and later wondered at my lack of awareness about the apparent but unwritten rule that North American and Canadian “folk songs” did not seem to include Native music.4 I knew little about the music, the people, or what I thought was the language that I taught that day. A few years later I discovered a strange contradiction. During the same decade that I took the Kodály courses, a long-term study was being conducted in which music curricula from across Canada were collected and analyzed and inclusion of Canadian content assessed (Shand, Bartel, & Dolloff, 1999). Ironically, music of North American Native people was classified under the category of “folk songs” (if the “composer” was not known) in this  3  E.g., Choksy, L. (1988). The Kodály method (2nd Ed.). Englewood Cliffs, NJ: PrenticeHall; Choksy, L. (1981). The Kodály context. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: PrenticeHall; Fowke, E. (1986). The Penguin book of Canadian folk songs. Toronto: Penguin. Most of the Englishand French-Canadian folk songs are rooted in the “old land” (Barbeau, in Fowke, 1986, p. 11). The Penguin folk song collection is described as containing “expressive and lyrical folk songs [that] are an important part of Canadian tradition” (Ibid., back cover). 4 Kodály revered the folk song heritage of Hungary and stressed the importance of the “mother tongue” in children’s musical learning. I reasoned, recognizing place names, the “mother tongue” of First Peoples are firmly embedded within the linguistic and cultural fabric of Canada. 2  analysis.5 I puzzled about this: Why was Native music categorized as “folk” music by music education researchers (albeit, there were few inclusions in the curricula) yet omitted in collections of Canadian folk music used by Kodály pedagogues? As a White, female, middle-class teacher, I exemplified the norms of race, gender, and socio-economic status typical of those in my profession.6 With my French, English, and Scottish heritage, I embodied, through my lineage, Canada’s “founding” nationalities, English and French. I always considered my background to be quintessentially Canadian. I have also felt, in a subconscious way I think, that identity and culture in Canada are ingrained by the Indigenous nations that preceded the arrival of my ancestors. 7 While teaching in Canadian schools, I practiced my assumption that music of Aboriginal people was a natural inclusion in the school music curriculum. In 1995 I directed my school choir in a performance at a public event intended to raise awareness of the upcoming Quebec referendum.8 The concert promoted solidarity for Canadian unity at a time when the separation of Quebec from Canada was a distinct 5  The collection of curricula gathered as a result of this study is housed in the Canadian Music Education Research Center at the University of Toronto. The study was conducted in the 1980s and 1990s by Patricia Shand and Lee Bartel, and later Lori Dolloff, of the University of Toronto. 6 White: This term is most often associated with members of dominant society as opposed to members of marginalized racial groups. “White” society denotes Canada’s historically, politically, and socially dominant group, and usually refers to people of western European origins; however, it is not exclusive to them. The two main categories of racial categorization used in Canada are White and “visible minority” referring to people of colour. 7 Kymlicka (2003), Moodley (1995), Saul (2009), and other theorists have more recently supported these intuitions. 8 The Quebec Referendum, directed by Parti Quebecois leader Jacques Parizeau, offered voters in Quebec, including First Nations and Inuit citizens, the opportunity to vote on whether Quebec should secede from Canada. A high voter turnout among Cree and Inuit in Northern Quebec, who voted almost unanimously against separation from Canada, influenced the overall outcome of the referendum. Aboriginal communities contributed to the tense debate on the hypothetical partition of Quebec. The results of the referendum, 50.58% against secession, and 49.42% for secession, narrowly prevented the separation of Quebec (Retrieved November 14, 2010 from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quebec_independence_referendum,_1995). 3  possibility. For this performance, I arranged a medley of French and English folk songs from various parts of Canada. The medley was framed with an introduction and coda based on the Iroquoian song “Hani Kouni,” with accompaniment of imitations of sounds of nature, such as a loon call. I thought this musical arrangement to be an appropriate artistic representation of a united Canada, with its musical enclosure of a natural soundscape and Indigenous music. The concert organizers later told me that members of the nearby Six Nations community had attended the concert and that they expressed delight that music representing Native people was included in the program. This was the only inclusion of Native music at the event. My arrangement was a musical representation of Canada’s two (European) founding cultural groups aurally framed by what I understood to be music of a First Nation. I never considered the irony that the folk songs also represented aspects of our history that included colonization of lands and peoples and that these songs were juxtaposed with the music of the colonized. This musical arrangement I believed, carried a notion of inclusiveness that embraced Aboriginal people. I was quite proud of it, as was the choir. Looking back on this arrangement however, I question whether it was, with its prominent Native component and nature sounds, more an expression of nostalgia; a musical portrayal not dissimilar from representations of the pure, the exotic, and the “imaginary Indian” that are described by Francis (1992). Such renderings typify the ways that First Peoples’ identities have been constructed by members of White society (King, 2005; Clarke, 2007; Dion, 2004) to suit and sustain a romantic and comforting image. Such representations neglect counter-narratives which present a contemporary portrayal of Aboriginal identities in Canada (Courtland et al, 2009). Music and music teaching carry values, and I puzzle whether my arrangement exemplified White, dominant values and nostalgia.  4  All teaching, says Kincheloe (2008a), is political. The fact that this arrangement, with its “First Nation” music, which opened and set the tone for the concert, provided a political statement that apparently was appreciated by members of a First Nation community has left me contemplating my musical rendition. I question whether some inclusion, even though done through a romanticized depiction, is better than none. The insecurities continue. At the time of the performance, I did not consider the consequences that Quebec separation would have for Aboriginal people. I also did not see the presentation of this music as a possible propagation of a stereotype. In 1999, I taught a Grade 6 history course in addition to my regular music classes. This course, with a large Native Studies component, focused on the early European “exploration” of Canada and included learning about various legacies and enactments of colonization. I noticed my students’ strong interest in discussing topics of concern to Native people, such as residential schools. They vigourously argued their cases in mock debates about land claims. One particular incident early in the school year persists in my memory. A father, whose daughter had recently enrolled at our rural school (whose faculty and student body were predominantly White), paid an unexpected visit at the end of a busy October day. He said that he was of Mi’kmaq background and had learned that I was teaching his daughter Native studies and music. He brought and shared with me a book called the “Medicine Wheel.” As he leafed through the book, he pointed out graphic representations of a circle divided into four, and pictures of plants and trees that grow in the natural environment that provide medicinal remedies. I borrowed the book for a couple of weeks, hastily looked through it, and returned it to him. I felt somewhat discomforted at the end of this meeting. Was this provoked by my lack of knowledge about the topics in the book? What did the Medicine Wheel, or natural 5  remedies, have to do with teaching history, or music? I regret now that I did not take advantage of the opportunity to learn from this parent and the book he shared with me. Instead, I relied upon authorized curriculum materials. The teachings of the Medicine Wheel were not a “learning expectation” in the history or the music course. Over the course of that year, however, two issues came to my mind. My Grade 6 history students were interested in discussing current political issues, yet such issues were not included in the music curriculum with its detached and seemingly a-political representations of First Peoples and their music. The music that I taught was disconnected from real issues and realities facing First People. Second, these songs, chants, and other music were separate from teachings and values, such as those that my student’s father considered important for me to learn. I had regarded the teachings provided by this father as secondary to those I found in curricular materials. I did go on, over the following few years, to attend First Nation “learning circles” and other cultural programs (where I learned more about the teachings of the Medicine Wheel); I wrote and then co-directed a children’s play that I entitled The Dream. The plot and characters were based on the children’s book And Still the Turtle Watched, and the play involved all the students in the Junior and Intermediate grades at our school.9 I was pleased with this production, which I considered to involve process-based and student-centered learning. The story was built upon a narrative about an ancient rock carving of a turtle, determined by archeologists to have been carved in the rock by members of a community of the Delaware people. Much of the story was recited by a storyteller along with 9  This story (MacGill-Callahan & Moser, 1996, NY: Puffin) is based on a narrative about an archeological study of an ancient carving in a rock of a turtle, a sacred symbol in Eastern Woodlands cultures. The story relates that the carving was cut out of the rock, removed from its site, ‘cleaned up’ after years of vandalizing, and re-placed in a public location. The children’s book is written by a non-Indigenous children’s author; the removal of the turtle as a sacred object is not questioned. 6  the “voice” of the turtle, a voice that provided narration about, and emotional tone related to, the degradation and colonization of the landscape and community. For me, this story conveyed important teachings: messages about the values of an Indigenous culture, environmental consciousness, and colonization. The musical play had original choreography, and we added four ethereal characters: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. Musically, a folksong montage reflected settlement and colonization around the turtle, and Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring set an emotional climate for scenes portraying environmental destruction. I chose a choral composition by Canadian composer Nancy Telfer, “The Dream,” for the main musical theme. But there were no Native songs or dances in the production. By omitting Native music, I avoided having to take responsibility for any offense that its inclusion might cause. I was unsure whether inclusion of such songs and dances would be considered inappropriate, but I also did not want such music to be undervalued or misconstrued.10 I decided to focus on creating an emotional climate through music, rather than representing the music of the Delaware or any other First Nation people. I wondered whether music of a First Nation should be performed at public educational events, especially if it was directed by a non-Native person. Although I thought the play was well received by the students and the community, one parent told me, after seeing it, about the inconvenience her family experienced when Native protesters blockaded the entrance road to their vacation home on Parry Island in Ontario. I had not anticipated that anti-Native sentiments might be aroused in conjunction with the presentation.  10  These concerns now seem particularly relevant as I recall a recent incident at a local school district’s Aboriginal education conference attended by teachers and secondary school students. Some secondary students, perhaps non-participants in the conference, made light of a drumming, singing, and dancing presentation of Native music by non-Native students, by putting their hands up to their mouths and making a typical “whooping” motion during this performance. 7  These anecdotes bring to light my personal experience with insecurities related to unanswered questions and a growing awareness of my own knowledge deficits. These and other “questions without answers” have motivated me to conduct this research. 1.2 Music Teaching as a Colonizing Practice As illustrated in these anecdotes, questions emerged for me: Did folk music include music of Aboriginal peoples? Was I “being inclusive” when I taught a “Native” song? Was the “Native” music I taught appropriate? Did knowledgeable “experts” endorse it? Who were the experts? My later participation in Aboriginal awareness programs incited some awareness of the limitations in my thinking; however, these programs still did not offer the specific direction about the inclusion and teaching of music that I was also searching for. As I developed increasing awareness of values that were taught and demonstrated in these programs, I became more alert to social issues and political conflicts. I considered whether events such as the blockading of the road to Parry Island and other current issues should be discussed in my music class. I came to question my teaching practices and to consider alternatives, but I had little direction. Before beginning this research I began to realize that my earlier teaching practice, though well intentioned, had presented Aboriginal people and music in ways that are defined by dominant groups in society but not by Aboriginal people themselves. Bradley (2006) argues that the notion of “moral superiority, intertwined with related notions of ‘aesthetic value’” continues to be ingrained in European and North American thought and is exemplified in a bias among music educators towards European art music (p. 4). Bradley holds that colonial and imperial attitudes still linger as some music educators use language that privileges certain forms of (Western) music and thus imply to their students that other forms of music have less worth. 8  Teachers’ knowledge deficits concerning Aboriginal people (Hodson, 2007), the use of dominant pedagogies and methods which do not acknowledge Indigenous values, the decontextualized and romanticized inclusion of music (such as Hani Kouni) in curricular materials (much of which is relegated to the past), and the underlying values that center around Western music (Bradley, 2006), all serve to undermine appropriate teaching and inclusion of music of Aboriginal people and sustain colonizing attitudes towards them.11 Additionally, music of Indigenous peoples is commonly categorized under the rubric of “multicultural” or “world” music education (Volk, 1998); this categorization further denies the consideration of Aboriginal people in Canada as sovereign and First Peoples (Hodson, 2007) and disconnects them as original North Americans. Simultaneously, the exclusion of these musics in school teaching, because of teacher discomfort due to lack of knowledge (Dion, in Clark, 2007) or other reasons, is commonplace. It is apparent that the teaching or sharing of music of First Peoples (or lack thereof) is problematic at many levels. Such teaching (or omission) continues to represent, misrepresent, or make invisible Aboriginal people in the Canadian musical landscape, while assumptions and practices continue unchecked and knowledge about Aboriginal cultures and people remains deficient among music educators. Indigenous scholar Linda Smith (1999) defines decolonization as a process that seeks to analyze the “complex ways in which the pursuit of knowledge is deeply embedded in the multiple layers of imperial and colonial practice” (p. 2). She emphasizes that Western knowledge has been privileged over Indigenous knowledges12 and has been used as a tool by 11  I examine the inclusion of Aboriginal music in Canadian music materials in Chapter 2. I use the term Indigenous knowledges in the plural, to accentuate the fact that these knowledges are distinct to each culture, group, and community. Western knowledge is commonly understood as knowledge “steeped in or stemming from the Greco-Roman tradition” (Merriam-Webster). 12  9  Europeans in the process of colonizing Aboriginal peoples after contact. Decolonization is a process that involves developing a more critical understanding of the underlying assumptions, motivations, and values informing various practices (Ibid., p. 20). My research came about because of unanswered questions but was propelled by complementary goals. I considered that I would set out to develop awareness of ways that music teachers might unknowingly continue colonizing practices, and to listen to and learn from those who practice and value music of a particular First Nation cultural group. Celia Haig-Brown (2008) advises that one must engage in deep and thoughtful listening and face some of the discomforts that accompany self-reflection as one seeks to integrate or appreciate new learnings and epistemologies. Through attending to both of these goals, I considered that teachers, including myself, may be better able to develop more insightful, and thus respectful, practices as they learn and share knowledge about the music and culture of a First Nation with their students. 1.3 Examining Music Education: the Status Quo Native Studies scholar Peter Kulchyski makes the critical point that Aboriginal cultures originated in places within the political boundaries of Canada (interview, in Mackenzie, 2008). These “places” are the cultural and physical homeland where music “lives” as an expression of values, beliefs, and experiences. Kulchyski points out that First Peoples do not go elsewhere, as do many Canadian immigrants, in order to locate the place of their cultural origin. Yet, I considered, the music of First Peoples is often allocated as music of “diverse cultures,” to be included in a “multicultural curriculum” if they are included at all within Canadian curriculum guidelines and materials. The music of my ancestors, European music, is centralized and prioritized due to an unconscious and racialized sense of Western  10  superiority among the music education community (Bradley, 2006). Meanwhile, songs from First Peoples’ cultures are included in commercially produced textbooks in Canada, but the pedagogies used to teach them are based on Western understandings of music.13 This contrasts with the functions of music from the perspective of those who practice music within a Native American community (Boyea, 1999b). In curricular materials, most song selections have little or no contextualization linking them with the community or culture from which they came. This aligns with Judy Iseke-Barnes’ (2009) observation (in children’s literature) that aspects of Indigenous knowledge and cultural life are “taken out of cultural context, stripped of their cultural location, and given new meanings as cultural commodities” (p. 32). Teachers using these materials teach using a few replicated songs, many of which were “collected” well in the past, continue to fix Aboriginal cultures to the past, and displace their music from its place and culture of origin.14 National music education documents in Canada exclude specific reference to, or naming of, First Peoples in Canada.15 This omission, and the Western pedagogical approach used in commercially produced materials, supports Owen’s contention that “there is a compulsion amongst mainstream culture to erase and consume the Indigenous ‘other’” (in Iseke-Barnes, 2009, p. 30).  13  See Chapter 2, section 2.2.6 for examples. For example, Iroquois Lullaby was “found” at the Kahnawake Mohawk reserve in Quebec by folksinger Alan Mills in 1955. (Lullabies. Encyclopedia of Music in Canada [online]. Retrieved June 1, 2011 from http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.com/index.cfm?PgNm=TCE&Params=U1ARTU00021 23) Since being recorded by Mills on the Smithsonian Folkways (1956) album O Canada: A history in song, it has been included in the four most prominent music text series used in Canadian schools (see Chapter 2, section 2.2.6). There is no explanation of origin or related cultural knowledge provided in these texts. 15 See Chapter 2, section 2.2.6 for further explanation. 14  11  The “status quo,” as evidenced in music education curricular materials and documents in Canada manifests a non-Indigenous perspective about the ways that this music should be taught and the purposes of such teaching. In commonly used teaching materials, Canada’s musical heritage begins with the music of Canada’s European “founding fathers” (e.g., Fowke, 1986). Music of First Peoples is allocated to the margins of Canada’s musical heritage, and it is most often used to serve the teaching of valued (i.e., Western) musical understandings. Cultural representations of a First Nation that preserve stereotyped understandings and exclude culturally relevant knowledge may promote an experience of epistemological discontinuity for Indigenous students, generally described as “epistemological violence” by Battiste (1998). As Hodson (2007) argues, these may have unsettling or severe implications for students who grow up within a particular Native cultural tradition. Non-Native curriculum writers who have a limited understanding of a cultural tradition may unknowingly be disrespectful in their writing.16 How can a music educator reconcile the disparity between the practice and pedagogy of (school) music education and values and notions relating to music and its teaching as practiced in a Native culture? How might the voices and the perspectives of members of a Native community or culture be represented in a music curriculum in Canada in a respectful way? Is it possible for music educators to develop sufficient awareness to discern when, and to some extent why, specific music of a Native community should or should not be included in a mainstream classroom? There is little research pertaining to such questions. Burton and Dunbar-Hall (2002) are among the few music educators who have addressed pedagogical and 16  Montgomery (2002) for example, suggests listening exposures to various “styles” which might include First Nations “ceremonial music” (p. 10). Among those who practice Haudenosaunee cultural traditions, ceremonial music is not to be shared outside of the Longhouse. 12  philosophical questions associated with “the contradiction between the current ways of teaching and a futurist, post-colonial pedagogy” (p. 57). They assert that the teaching of “music of diverse cultures” focuses on the global and the universal (which is defined through Western norms that marginalize distinctive characteristics of a cultural group) and not the local and particular (Ibid.). Similarly, economic historian Harold Innis states, power is asserted “by monopolizing and categorizing information and by routinely silencing local traditions that don’t fit official categories” (in Cruikshank, 2005, p. 62). Words such as monopolizing, categorizing, and silencing seem to describe the simultaneous control of Indigenous musical knowledge by non-Indigenous others and the omission of it. Perhaps some awareness of this contributed to the sense of uneasiness and insecurity that I felt as a music teacher who was not sure how to appropriately include musics of First Peoples in my practice and who knew little about them.17 As I began to explore music educators’ and Indigenous theorists’ perspectives about this teaching, I was unaware that a policy directive, at the provincial level, was coming to fruition that had direct relevance to these perspectives and issues. 1.4 A Provincial Imperative About one year after I began my studies, a provincial mandate was launched in 2007 by the Ontario Ministry of Education (OME). Its primary purpose was to “improve achievement among First Nation, Métis, and Inuit students and to close the gap between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal students in the areas of literacy and numeracy, retention of students in school, graduation rates, and advancement to postsecondary studies” (OME, 2007, 17  I occasionally use the plural “musics” to refer to diverse “musical practices” that members of one culture may participate in or that exist among many cultures. Elliott (1995) states, “Each musical practice pivots on the shared understandings and efforts of [music practitioners] of that practice” (p. 43). Music practitioners share principles and standards of practice (pp. 43-44) that differentiate these practices from other musical practices. 13  p. 5).18 The Ontario First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Education Policy Framework calls for the incorporation of Aboriginal perspectives, histories, and cultures in the Ontario school curriculum (OME, 2007, p. 6). Teachers are expected to strive to “employ instructional methods designed to enhance the learning of all First Nation, Métis, and Inuit students” (p. 12). The Policy Framework states that “the over riding issues affecting Aboriginal student achievement are a lack of awareness among teachers of the particular learning styles of Aboriginal students, and a lack of understanding . . . of First Nation, Métis, and Inuit cultures, histories, and perspectives” (p. 6). With this policy, Ontario schools would be expected to provide a more culturally responsive curriculum and pedagogy and a more culturally relevant learning environment for Aboriginal students. They would integrate “educational opportunities to significantly improve the knowledge of all students and educators in Ontario about the rich cultures and histories of First Nation, Métis, and Inuit peoples” (p. 17). The Policy Framework stipulated that First Nation, Métis, and Inuit students must “see themselves and their cultures in the curriculum and the school community” (p. 6). As a result of this policy, professional development programs would be instituted to broaden educators’ understandings about cultural knowledge, curricular inclusion, and culturally specific learning styles. Mentors from First Nation communities and Aboriginal scholars would be called upon to provide guidance to educators. I was overwhelmed with the possible implications of this policy for music educators. I had become aware of concerns associated with applying universalized mandates to local situations. Burton and Dunbar-Hall (2002) observe that, despite policy directions that call for cultural sensitivity, musical competency, and acknowledgment of cultural perspectives, learning music of a Native culture as “local and particular” may be at odds with such 18  Among Aboriginal students, school dropout rates are, on average twice as high as those for non-Aboriginal Canadians (Hodson, 2007). 14  expectations.19 This tension between the universal and the local, I expected, might emerge as a theme of investigation in my research. 1.5 Goals and General Description of the Study The overall goal of my research was to develop understandings about culturally appropriate ways in which the teaching of music and related knowledge of one cultural group might be included in school music classrooms, and in conjunction with this, to study the processes by which teachers would develop insight in order to accommodate or include these ways in their practice.20 This goal, I considered, necessitated investigating the knowledge that teachers would need in order to provide such instruction and the knowledge they would develop as they became self-aware of their own learning. I planned to dialogue with “mentors”21 from Iroquoian nations who worked with teachers in schools about the knowledge and values they considered important and to investigate the ways that teachers internalized and applied this new knowledge in their teaching practice. I would investigate the process of change among teachers as they learned and experienced music and related teachings from their mentors. I expected that this study would illuminate intersections and also incongruities that characterize the teachers’ and the mentors’ understandings about the teaching of music in schools. As I entered into this study I was influenced by preliminary 19  These are articulated in the policies of the (American) Consortium of National Arts Education Associations (Burton and Dunbar-Hall, 2002). 20 I use the term “group” here to refer to members of a group that share cultural traits and history, although members of that group may come from a number of communities in differing geographic locations. The Haudenosaunee, as a cultural group and also as a political confederacy (comprised of six Nations), are described further in Chapter 2. 21 These would be people who practiced music of their culture and taught this music and related knowledge to teachers and their classes during designated mentoring events in schools. I chose the word “mentor” for two reasons. First, as a “trusted counselor or guide” (MerriamWebster) the word mentor seemed appropriate. (Retrieved April, 13, 2011 from http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/mentor) Second, the “mentors” in this study were variously musicians, artists, and cultural teachers, several of whom had other primary occupations; this word pointed to their role in these projects. 15  research I had conducted between April 2008 and January 2009, a year after the release of the Policy Framework. I was indeed fortunate that this research “found me.” At the time of the preliminary research, I did not anticipate the present study; however, this research influenced the present study in several ways. 1.6 Preliminary Research The preliminary research came about as a result of an invitation to study mentoring projects being organized by the education department of a First Nations cultural facility in Ontario. A facilitator in the education department invited me to observe and document an upcoming project at two schools near the Woodview community, one of several Iroquoian communities in southern Ontario. She explained that Iroquoian artists, including musical artists, would be sharing their arts and cultural understandings with teachers and students for one week in the spring of 2008. She requested that I conduct research and prepare a report that included both descriptive and evaluative information about the project, asking me to “find out what worked and what didn’t work.” We determined together that I would observe classes, interview participants, and administer a questionnaire to the teachers. I developed the general research question: “How does the Woodview ArtsAlive22 project foster public school teachers’ understandings and support culturally acceptable inclusion of Iroquoian cultural knowledge in the classroom?” I studied mentoring provided by a total of thirteen artists and cultural teachers at Linden High School and Ash Grove Public School in the project and also during an additional project in the fall of 2008.23 During the spring project, eight First Nation artists led classes in a variety of artistic activities based on the theme of the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving  22 23  Woodview and ArtsAlive are pseudonyms, as are the names assigned to the two schools. These include five volunteers who assisted in drum-making classes. 16  Address.24 Seven of the artists were originally from, or then living in First Nation communities, including Woodview.25 Three artists led the fall project, which was based on the theme of the history of Woodview.26 In these two projects, members from the Woodview community provided key cultural and historical knowledge that integrated with the artistic knowledge provided by artists. Following my observation of classes, I interviewed most of the artists (mentors) and several of the teachers at both schools. (See Appendix A for a more detailed description of the preliminary research.) I collected descriptive and evaluative information from mentors and teachers about their teaching and learning and about the project organization. For the most part, they indicated that the mentoring projects had successfully met their expectations of achieving one or more of the goals that they collectively identified as being affiliated with the projects.27 Most of the teachers indicated that their understanding of Iroquoian culture had improved. However, the effectiveness of the projects in teaching cultural knowledge was rated higher by the elementary teachers than by the secondary teachers. Several artists and a few teachers 24  The Thanksgiving Address is an oral expression of core beliefs and values; it is usually recited at the opening and closing of social and ceremonial events. 25 They were singers and dancers, a leatherworker, craftsperson, a storyteller, a drum-maker, and a cultural teacher. For example, a visual artist taught various design and painting techniques to express meanings of the Thanksgiving Address at the secondary school, while craftspeople taught crafts such as wampum making and corn-husk doll making plus traditional sports at the elementary school. 26 One of the artists wrote a children’s version of a play based on one aspect of the history of Woodview; this play served as the focus for the artistic program at both schools. At the elementary school, two visual artists taught mixed media techniques to the three participating classes; students from these classes created illustrations depicting scenes from the play. These illustrations were integrated with the narrative and published as a children’s book. 27 These goals were: improving understanding about a First Nation culture, building communication between the Woodview community and the school community, supporting the teachers’ curricular inclusion of a First Nation’s cultural knowledge, fulfilling the ArtsAlive mandate of providing artistic knowledge, providing knowledge about the Woodview community and its history, and providing understanding about racial issues. 17  qualified their evaluations of the program with comments such as “it’s an ongoing process” and “this is a beginning.” The elementary teachers rated the overall effectiveness of the projects higher than the secondary teachers; similarly, the elementary teachers indicated, to a greater degree, that they now had more confidence or “comfort” about including knowledge of First Nations in their arts programs. Four secondary school teachers responded negatively about aspects of the second project. As I completed this preliminary research several questions lingered. Why did the elementary teachers evaluate these projects more positively? In what ways were the expectations of the secondary school arts teachers incongruous with the expectations of the mentors and/or the program they provided? In what ways would this mentoring impact the teachers over the longer term? While the mentors taught traditional and contemporary arts, they did so with a focus on the teaching of cultural and historical knowledge, as represented by the Thanksgiving Address and the history of this community. The preliminary research influenced the present study in a number of practical, theoretical, and methodological ways. I concluded, similar to Kanu (2005), that mentoring was an effective means of sharing cultural and other related knowledge. The face-to-face interaction provided comfort that teachers might not obtain from other forms of professional learning such as teacher workshops. I found the two schools to be ideal sites for future research since both schools’ administrators supported such mentoring events and they were located near a First Nations community. I considered that the secondary school music teacher was an ideal candidate for future research involvement, owing to her having participated in these two music-mentoring events; she seemed potentially able to offer knowledge about longer-term effects of her learning. I had recorded observations from several of her music classes during the two projects. 18  I valued the experiential and cultural knowledge I gained, thinking of these projects as opportunities for rich cultural learning. Assisting students as they made drums provided me with the physical experience of making a drum.28 I knew how difficult it was to make a drum, finding myself barely able to cut through the hide or tighten the hide lacing. I felt the emotional climate in the class as the mentors who led this class guided the students and as one began singing and drumming to support the last student finishing her drum. I experienced an atmosphere of respect in the classroom, impressed that some of these officers had traveled several hundred kilometers to volunteer in this project. These sensed understandings, recorded in my field notes and in my memory, are still vivid. This experience, in conjunction with others during these mentoring projects, contributed to my awareness, not only of cultural knowledge that mentors taught, but also of an underlying sense of significance of these mentoring events to the mentors and project organizers. The preliminary research provided a foundation of knowledge as I conceptualized the present study. My experiences while participating in the classrooms, my learning about positive and negative impressions of the participants following the mentoring, and my realization of differences in some teachers’ and mentors’ expectations or values in the second project all contributed to this foundation. I became aware of my prejudice as a researcher; what I “looked for” influenced what I “saw” and reported on. The education facilitator directed my attention to the centrality of the Woodview community and its interest in these projects which I had not taken into account as I conducted the research and analyzed data. She alerted me to the significance of relationship28  This drum-making program was conducted by members of the Ontario Provincial Police (OPP). They were all First Nations members of Aboriginal units from the OPP, several of whom are practicing musicians. Jim, the leader of the OPP group, would later lead a similar drum-making program at Ash Grove School that became one of the mentoring events included in the current study. 19  building—between Woodview, the surrounding communities, and the school—to that community. My collaboration with the education facilitator provoked me to consider my perspective while engaging in research and analysis. Practically speaking, the connections I made with mentors and teachers in the preliminary study influenced my choices of potential participants in the current study. I continued to remain in contact with a teacher at Ash Grove school; her notifying me of continuing mentoring events influenced my choice of her school and the timing for the present study. The mentoring I studied during the preliminary research was provided by First Nations artists and cultural teachers who participated in school programs within Forest School District (FSD). The music being taught in these mentoring programs was the music that the mentors had chosen for use in schools to represent their culture. These sites and types of mentoring programs were ideal for further study specific to my research relating to the teaching of music. For the current study, I planned to continue to study mentoring, particularly related to music of Iroquoian cultures, as opportunities arose in these schools, or other schools that might feature similar programs. 1.7 Research Questions My general research question was: What do school teachers need to know in order to teach music of a Haudenosaunee29 culture in culturally respectful and appropriate ways to students of diverse cultural backgrounds in mainstream schools? My specific research questions were 1. What knowledge do mentors and artists communicate as valued and significant in relation to the teaching of music of Haudenosaunee people in the mainstream classroom and in what ways do mentors share this knowledge? 2. What knowledge and 29  Haudenosaunee, spelled variously according to the language of Iroquoian nations, is the name the people give to themselves. 20  teachings do teachers communicate as valued and significant as a result of their mentoring (and other related learning experiences if applicable) and what factors have the greatest impact in terms of increasing teachers’ understanding of Haudenosaunee music and culture? 3. In what ways does the knowledge communicated as valued by Haudenosaunee mentors and artists compare to that which teachers communicate as valued and significant? 4. In what ways have aspects of a teacher’s pedagogy and practice been challenged and/or changed as a result of this mentoring (and other related learning experiences), and what are the factors that have given rise to these challenges or changes? 1.8 Description of the Method I would use case study method to study five music-mentoring events that took place at three schools in the Forest School District. I observed an extended mentoring event that took place while I was in the schools during this study, between April and June 2010, and I investigated four other events that occurred previous to this time. Among the prior events were a drum-making/song-learning program, a one-session song-dance teaching program, and the two weeklong mentoring events that took place at Linden High School during the preliminary research. All events were led by mentors of Iroquoian background. I would also use a method I call personal reflective ethnography in which I examined my own changing understandings resulting from my experiential and observational interactions over an extended period. I refer to the combined method as a case study/personal reflective ethnography. Because of the temporal and physical boundaries around case study as a method (Stake, 1995) and contentious elements related to cross-cultural study, I added the personal ethnographic component in order that I might examine my own changing understandings and possibly provide perspectives to enrich, augment, or challenge representations provided in the cases. These “different voices, different perspectives, points of 21  views, angles of vision” (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003a, p. 7) would contribute to the knowledge that I sought by asking the general research question. In the following paragraphs I discuss my use of case study and personal reflective ethnography. Using the case study process (Merriam, 1998, p. 27), I would employ observation, participant-observation, and interview with the mentors and teachers who were mutually involved in mentoring experiences, in order to examine the teaching of music and the perceptions of this teaching from their contrasting positions. I would also administer a brief questionnaire to the teachers to learn their perspectives of other sources of knowledge that influenced their learning. In this case study process, I would also investigate, when possible, the teachers’ follow-up teaching after mentoring. As a product of investigation, the case study method provided snapshots of the mentoring process and follow-up teaching, addressing the four specific research questions. My use of personal reflective ethnography was intended to serve several functions. First, it was personal. It would provide for the expression and investigation of my perspectives, interpretations, and evolving questions as I engaged in the case study and experienced other dimensions of knowledge and knowledge production. My personal reflection about the impact of these would provide an added dimension that would complement knowledge provided by the case study participants. Kisliuk (2008) stresses the importance of “self-confrontational honesty” and a focus on experience (p. 193). My personal reflections were aimed to illustrate growth, complexity, and challenges rather than become a “confessional” or self-indulgent (Titon, 2008, Kisliuk, 2008) exposé of personal learning. Kisliuk states, “The way to distinguish [between these] . . . is to ask ourselves whether an experience changed us in a way that significantly affected how we viewed, reacted to or interpreted the ethnographic material” (p. 199). I was compelled to 22  identify and examine influences that might reaffirm, further problematize, or add new dimensions to the findings. Second, the research was reflective. The “field” of ethnographic study (Rice, 2008; Cooley, Meizel, & Syed, 2008) encompasses reflection about one’s observations and experiences, which is particularly helpful when seeking to make meaning and coherence from seemingly disparate observations (Beaudry, 2008; Kisliuk, 2008). From a critical perspective it would be necessary to reflect upon my assumptions, motivations, and values. Kincheloe and McLaren (2003) similarly state, “Research in the critical tradition takes the form of selfconscious criticism—self-conscious in the sense that researchers try to become aware of the ideological imperatives and epistemological presuppositions that inform their research as well as their own subjective, intersubjective, and normative reference claims” (p. 453). Third, the research is ethnographic. Because my research would bridge the fields of education and music, it would be necessary to proceed with a framework of knowledge about music of Haudenosaunee/Iroquoian people as they shared it publicly with outsiders. Thus, I planned to attend powwows, Aboriginal music festivals, cultural conferences, local music gatherings, as well as educational conferences relating to Aboriginal education. Titon (2008) stresses the importance of circling hermeneutically between “texts” (which may take many forms, including music) and experience. My physical participation at community events provided experiences that promoted such hermeneutic traversing. “Personal,” “reflective,” and “ethnography” are terms that, used together, capture the interrelated and critical nature of my research and evoke goals associated with my personal learning that might illuminate or problematize observations in the case studies. I began this research with the belief that my use of case study complemented by personal reflective ethnography would “[add] rigor, breadth, complexity, richness, and depth” 23  (Flick, in Denzin, & Lincoln, 2003, p. 8) in this cross-disciplinary and cross-cultural inquiry. In attending to contrasting voices, I aimed to produce a quilt-like bricolage: “a piecedtogether set of representations that are fitted to the specifics of a complex situation” (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003a, p. 5). My research would use practices that are “pragmatic, strategic, and self-reflective” and that draw “from whatever fields are necessary to produce the knowledge required for a particular project” (Nelson, Treichler, & Grossman, 1992, p. 2). The use of research that creates a bricolage coheres with, and is informed by, the constructivist and critical theoretical frameworks of this study.30 1.9 Significance of this Study The need for this research is based on the premises that music of First Nations in Canada is often taught inappropriately (if at all); that music educators lack understanding of how to teach it in appropriate ways or lack the conceptual awareness to consider this; and, that change in music education practice pertaining to this is needed. There is little research on the topic of the teaching of music of First Peoples in mainstream schools in Canada and no research about the process of teacher change that might promote culturally appropriate and more socially just teaching. Given the current knowledge deficit of many teachers concerning First Peoples’ music and cultures, the knowledge provided by this research may contribute to understandings that will support positive change in music education in mainstream schools. Why is change needed? St. Denis (2007) asserts that public school teachers are unequipped to employ pedagogy and curricular practices that are culturally appropriate for Aboriginal students. Scholar Susan Dion observes that teachers are “paralyzed with fear” when it comes to teaching about Aboriginal people, both afraid of offending and afraid of challenging the official curriculum which, she argues, is often culturally inappropriate (in 30  The theoretical frameworks are discussed in Chapter 3. 24  Clark, 2007, p. 82). My findings in the preliminary study supported this; the teachers indicated that their level of comfort with teaching knowledge of First Nations was a significant consideration. As Hodson (2007) states, where education in Ontario is largely a mono-epistemic and mono-cultural experience that privileges idealized Western understandings, Aboriginal children and youth experience cultural incongruities and are not able to relieve “the tension that exists between the epistemology that they innately know and that which underpins what they are taught and exposed to in their education” (p. 32). As a result, Hodson notes, “the clear but subconscious message . . . is one of cultural inferiority and second-ratedness, which encourages powerlessness, self-hatred, anger, and worse” (p. 36). A host of negative outcomes among Aboriginal young people is the result of a complex mix of historical, social, economic, and sociocultural factors (Banks, 2008; Battiste & Barman, 1995; Cajete, 2000, 2008; Castellano, Davis & Lahache, 2000). Citing the work of Chandler (2005), Hodson notes the mounting body of evidence suggesting a connection between inappropriate education and the high levels of youth suicide (2007, pp. 37-38) among Aboriginal youth. Based on this and other research, Hodson argues that a weakened sense of cultural identity is compounded by epistemic discontinuities and exclusions across the school curriculum. The impacts of these discontinuities on the lives of Aboriginal students provide compelling motivation for fostering culturally appropriate teaching in all curriculum subjects, including music. The approaches that currently dominate in the teaching of and about Native cultures in the mainstream music class may support barriers to cross-cultural understanding and may contribute to epistemic incongruities that Native students experience in school. The key to success for First Nation students, as emphasized by First Nations leaders, is education (e.g., Assembly of First Nations Chief Shawn Atleo, interviewed in Stroumbolopoulous, 25  December 8, 2009; see also, Alfred, 1999; Battiste & Henderson, 2000), yet, as Hodson (2007) argues, educational approaches need to be more congruent with cultural needs. The report of my research in the following chapters provides insights about the process of change that supports the adoption of more appropriate pedagogy and practice according to members of one cultural group and illuminates potential barriers to such change. It provides knowledge about considerations that teachers may not be aware of when teaching music of a First Nation. It supports reflective practice, for example, through inviting teachers to reflect upon their own habits, assumptions, and the language that they use (Bradley, 2006).31 Knowledge gained from my research supports the potential “infusion”32 of cultural knowledge in line with more holistic epistemological frameworks; it supports the development of relational practices that promote the teaching of music within the overall curriculum as a connected sphere of learning. Current demographic trends further intensify the need for, and significance of, research like mine.33 In Canada, about seventy percent of First Nations students live offreserve, mostly in urban areas (Canwest, 2008). Most off-reserve students in Ontario attend publicly funded schools (Hodson, 2007, p. 31). Relocated students experience a syndrome that Hodson (2007) identifies as the “epistemic separation” that accompanies separation from their communities (p. 38).  31  One example is the term “Canada’s Aboriginal Peoples” with its possessive connotation. The term infusion (as compared to inclusion), as used by Ontario Ministry of Education Aboriginal Education Officer Bryon Brissard during his conference presentation (Circle of Light Conference, Toronto, November 2009), means knowledge is infused regularly throughout the curriculum and not taught in isolated units or projects. 33 The overall Aboriginal population is growing approximately five times faster than the nonAboriginal population (Canwest, 2008). According to the 2006 Statistics Canada census, almost 250,000 Aboriginal people live in Ontario (Canwest, 2008) and more than 50,000 Aboriginal students attend publicly funded schools (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2009a). 32  26  Students and teachers alike suffer from a knowledge deficit that leads to continued stereotyping and misunderstanding (Hodson, 2007). Hodson advises that educators must begin by acknowledging that they are a product of an education system which has omitted or under-represented Aboriginal peoples, their perspectives, and their contemporary realities “except perhaps as a historic footnote” (p. 4). Where Bradley (2006) argues that music educators are well centered in the hegemonic core of “white privilege” and that their use of racialized discourses and the thinking that underlies them are not apparent to teachers (p. 8), Hodson (2007) holds that a new consciousness will allow teachers to act outside the “unconscious role they play in the existing cycle” (p. 4). Students from a First Nation may often “hide” their racial identity and heritage (Kanu, 2005). This is an intergenerational consequence of long-term “colonial residues” and the related mistrust of the school system (OME, 2007, p. 6). As a result, teachers may not “see” their Aboriginal students just as Aboriginal students have not “seen” themselves in the school curriculum.34 In this report of my research, I have sought to provide a critical awareness with which teachers may reflect upon their own practice and have improved sight of all of their students, and I have sought to provide insight into the process of developing a teaching practice where Aboriginal students “see themselves and their cultures in the curriculum” (OME, 2007, p. 6).  34  As of June 30, 2009, 28 school boards have approved self-identification policies and 41 boards have begun the process of consultation and policy development; fewer than 10 boards had self-identification policies in 2006. As well, the Ontario College of Teachers has begun preliminary discussions with members to encourage more First Nations, Métis, and Inuit teachers to self-identify (OME, 2009b, p. 10). 27  1.10 Terminology First Peoples, as individuals and as communities across Canada, redefine, self-define, and/or self-name following centuries of externally imposed defining and naming and the ideologies and political controls affiliated with this. In some cases, self-naming, or the choosing of a political affiliation that defines a group’s identity is a counteraction to the external defining and naming imposed upon First Peoples by dominant political forces and/or because of the legal and political implications of laws (Chretien, 2008). Such defining and naming is complex.35 The following are working definitions to provide, at a basic level, common understandings of concepts and names used in this study. When referring to specific nations I use the self-identification and English spelling that I have found to be most commonly used by members of that nation. I am conscious of Linda Smith’s (2005) comment, “the desire for pure, uncontaminated, and simple definitions of the native by the settler is often a desire to know and define the Other, whereas the desires by the native to be self-defining and self-naming can be read as a desire to be free, to escape definition . . . and to be fully human” (p. 86). I provide the following definitions of terms and names with the intention to provide clarity but not to “define” particular communities or people. •  Aboriginal: In Canada, “Aboriginal” refers to all First Peoples whose ancestors are indigenous to, or live in, the lands that Canada now occupies. According to the Canadian Constitution Act of 1982, this includes, and is defined as, people of Indian (First Nations), Métis, and Inuit origins. I use the term “First Peoples” and “Native” interchangeably with the term Aboriginal depending on the context of the writing and/or the term used by the person being referred to.  35  As Marker (2000) notes, “a thorough discussion of terms and their evolution is a separate treatise” (p. 412). 28  •  First Nations: Indian and Northern Affairs Canada states, “First Nations refers to Status and Non-Status ‘Indian’ peoples in Canada. Many communities also use the term ‘First Nation’ in the name of their community” (INAC). This term is widely used to replace the term “Indian” in Canada, and, it “refers to a group that identifies itself as having been a nation living in Canada at the time of European arrival, that is, a group of people with a shared language, territory, way of life, and government” (Clarke, 2007, p. 83). There are currently 615 First Nation communities in Canada. Among them, fifty languages are spoken (INAC).  •  Indian: The legal term “Indian” is used to refer to Native people who are registered under the Indian Act in Canada (Chretien, 2008, p. 111). As the term “First Nations” is generally the preferred term in Canada, I will most often use this term unless using a direct quote or referring to a title such as Indian and Northern Affairs Canada. In the United States, the terms “Native American,” “Indian,” and “American Indian” are used interchangeably; I use these terms as they apply according to the geographic location of the group or nation and according to the language of a participant.  •  Indigenous: This term is used to refer to the original inhabitants of any land or politically defined geographic region or country and their descendents. I use the term Indigenous when referring to Indigenous people globally as well as locally and note that “Indigenous” also refers to people who have “experienced the imperialism and colonialism of the modern historical period” (Smith, 2005, p. 86).  •  Inuit: Aboriginal people from the northern areas of Canada, primarily from Nunavut, Northwest Territories, Labrador, and Northern Quebec (INAC) are called “Inuit.” They speak various dialects of the Inuit language of Inuktitut and are now resettled in fifty-three communities across northern regions which cover one third of Canada’s land mass (Ibid). 29  •  Métis: Generally considered to be people who are of mixed European and First Nation ancestry, the Métis were recognized in the Constitution Act of 1982 as one of the three distinct Aboriginal peoples in Canada (INAC). Since this time, because of the legal, social, political, and cultural implications of Métis identification, many Métis political organizations and groups have emerged as they consider it urgent to identify and define themselves as Métis people for politically expedient reasons (Chretien, 2008, pp. 92-93). Several groups across Canada having diverse cultural, historical, language, and colonial experiences define themselves as Métis Nations; however, as Chretien notes, they may use differing criteria for this identification. The number of people identifying as Métis is increasing, and approximately one-third of Aboriginal people in Canada identify themselves as Métis (INAC). It is important to recognize that the names above are politically implicated. Mohawk  lawyer and scholar Patricia Monture emphasized that the terms First Nations, Aboriginal, Indigenous, Native, and Indian are all “imposed words.” She is quoted as saying, “None of them are our words. None of them express who we are . . . They’re all wrong. They’re all colonial.”36 Multiple perspectives exist within and outside Native communities on preferences about naming and self-naming. Indigenous peoples are increasingly using the name of their people in their own language to self-identify. The following words are also frequently used or referred to in this study: •  Pedagogy: A term derived from the Greek pedae, meaning “children” and agogue, meaning “to lead;” pedagogy literally means “leading children.” Pedagogy and its related term “teaching” have been interpreted, studied, and defined through a variety of  36  Csillag, R. (2010, December 2). Aboriginal, indigenous, native? She preferred Haudenosaunee, or ‘People of the Longhouse’. Globe and Mail [online]. Retrieved April 13, 2011, from http://v1.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/LAC.20101202.OB MONTUREATL/BDAStory/BDA/deaths/?pageRequested=all 30  conceptual lenses (Aoki, in Pinar and Irwin, 2005, pp. 187-197). For the purpose of this dissertation, I draw from Aoki’s exploration of pedagogy, and I define it as a teacher’s “tactful leading” (p. 191) and daily “walking with” her students as she is guided by her beliefs and values about teaching and learning. Pedagogy represents a teacher’s overall daily guidance, relationship, and interaction with her students. •  Practice (or teaching practice): The instructional method(s) a teacher incorporates are described as “practice.” Instructional practices typically utilize theoretical and technical elements aligned with notions about the development of understanding of the subject being learned. In music instruction, these elements may reflect a particular music education philosophy or a particular instructional approach. For example, the Kodály method of teaching music, as conceptualized by Hungarian music educator/composer Zoltan Kodály, is focused on the development of music literacy primarily through singing.  •  Stereotype: I use the definition of stereotype offered by Iseke-Barnes (2009): “a reduction of the ‘other cultural group’ to a few essential characteristics which are fixed in meaning” (p. 30). These meanings are often derogatory.  •  Traditional Music: In this study, “traditional music” refers to social, ceremonial, and healing music that is believed by practitioners to have been practiced for centuries, though it may have evolved. “Traditional music” however, is a contested notion (Diamond, Cronk, & von Rosen, 1994) as “traditional” can take on various meanings and incorporate the fusion of many “traditions” including Western musical traditions (Diamond, 2008). Several terms (e.g., White, Western, and Indigenous) may not be defined by writers  that I refer to in this dissertation; therefore, one must derive meanings from the context in which these terms are used. The spelling of terms and names varies according to local orthographies and language variances, and in some cases, personal preferences of an author. I 31  will spell names and terms according to the spelling given by a particular writer or research participant, and, in other cases, according to commonly used Canadian English spelling. Capitalizations are given according to the practice of particular writers (e.g., Earth, canadian, Place, Tribal, white). Some authors or research participants use the term “Canadian Aboriginal” but most do not. I will refrain from using this phrase unless it is part of a direct quote. I will discuss other terms when necessary as they occur throughout this report of my research.  32  CHAPTER 2: LITERATURE REVIEW 2.1 Introduction In the first part of this chapter (section 2.2), I review literature from fields that are intersected by my research: education, music education, and ethnomusicology. I provide background related to theorizing the school teaching of music of diverse cultures, and I take a brief excursion to explore Indigenous knowledge,37 music as Indigenous knowledge, and music of Haudenosaunee/Iroquoian people. This background provides perspectives on the topic of my research according to the various discourses and related angles of vision of the educator, music educator, ethnomusicologist, Indigenous theorist, and Iroquoian community member. As scholars advise (e.g., Smith, 1999; Piquemal, 2001), and as members of the Woodview community suggested to me during the preliminary research, one who engages in research that involves a First Nations community should also engage in learning about the cultural knowledge of that community. Woodview community members suggested I read several text sources authored by Iroquoian writers including an educational resource guide (Davis, 1999) that describes Iroquoian cosmology, history, governance, traditional culture and lifestyle, and beliefs. The guide states: “Haudenosaunee people are committed to providing an accurate portrayal of themselves to [the] rest of the world” (p. I-5). This statement impressed upon me the importance of cultural knowledge being shared by community knowledge holders, adding significance to the mentoring projects I was studying. As I gradually narrow my review in this chapter from literature about Indigenous knowledge to that which applies specifically to Iroquoian culture, I will feature considerations  37  Several authors capitalize the term “Indigenous Knowledge” (e.g., Nakata, 2002; Barnhardt & Kawagley, 2005; Battiste & Henderson, 2000). However, I use the lower case “k” in “knowledge” regardless of the form or type of knowledge (Indigenous, Western, or other) that is referred to. 33  that Iroquoian knowledge holders have offered regarding the teaching of Iroquoian knowledge to others. Following this review of literature, I describe the results of a personal survey I conducted in which I examined the representation of music of Aboriginal people in Canadian music teaching materials. From this survey, I observed several disparities between this representation and the suggestions of Indigenous scholars. In the second part of this chapter (section 2.3), I review recent empirical and conceptual writings about the teaching of music and knowledge of Indigenous people in Canadian or North American schools with a focus on literature that pertains directly to my research questions. 2.2 Visiting Related Fields The continental philosopher Hans-Georg Gadamer (2004) provides helpful perspectives about the developing of “understanding,” particularly as one encounters unfamiliar knowledge of another culture. Gadamer refers to the knowledge that has been “handed down” to each of us and has influence on what we do, know, and think, as “tradition.” He asserts that we are “marked by the fact that the authority of what has been handed down to us . . . always has power over our attitudes and behavior” (p. 281). Gadamer adds that these traditions “in large measure determine our institutions and attitudes” (p. 282). Our traditions are part of us, yet we are not aware of them. Gadamer observes that our prejudices, similar to our traditions, shape our understandings, and are part of who we are; we cannot separate the productive prejudices that enable understanding from the prejudices that hinder it and lead to misunderstandings (p. 295). I think about the ways my own “traditions” affected my observations and my understandings of the knowledge taught by the mentors during my preliminary research. My overall impression was that, regardless of the teaching subject (e.g., music, visual arts, 34  language arts), they were not only sharing their “art,” but they were teaching their understandings of “Indigenous knowledge” or specifically Iroquoian cultural knowledge, traditions, and perspectives through the arts. However, my traditions impeded my view of wider purposes related to this, such as building relationships between communities. Gadamer maintains that developing awareness of one’s prejudice is the constant requirement of one who seeks to understand the truths of another. He holds that one has not understood something until one has taken seriously the truth claims of the other and allowed them to challenge one’s own. In this research, I am compelled to “visit” fields that may provide insight about the traditions that the mentors in this study might bring to the classroom and truth claims that they might share. In visiting the “fields” in this chapter, I share various, and sometimes conflicting, truth claims. The challenge for me is to make some sense of these or to realize a way I may best respect them. I shall, at points, intersperse some reflections about my process of sense making and questions that emanate from this. Gadamer reminds me that the understandings that I write about are mine; they are my constructions, and they are contingent upon the juxtaposition of knowings that I have at this point in my learning. In the following sections in this part of the chapter, particularly those entitled Indigenous Ways of Knowing and Music of Haudenosaunee/Iroquoian people, I summarize ideas and writings that I understand to be relevant, given the limitations that are shaped by my prejudices and the location of my voice. The knowledge that I share, filtered through the lens of my female, Euro-Canadian perspective, is in an ongoing state of evolution. 2.2.1 Music Education Two philosophical approaches, identified by music educators as praxial and aesthetic, emerge as prominent among a spectrum of approaches in music education, particularly in the North American setting. Elliott (1989, 1995) for example, in his account of praxial music 35  education, asserts that music learners should be actively engaged in making music because, he argues, music is a behaviour and must be considered as such in its learning, as opposed to being considered an object whose characteristics are learned according to Western music constructs.38 Music, to a praxialist, is to be learned through actively making music. Bennett Reimer, describing his “aesthetic” philosophy states, “music education is the education of human feeling, through the development of responsiveness to the aesthetic qualities of sound” (cited in Goble, 2010, p. 231). Reimer calls for the use of “good”—that is, “genuinely expressive”—music, in addition to the application of learning opportunities in which students “feel” the expressive power of music and in which they may become sensitive to elements of music and thus develop insights into human feeling (Ibid.). The aesthetic approach advocates the study of all musics through engaging with music elements, or aesthetic qualities. These concepts are based on Western musical meanings and concepts of art, and this approach focuses on objects of musical practices (or musical works); musicmaking is not a key purpose in this learning (Elliott, 1995, p. 23; Goble, 2010, pp. 232, 233). Reimer (2002) more recently recognizes “the need for inclusion of world musics as an integral and important dimension of music education,” with his rationalization, “America has become more inhabited by a great variety of world cultures” (p. 4). These words reflect a colonial perspective that disregards Indigenous cultures pre-existing the nation-state “America” and the centrality of First Peoples on the lands bounded by it. In World Musics and Music Education: Facing the Issues (Reimer, 2002), the teaching of music of Indigenous people in North America is associated with “world” musics, that is non-Western music. Other music education theorists variously support and critique many aspects of both praxial and 38  Elliott (1995) argues that musics are better understood through making music according to their performance practices and context rather than through studying them according to aesthetic principles grounded in Western understandings of music. 36  aesthetic approaches. For example, Goble (2010) asserts, “Reimer ethnocentrically suggested that all forms of music should be viewed through the culturally specific lens of Western art music, rather than encouraging students to understand different musical practices (and their resulting artifacts, “musics”) on their own terms” (p. 233). Elliott’s praxial approach and Reimer’s aesthetic approach are each based on Western conceptualizations of music, as illustrated by Elliott’s (1995) goal of developing musicianship, a quality that he asserts is manifested in music education settings primarily through the performing, improvising, conducting, arranging, and composing music, all in conjunction with listening; and by Reimer’s focus on learning music for the intrinsic “good” that is contained within objectively determined “quality” music (in Regelski, 1997). Discussions by music education theorists about the teaching of musics of North American First Peoples are usually integrated into discussions of “world music” (e.g., Reimer, 2002) or incorporated within the rubric of “multicultural music” (Elliott, 1995). Elliott asserts that “music education ought to be multicultural in essence” (p. 204), and he proposes that music education practices focus on musical diversity with the ultimate goal of achieving higher levels of musicianship (p. 15). Elliott advocates the ideal form of multicultural music education as dynamic multiculturalism whereby students are exposed to a wide variety of musics and they are taught using the accepted teaching methodology of that culture.39 Yet Elliott does not question the feasibility that one can or should learn according to an assumed cultural “methodology,” and he does not examine what this might entail from the perspective 39  Elliott (1989, 1995) categorizes types of multicultural music education based on Richard Pratte’s model entitled Ideologies of Cultural Diversity. This model is explained in Pratte’s 1979 publication Pluralism in Education: Conflict, Clarity, and Commitment. Pratt’s categories of multicultural engagements range from assimilation (i.e., students learn AngloSaxon values and attitudes), which Elliott equates as the learning of the Western European classical tradition and the cultivation of “good taste,” to categories identified as amalgamation, open society, insular multiculturalism, modified multiculturalism, and dynamic multiculturalism (the most inclusive and engaged form of multiculturalism). 37  of a cultural practitioner. In contrast, Indigenous scholar Andrea Boyea (1999b) calls for wider understanding of values and ways of knowing that underlie the making and expression of music in an Indigenous context. Elliott does not relate that musical expressions in many Native American contexts are based on non-Western conceptions and values (Boyea, 1999b) or consider issues of cultural appropriation and misinterpretation. Elliott’s focus on “musicianship” as the underlying purpose of music education is incommensurate with values relating to music in many Indigenous contexts as described by Boyea (1999a). He normalizes Western conceptions of music through describing elements of musicianship according to Western musical discourse. Other music education theorists such as Thomas Regelski (2000) and Wayne Bowman (1993) challenge what they identify as ethnocentric assumptions that they allege are carried by music educators, and they argue for the “appropriate” teaching of musics of diverse cultures. Similarly, Woodford (2005) takes issue with the passive and unquestioned acceptance of Western cultural values and practices in this teaching. While Woodford doubts that cultural understanding “beyond a superficial level” is possible when teaching musics of diverse cultures (p. 134), Volk comments that the time that is required to learn an “unfamiliar musical practice” beyond a superficial level is, practically speaking, not accommodated within multicultural music curriculum frameworks (pp. 124-125). Further, Bowman (2007) argues that multicultural “inclusion” is mere “tokenism” that exacerbates harmful attitudes and stereotypes, and he suggests that music educators ask deeper questions regarding the purposes of music learning in a school context. Miralis (2005) shows agreement with this position as he comments that there exists “an absence of a solid philosophical basis for multicultural education and world music pedagogy by practitioners, which in turn leads to superficial experiences that focus more on knowledge about cultural artifacts and melodies 38  than on the development of appropriate attitudes toward people from various cultures” (pp. 59–60). In his Critical Pedagogy approach, Abrahams (2005) argues that “proficiency in a specialized symbol system and technical excellence has its place” but is secondary in importance to developing “personal meaning, interpretation, self-social-cultural understanding and expression, [and] a wider knowledge of the world.” To Abrahams, students need to learn about the connections between themselves and “the other,” which includes a study of the self and one’s understanding of the other. However, similar to most music education theorists, Abrahams does not address issues or knowledge specific to Native North Americans. Woodford (2005) and Rice (1998) do however, discuss ethical dilemmas related to the teaching of musics of First Peoples; among these are the abstracting of Indigenous musics (often without permission), the use of these musics away from their cultural contexts, and the distorting, misrepresenting, and adapting of these musics for musical ensembles. While music education philosophers debate values and ethical concerns associated with multicultural music education in general (e.g., Jorgensen, 1998; Regelski, 2000; Bowman, 1993; Woodford, 2005), they do not discuss the fundamental reality that First Peoples are original to the land or discuss the impact of colonization and the relationship of it to musical expression. In contrast, while Boyea (1999b) discusses complexities associated with the school teaching of tribally centered musics, several of which are compounded by or implicated in the project of colonization, Native American theorist Sandra Grande (2004) asserts that Native Americans do see themselves as “the people” with their own center (pp. 2-3); recognition of this center is not inherent in music educators’ discussions.  39  2.2.2 Indigenous Ways of Knowing It is necessary to view knowledge from an Indigenous perspective as voiced by Indigenous educators and scholars. What is Indigenous knowledge? Why is awareness of Indigenous knowledge important with regard to music, music teaching, and this research?40 Indeed, the ethnomusicologist Beverly Diamond (2008) includes a discussion of these matters at the start of her examination of Native musics of Eastern North America. Yet, the concept of Indigenous knowledge, for me, is elusive. The term Indigenous knowledge resists simple and universal definition (Battiste & Henderson, 2000; Williams, 2009). Scholars variously describe it as a sort of “connection” of knowledge, heritage, and a consciousness which is “part” of a particular geographic place (e.g., Battiste & Henderson, 2000, p. 35; Barnhardt & Kawagley, 2005). It is described as personal and local; it is affiliated with a clan, a band, a community, or perhaps an individual (Battiste & Henderson, 2000, p. 36). I have become aware that my need to “define” Indigenous knowledge coheres with Battiste and Henderson’s (2000) observation of the Western tendency to label, categorize, and clarify. Not only can (or should) Indigenous knowledge not be defined in a universalizing sense, Battiste and Henderson assert, it cannot be categorized or understood according to Eurocentric concepts (p. 35).41 Concepts that affiliate with it, such as the “overriding concept of ‘place’” do not have corresponding concepts in European-based languages (Basso, 1996).  40  Nakata points out that a number of terms are used to refer to Indigenous knowledge such as local, traditional, traditional environmental, and ecological knowledge (2002, p. 283). Nakata (a Torres Straight Islander) adds that important aspects of Indigenous knowledge are overlooked by Western thinkers. For example, Indigenous peoples hold collective rights and interests in their knowledge, its orality, its diversity, and its management; this involves norms of protection. Issues surrounding ownership and protection of knowledge are quite different from those inscribed in Western institutions. 41 Battiste, for example, can find no notion similar to “culture” in Algonquian thought (Battiste & Henderson, 2000). 40  I offer some characteristics that recur in literature, the most notable of which is the notion that Indigenous knowledge is specific to, and intimately connected to, a place. This “sensing of place” is described as an “attitude of affinity” by Basso (1996). “Place” is a physical location and also a metaphorical location that “houses” values, attachments, meanings, and identity. Several scholars also note that this valuing of place is absent among non-Indigenous people (e.g., Basso, 1996; La Duke, 2005; Marker, 2006; Chambers, 2008; Haig-Brown, 2008). Other characteristics of Indigenous knowledge which recur in the literature are these: •  Time is measured according to ontological beliefs and corresponds with natural cycles in a place. It is connected to the distant past and future and has a moral component (Blood & Chambers, in Chambers, 2008, p. 116; Cajete, 1995; Ingold, in Chambers, 2008).42 Generations, not decades, measure human life; thus, concern for “seven generations” expresses a moral imperative that impacts on decisions for a Native community (Deloria, 1999, p. 57). Time determines meaning in relationships, particularly since all are connected, and all forms of life in a place share larger cycles of time (Ibid., p. 57-60).43  •  Indigenous knowledges are rooted and expressed in action, and are described using verbbased languages (Cruikshank, 2005; Forbes, 2001; Battiste & Henderson, 2000); they entail “action-oriented” naming (Basso, 1996). Linguistic anthropologist Floyd Lounsbury (1960) notes that the verb-centered morphology and extensive prefixing and suffixing system of Haudenosaunee languages allow for great elaboration in naming places. The action orientation of verb-based languages contrasts sharply with noun-based understanding (in European languages) of concepts such as music (e.g., Diamond, Cronk,  42  When referring to the settlers of 150 years ago, the Blackfoot say “they have just arrived” (Chambers, 2008, p. 116). 43 Cycles within the rhythm of nature are the bases of ceremony and celebration in Iroquoian traditions (La France, 1993). 41  & von Rosen, 1994). Notably, the noun “music” does not have a corresponding word in most North American Native languages (Diamond, 2008). •  Place is spiritual (Aplin, 2009) because the Earth is a “living soul” (Cajete, 1995, p. 55).44 Cajete describes the relationship between people and the natural world as “ensoulement” since “spirit and matter are not separate; they are one and the same” (p. 56). The human psyche is grounded in the same order as that perceived in nature. Many Native North Americans understand themselves “as literally born of the earth of their Place.” Because one is also born of the “earth spirits” of that place, one is bonded to that place (Ibid.).  •  Balance and harmony are key values that are integrated within First Nations holistic ways of knowing. Connection to all, in a communal environment, brings this balance and harmony (Battiste, in Diamond, 2008, p. 23). This leads to clear thinking. Notions of relationality and holism are prevalent in the writings by several education theorists about Indigenous knowledges (e.g., Chambers, 2008; Haig-Brown & Danneman, 2002; Kanonhsonni/Hill & Stairs, 2002). People of various First Nations refer to the Medicine Wheel as a visual representation of balance, harmony, and relationality. The characteristics listed above are recurrent in discussions of Indigenous knowledge and  ways of knowing, but not definitive or universal to all Indigenous communities and people in Canada or in North America. Knowledge in an Indigenous context might be conceived more as connected and spiritually infused ways of knowing that are rooted in a place. As I grasp for understandings of unfamiliar ideas, I may overlook the obvious points made by Nakata (2002) that Indigenous knowledge is not received by all people equally within a culture or  44  For example, Aplin, (2009) relates that the Chiricahua and Warm Springs Apache “medicine man” receives the spirit and ceremonial music and dance from the Gahe (benevolent beings) in the mountains in order to share health, protection, and blessings in the Fire Dance ceremony. 42  community, and by Barnhardt and Kawagley (2005) that Indigenous meanings vary according to the level of assimilation amongst First Peoples. Cultures evolve, people leave reserve communities, and global knowledge infiltrates local communities. Community knowledge is shaded by generations of contact, negotiation, and commerce with Europeans and other immigrants (Whidden, 2007). Indigenous communities in Canada are experiencing rapid and substantial cultural change, particularly influenced by media and communications technologies, plus movement away from traditional subsistence lifestyles (e.g., Whidden, 2007). Indigenous ways of knowing are evolving, not static, yet, as Whidden notes, certain values and affiliations, such as the valuing of natural medicines and animals, remain at the core of the Cree “ethos” in some Cree communities (p. 75). The knowledges and understandings (or, in Gadamer's terms, the traditions and prejudices) on either side of the border separating Indigenous and Western knowledges are variable. The border itself is well perforated (Nakata, 2002). At the beginning of this section, I asked why awareness of Indigenous knowledge is important with regard to music, music teaching, and this research. Ethnomusicologists stress that music of the past and present is woven into and reflective of Indigenous knowledge and values (e.g., Heth, 1993; Diamond, 2008; Whidden, 2007). It would seem natural then that a general discussion of recurrent elements relating to Indigenous ways of knowing should accompany a study of the teaching of music from an Indigenous culture; they cannot be separated. Learning about Indigenous ways of knowing also heightens my awareness of my ways of knowing; that is, my prejudices. This awareness provided a foundation from which I would subsequently interrogate my research findings. Would the mentors teach about place in relation to music? How would they do this? Would they include connected, spiritual, and holistic ways of knowing? How 43  would they represent spiritual knowledge in mainstream public school settings where cultural and religious pluralism is respected, but notions of spirituality might be interpreted as faithbased or religious knowledge?45 In a curricular system based on the separation of “subjects,” how would the mentors traverse these separations? In what ways would the teachers interpret this integrated knowledge and/or apply it in their classroom practice? Two topics emerged from this investigation of Indigenous knowledge that I felt warranted further examination and a related review of literature. The first topic is a comparison of Indigenous and Western knowledges. I considered that this comparison would illustrate discrepancies and comparisons between knowledge systems that would likely have relevance in terms of the teaching of music. They would inform my observations of mentors as they negotiated between contrasting values and ways of knowing. The second topic that emerged is the relationship between music and Indigenous knowledge. I considered that an exploration of this relationship would provide insight about the ways mentors might integrate music with knowledge they taught about Iroquoian cultures. In the next two sections, I examine these topics. 2.2.3 Comparisons of Indigenous Knowledge to Western Knowledge While Indigenous forms of knowledge are described as holistic and continually reforming, Western knowledges are described as disconnected, compartmentalized, and linear (Barnhardt & Kawagley, 2005, p. 12; Canadian Council on Learning, 2007). Deloria (1999) posits that Indigenous knowledge synthesizes emotion and logic while Western science is clearly stated, capable of replication, and objective. Vizenor and Lee compare the Western 45  Following the 1982 Charter of Rights and Freedoms in Canada, mainstream public schools in Ontario do provide non-denominational moral or values education, which is based on common values and appreciation of equality in a pluralistic society but faith-based education is not provided. (Retrieved June 1, 2011 from http://www.edu.gov.on.ca/eng/document/curricul/religion/religioe.html#Footnote) 44  value of dominance over nature to the Indigenous natural union with the environment (in Kuokkanen, 2007, p. xiii). Western notions of religious faith do not correspond with Indigenous notions of spirituality (Deloria, 1999; Marker, 2006) as spirituality is embedded within all aspects of this knowing (Deloria, 1999, p. 44-48; Barnhardt & Kawagley, 2005). In Indigenous ways of knowing, one values the teachings provided by all living things; thus, knowledge, to be useful, is directed at moral and ethical purposes (Deloria, 1999, p. 44). Correspondingly, the dissociated Eurocentric curriculum that isolates the “known self” from a “transmitted knowledge or set of skills” (Battiste & Henderson, 2000, p. 88) prevents any reciprocal spiritual or ethical connection to learning. Deloria (1999) explains that, in an education based on Indigenous values, personal growth would take precedence, followed by the developing of skills and expertise, whereas the opposite is the case in Eurocentric education. He suggests that the separation of knowledge and skills from knowledge of self is a health risk for Aboriginal students.46 Cayuga educator Brenda Davis (1999), drawing from ethnobotanist James W. Herrick’s (1995) comparison of Euro-American and Iroquoian worldviews, lists several points of difference. Among these are (1) the Western reliance upon hierarchical principles and notions of cause-and-effect compared to the Iroquoian focus on interactional relationships, (2) the Western focus on authoritarianism and individualism compared to the Iroquoian focus on co-operation, (3) the valuing of competitiveness compared to the Iroquoian valuing of symbiotic relationships, (4) the notion of unity by similarity and repetition compared to the Iroquoian notion of harmony through diversity, (5) the Western reliance upon categorization and taxonomic methods compared to the Iroquoian reliance upon contextual factors and contextual analysis, and (6) the Western belief in one truth compared to the Iroquoian belief 46  This supports the notion of epistemological discontinuity I described in Chapter 1. 45  that one must learn and take into consideration different views. Not surprisingly, several theorists describe Western and Indigenous knowledge systems as incommensurable and incompatible (e.g., Kuokkanen, 2007; Deloria, 1999; Battiste, 1998). “Teaching” in an Indigenous context typically features stories, demonstration, and hands-on activity rather than didactic telling or explaining (Brant, in Piquemal, 2001; Barnhardt & Kawagley, 2005; Chambers, 2008; Kawagley, 2006). Through “story,” teaching and disciplining are done indirectly (Augustine, in Diamond, 2008, p. 26), and worldview and moral teachings are affirmed (Basso, 1996, p. 40; Marker, 2003). “Learning” in an Indigenous context is described variously as a total body awareness or “sophisticated perceptual awareness” (Chambers, 2008, p. 118) and as “watchful listening” (Lorna Williams, in Kennedy, 2009). In line with the orality of Cree culture, music lyrics may be written, but not notation; thus, reading music is unnecessary (Whidden, 2007). Hermes (2005) describes learning as “experienced,” but not formally taught, in an environment in which the relationship between teacher and student is paramount. The ethic of noninterference and the principle of equality (Piquemal, 2001, p. 73) influence Indigenous teaching/learning relationships. This is exemplified as singer/drummer Maggie Paul describes her teaching of songs of Maliseet culture: “I don’t tell them ‘You should do it this way.’” She explains, “I say, ‘this is how I do it, this is what I hear, but you can do whatever you want with it’” (in von Rosen, 2009, p. 64). Marker (2006) deems that Western knowledge and epistemologies bring about universalizing trends and homogenization, whereas place-based knowledge is specific to locality.47 The use of standardized provincial (or state) curricula exemplifies this trend. The 47  Other scholars support this position in their arguments that provincially mandated universalized curricula (Battiste, 1998) and “best practices” (Ball, 2004) do not apply to local situations and needs. 46  inter-relatedness of people and place conflicts with the compartmentalized “placeless” knowledge taught in mainstream education (Haig-Brown, 2008; Cherubini, 2009), an observation supported by Boyea (1999a) in her discussion of the teaching of music. Boyea describes the “violations to venue” when musics are removed from the place and function for which they were intended (p. 106) and then taught in a decontextualized manner in the classroom. Boyea also voices a concern about the use of printed music in classrooms, as it contradicts oral tradition. As I reviewed literature focused on comparisons of knowledge systems and related conceptions of teaching and learning, some of which pertain to music, I noted that some scholars introduced school pedagogical frameworks that they believed would intersect contrasting worldviews and knowledge systems. For example, Barnhardt and Kawagley’s (2005) model for science education identifies common “qualities” that, they posit, traverse Western science and traditional Native knowledge systems and provide a framework for biepistemic school study (p. 16). Some Indigenous theorists argue that Western and Indigenous knowledge in education settings can mutually support one another through being treated as dual knowledge systems in parallel.48 Such dual systems of knowledge are called for in recent policy documents (e.g., Canadian Council of Learning, 2007) which affirm Aboriginal students’ “own ways of knowing, cultural traditions, and values” through learning in a holistic knowledge environment alongside a “Western education that can equip them with the knowledge and skills they need to participate in Canadian society” (Ibid., p. 2). However, Nakata (2002) suggests that there are real problems with beginning one’s theorizing from principles based in a notion of duality. He states, “not only do they obscure 48  Similar notions are referred to as “two-eyed seeing” by Kelly (2009); twinness by Browner (2009); a dualistic approach by Hermes (2000); and, as two ways of knowing (Canadian Council of Learning, 2007). 47  the complexities at this intersection, but they define Indigenous people to the position of “other” by reifying the very categories that have marginalized us historically” (p. 285). Nakata argues that such conceptual frameworks “seek to capture a form of culture that fits with Western ways of understanding ‘difference’; a cultural framework largely interpreted by Western people in the education system and filtered back to Indigenous students” (p. 285). Nakata argues that many cross-cultural and language differences are negotiated on a daily basis by Indigenous people. In his theory of “cultural interface,” Nakata holds that there are “no hard and fast rules” because concepts of differences are fluid constructions; notions of hybridity and intersection more accurately describe the relationship between Indigenous and Western knowledges. Although Nakata does not specifically refer to music, he argues that, because there are similarities across categories of Indigenous and Western knowledges and substantial differences within each, simple binary separation fails in theorizing intersections between knowledge systems (p. 284). Agrawal states, “[the] duality between knowledge systems falsely assumes a fixity within both, as all knowledge systems are in states of continual transformation” (in Nakata, 2002, p. 284). In order to successfully build new epistemic foundations, “accounts of innovation and experimentation must bridge the Indigenous/Western divide” (Ibid.). Iseke-Barnes (2009) supports the notion that differences are naturalized, creating false categories such as Indigenous and White that mask the “tremendous variance” within these categories (p. 30). She argues that this fixes differences and makes change and reinterpretation impossible. Dominant culture continues to hold the power to define and classify cultural groups (Ibid., pp. 30-31). While scholars and policy makers develop models from which dualistic curricula may be developed, Nakata’s theorizing does not provide such curricular direction. Nakata acknowledges complexity in his reference to the multiple identities and lived experiences of Indigenous people that cross cultural lines. 48  Such notions are reinforced by Valaskakis (2005) as she describes the complex intersections of knowledge, values, and identities that members of Indigenous communities contend with and by Donald (2008) as he asserts that thinking in terms of dichotomy is contradictory to western Cree ways of viewing complexity in the world. Indigenous scholars have pointed out that Aboriginal students experience epistemic incongruities (e.g., Hodson, 2007; Battiste & Henderson, 2000; Battiste, 1998) that lead to negative consequences for these students. Meanwhile, the Policy Framework (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2007) calls for more culturally responsive school curricula and pedagogies; recent revisions of Ontario arts curricula mandate inclusive practices and the use of “materials that reflect the diversity of Canadian and world cultures, including those of contemporary First Nation, Métis, and Inuit peoples” (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2009c, p. 51). How can one develop a more culturally responsive pedagogy and choose appropriate “materials” in the teaching of music unless one has an understanding of Indigenous ways of knowing that underlie these? 2.2.4 Indigenous Knowledge and Music Ethnomusicologists, educators, and anthropologists who have conducted recent research in Aboriginal communities provide much of the literature pertaining to the topic of musical expression of Indigenous ways of knowing and being. I found that writings that explored the cultural life of a community, such as those of Yu’pik scholar Oscar Kawagley (2006) and ethnomusicologist Lynn Whidden (2007), provided vivid portrayals of past and present cultural life and explored influences that more recently impacted lifestyle and cultural expressions. I observed two general themes that seemed to characterize various scholars’ descriptions of music in Aboriginal communities. The first is the holistic and interactive relationship between “musical” expression and Indigenous ways of knowing, particularly as 49  reflected in “traditional” lifestyles. The second is the relationship between music making and various impacts of colonization. Margaret Kovach’s (2009) statement, “colonization came to affect every aspect of Indigenous life” (p. 77) I considered, included music. Several researchers described elements of music making and the musical life of a community that took place as a response to or in some way was implicated by colonial impacts and residues. Diamond (2008) refers to a wide range of musical and social “meeting points” that encompass the overriding theme of “encounter” (p. 3). Many ethnomusicologists illustrate examples of ways that the sense of connection to place, what Cajete (1994) describes as the “ecological mindset of sacredness,” is enacted through song and ceremony (e.g., Aplin, 2009; Sercombe, 2009; von Rosen, 2009; Draper, 2009; Heth, 1993; Whidden, 2007). Giving thanks to spiritual forces, preparing for a hunt, or offering reciprocation to the spirit of a hunted prey, are shared musically to illustrate understanding and respect (Kawagley, 2006; Whidden, 2007) as humans, animals, and spirit are united and interdependent. The sentience of the land is heeded musically in Blackfoot territory because “the land recognizes its people” (Little Bear, in Chambers, 2008, p. 124; see also Aplin, 2009 for a discussion of Apache practices). Ethnomusicologist Charlotte Heth (1993), describing Native North American cultures generally, states, “Indian music and dance provide all aspects of life, from creation stories to death and remembrance of death,” (p. 17) as “in Indian life the dance is not possible without the belief systems and the music, and the belief systems and the music can hardly exist without the dance” (p. 12). Within many Native American cultures song knowledge may come as a gift49 and songs and dances reflect the experiential connection of humans and animals in this gift-giving relationship (Diamond, 2008, p. 10). Elder/scholar Stephen 49  This may come from a dream, or from a human or spirit source (Diamond, 2008, p. 10). 50  Augustine explains that, without knowledge of this spiritual relationship, the gift of song or dance is less meaningful (Ibid., p. 10). Music and ceremonies provide healing (Kawagley, 2006, p. 95; Heth, 1993; Sercombe, 2009; Whidden, 2007). Cajete’s (1995) observation that “Indian people were joined with their land with such intensity that many of those [who] were forced to live on reservations suffered a form of soul death” (p. 57) brings me to the second theme. Music, as an expression of localized cultural knowledge, may be an assertion of identity, an assertion of resistance to domination, and/or a sacred means of expression that leads to healing and well being. For example, northern groups who have been more recently relocated to permanent settlements and towns have found music performance of drum-dance songs to provide a connection to the past (Conlon, 2009) that offers a sense of comfort after physically being separated from their previous communities. Mi’kmaq musicians have affirmed that their music making has generated feelings of emancipation after the silencing caused by decades of cultural suppression (e.g., von Rosen, 2009). Dene community members have noted a resurgence of identity and traditional values by reviving musical and cultural traditions (e.g., Lafferty & Keillor, 2009, p. 31). Potts (2006) describes the perspective of urban Aboriginal musicians performing contemporary popular music that their music serves as a “weapon” against oppression, while Burton and DunbarHall (2002) describe music by Native songwriters as a form of anti-colonial critique. The act of making music alleviates or responds to some of the distress emanating from centuries of colonization, assimilation, and forced relocation. Because of processes of cultural assimilation,50 traditional music and ceremonies are valued by their capacity to promote balance and healing (Kawagley, 2006, p. 95), reaffirm ties to culture (Heth, 1993, p. 8), and reaffirm identity (Aplin, 2009). Yet “returns” to “traditions,” 50  Owens refers to this as “one of the longest sustained histories of genocide and ethnocide in the world” (in Iseke-Barnes, 2009, p. 16). 51  for example by participating in powwows (noting that the music and dance of this celebration originated among Plains cultures), may be re-defining notions of tradition in terms of “panIndian” identities which do not represent a local cultural heritage but offer a revitalized sense of identity (Whidden, 2007). While some knowledge, including music and drum knowledge, is experienced and interpreted in differing contexts and ways within communities (Valaskakis, 2005), I reflect that values associated with “vitalization” (Elder/scholar Stephen Augustine, in Diamond, 2011), healing, regeneration, renewal, or assertions of identity and empowerment are powerful forces that may accompany music making in First Nations communities. Through reviewing literature that describes musical practices specific to communities and describes broader relationships between music and Indigenous ways of knowing and being, and in considering the two wider themes that emerged from my review of this literature, I entered into this research with a sense that mentors would carry purposes that extended well beyond those related to teaching cultural knowledge as they taught music in the mainstream school classroom. In the preceding paragraphs, I have shared a range of literature that has informed my understanding of music as Indigenous knowledge and noted two themes that emerged from my review: (1) the relationship between “musical” expression and Indigenous ways of knowing, and (2) the relationship between music making and impacts of colonization. I now continue this discussion as it pertains specifically to music of Iroquoian cultures and communities.  52  2.2.5 Music of Haudenosaunee/Iroquoian people51 I begin by presenting some historical and social/cultural background of the Haudenosaunee. The name “Haudenosaunee” means the “People of the Longhouse.”52 The “Longhouse” refers to the confederation of five nations—the Mohawk, Seneca, Onondaga, Oneida, and Cayuga—who, it is estimated, joined together around the time of the 15th Century and later included the Tuscorora in the 18th century (Mitchell, Barnes & Thomson, 1984; Wallace, 1994).53 The Longhouse carries other meanings: the traditional multi-family clanbased living structure;54 the League which metaphorically “houses” the nations; the Longhouse lifestyle and related spiritual practices; and the buildings in which Longhouse practitioners meet (Fenton, 1951a, p. 5; Diamond, 2008; Thomas & Boyle, 1994). People who “practice Longhouse” are people who attend Longhouse ceremonies and respect the tenets and lifestyle associated with Longhouse beliefs. Beliefs, moral codes, community mores, and systems of governance of the Haudenosaunee originated with the teachings of the Peacemaker, who was responsible for the formation of the Confederacy; teachings are inscribed in the constitutional laws of the Great Law of Peace (Mitchell, Barnes & Thomson, 1984; Wallace, 1994).55  51  The name “Haudenosaunee” is now increasingly used by members of this cultural group instead of the name Iroquois with its French origins. Algonquin nations (political enemies at the time of contact) called them the Iroqu (Irinakhoiw) or "rattlesnakes." After the French added the Gallic suffix "-ois" to this insult, the name became Iroquois (Retrieved January 5, 2010 from Iroquois History website http://tolatsga.org/iro.html). The various spellings of Haudenosaunee represent language differences. 52 Individual Haudenosaunee nations have unique ceremonies, protocols, music, and other traditions. 53 The time or date of the formation of the confederacy varies in different writings. 54 The Haudenosaunee were traditionally agriculturalists who built semi-permanent longhouse structures housing many families of one clan, overseen by a clan Mother. 55 This is also known as the “Binding Law of Peace.” The constitutional laws encoded in the 114 wampums of the Great Law were taught orally through the centuries (Mitchell et al., 1984; Wallace, 1994). 53  Traditional music of the Haudenosaunee retains core connections to the Haudenosaunee belief system and worldview. This belief system prioritizes the relationship with and the respect for all who inhabit both the immediate locale and the universe (La France, 1993). For example, social dances, a valued expression of Haudenosaunee culture (Applegate Krouse, 2001), open with the reciting of the Thanksgiving Address expressing gratitude to all living beings, starting with human beings and the Earth Mother, followed by gratitude towards creatures of the earth, water, and air, and moving through the cosmos (La France, 1993). Through showing respect for all life and offering “words before all else” participants become “of one mind” to start a public event such as a social dance. The Thanksgiving Address is recited to end the dance as well. Traditional music is described as social or sacred (also referred to as ceremonial) (La France, 1993, p. 19), though Diamond (2008) notes that the boundaries between social and sacred may be blurred (p. 104). It is generally permissible for social music to be shared with those outside of Haudenosaunee communities, but ceremonial music and the ceremonies that they are a part of stays within the community. La France (1993) notes that the annual cycle of sacred ceremonies pays respect “for the positive energies of nature” (p. 25). Ethnomusicologists have traced and analyzed songs from Haudenosaunee communities and found them to be historically mixed, influenced by, and adoptive of music and dance of other Indigenous nations (e.g., Kurath, 1951).56 Thus, from an historical perspective, the notion of authenticity, if it is defined in terms of purity, is already complex. Recently, “singing societies” have been re-emerging, expressing community and cultural respect through the singing of eskanye and other songs which may combine traditional songs 56  The Haudenosaunee nations have long histories of inter-tribal adoptions, trades, negotiations, and amalgamations before and after European contact. The “Alligator Dance” commonly performed at social dances is “passed up” from the Seminole (Native Drum). 54  with present day lyrics and meanings (Diamond, 2008).57 Sings and do’s take place when singing societies from several Iroquoian communities get together, usually with purposes of helping those in need (La France, 1993; Diamond, 2008). Researchers have examined the relationship between music, including contemporary music, localized knowledge, and place. Valentine (2003), for example, describes the ways in which song and lyric together (in a particular country and western song composed by a songwriter from the Six Nations community) index social and political concerns from within that community. Valentine holds that grasping the meaning of the song requires understanding the depth of the difficulties faced by community members who previously attended the local Mohawk residential school, as the song lyrically draws on the long-term effects of this experience on family relationships (p. 143). She describes “subtle stylistic features . . . which mark [this song] as uniquely Iroquoian in nature” with “layers of meaning built upon and out of traditional Iroquoian discursive strategies” (p. 131).58 Valentine draws connections between local experience, built around collective and individual memories and experiences, and musical traits that are uniquely Iroquoian in this country and western song. A wide variety of musics in contemporary genres are created by musicians from Iroquoian communities who raise consciousness, voice local and political concerns, and construct and reflect their identities as Native people (Diamond, 2008, p. 136; Potts, 2006).59 Rock musician Derek Miller (Mohawk, from Six Nations) emphasizes the importance of preserving traditional knowledge in popular music (Potts, 2006, p. 133) while rock legend 57  Eskanye is a Haudenosaunee song-dance genre often called the women’s shuffle dance. Eskanye are performed by men and women, but only danced by women. They continue to be composed and may adapt music from other songs and texts (Diamond, 2008). 58 A fluid relationship between text and tune is typical in Iroquoian songs of the Longhouse and the centuries-old hymn singing tradition (D. Maracle, in Valentine, p. 135). 59 This is exemplified in the rap music of the Six Nations group Trurez Crew (Diamond, 2008, p. 130). 55  Robbie Robertson, drawing from his mother’s Mohawk roots, overlays the lyrics of Unity Stomp, in which he sings of “coming back to his community,” with a stomp dance sung by the Six Nations Women’s Singers (in Diamond, 2008, p. 112).60 Music performed in a Haudenosaunee/Iroquoian community reflects a diverse musical history that includes brass bands, hymn singing genres, eskanye and social songs, and other types of music. Christianization and Westernization (Diamond, 2008) and also the conservancy of Longhouse traditions (Cornelius, 1999; Shimony, 1994) have had various influences upon this diversity. Distinct lines between “traditional” and “contemporary” music are difficult to draw (Diamond, 2008). Local and historical particularities (Valentine, 2001), community and individual movements to Longhouse spirituality, and historical relocations and political events (Diamond, 2006) are reflected in a wide variety of music in one community. The continued tradition of social dances among the Seneca in Rochester, New York, promotes a sense of belonging and identity, serves socialization purposes, and teaches cultural values (Applegate Krouse, 2001). Despite a long history of displacement, the music of ceremony and social dance traditions of the Haudenosaunee remains strong (Diamond, 2008, p. 116). While Mohawk cultural teachers assert the importance of community control over the sharing and expression of their knowledge (Mitchell, Barnes, & Thomson, 1984, p. vi; Davis, 1999), they simultaneously encourage non-Indigenous others to develop understanding of their values and related cultural knowledge. As I reflected on the meanings associated with musics as described by researchers and by community members teaching cultural knowledge, I also considered the inclusion of the alleged Iroquoian songs Hani Kouni and Iroquoian 60  This song was performed at the opening ceremony at the 2002 Olympics in Salt Lake City, Utah, by Robertson, Rita Coolidge (Cherokee), singing group Walale, and Six Nations Women’s Singers lead singer Sadie Buck. (Retrieved December 2, 2009 from http://www.ammsa.com/birchbark/topnews-Feb-2002.html) 56  Lullaby in school materials. I wondered about the ways in which these songs became transferred to these texts and the degree of community control over this. I considered that an evaluation of the representation of these and other musics of Aboriginal peoples in Canadian school music materials would provide broader insights about the representation of music (Iseke-Barnes, 2009) or the lack of it (Haig-Brown, HodsonSmith, Regnier, & Archibald, J. 1997, p. 17) in these published materials. I was interested in examining the kinds of contextual knowledge that would be included. From whose perspective are these musics presented? Whose knowledge is represented? Are the relationships between musical expression and impacts of colonization or to ways of knowing represented in these school materials? Although I had used most of these materials in my practice, and they are frequently found in music classrooms across Canada, I had not previously critically surveyed them in terms of their representation of Aboriginal people, music, and knowledge. 2.2.6 Music of Aboriginal Peoples in Music Education Materials I surveyed four popular music education textbook series used in English-speaking Canada for Grades 1 to 8. I also studied a Canadian elementary music teaching manual as well as documents produced by national music education organizations that provide curricular guidelines for elementary and secondary music teachers.61 I examined the musics from Iroquoian Nations and other Aboriginal people that were represented in these texts and materials and the ways in which they were represented. I attended to the contextual  61  The four textbook series are: Music Builders, Canada is . . . Music, Musicanada, and Musicplay. The teaching manual is Teaching for Musical Understanding (Montgomery, 2002). The documents provided by national music education organizations are Music Education Guidelines (2008c), and Canadian Music Education: A National Resource: Concepts and Skills - Achieving Music Understanding - Elementary (2008a), and Secondary (2008b). 57  information that was provided by the publications’ editors and authors about the music, community, or person that they came from. I first describe the national documents. Music educators from two national music education organizations in Canada, the Coalition for Music Education (CME) and the Canadian Music Educators’ Association (CMEA), co-authored the two resource documents Canadian music education: A national resource: Concepts and skills and Music Education guidelines for elementary and secondary school use. In these documents, there is no mention of First Peoples of Canada or musics attributed to them (see CME & CMEA, 2008a, 2008b, 2008c). The Concepts and Skills documents call for the teaching of “music of diverse cultures, styles and eras” from Grade 3 to the end of secondary school (e.g., CME & CMEA, 2008a, p. 61; CME & CMEA 2008b, p. 19). For example, younger children should “build a repertoire of chants and songs of Canadian and world cultures” (CME & CMEA 2008a, p. 29). Aboriginal cultures are not mentioned but presumably are included under the rubric of “diverse” or “Canadian” or “world” cultures. The CME’S mission is, in part, “to raise awareness and understanding of the role that music plays in Canadian culture” (CME & CMEA, 2008a, inside cover). The elementary Concepts and Skills document states, “Making music results in musical understanding. As students engage in creating and making music, they acquire skills that deepen their musical knowledge and comprehension and allow them to experience the joy of creating music at progressively more difficult levels of achievement” (e.g., 2008a, p. 8). Skills such as to “sing with a light, head tone, match pitches and sing in tune . . . following the directions of a conductor” (CME & CMEA, 2008a, p. 35) are called for. The knowledge and skills recommended in these documents illustrate Western musical aesthetics and values. 58  While understanding the role of music in Canadian culture is recommended, there is no mention of First Peoples in Canada in these documents. Each of the textbook series as well as the teachers’ manual I reviewed includes a few examples of songs and chants of First Nations and Inuit peoples at several grade levels. There are three composed songs by Blackfoot artists in the Musicplay series. One song of Inuit culture in Music Builders IV is accompanied with story and poetry, geographical, contextual, and cultural knowledge. The originator of the song is acknowledged. Most of the textbooks have one or two songs, usually nursery songs, with the words that are sung in the language of that Nation. Often the same song is replicated among various publications.62 A vast array of musics from unique cultures and locations are reduced to one or two song choices in a textbook, although some grade levels have no music samples from Aboriginal peoples in Canada. In some cases, specific cultural identities are omitted through referencing a song as a “First Nations song” (e.g., Montgomery, 2002, p. 32). The Native musics represented in these texts are for the most part used to teach Western musical concepts and understandings. The song Iroquois Lullaby, for example, effectively meets the criteria of “appropriate range,” “note placement,” “starting note,” and includes other musical attributes suitable for teaching music to a Grade 3 child (Montgomery,  62  Iroquois Lullaby, also entitled Ho Ho Watanay, is included in all four series. It is found in Music Builders I, p. 25 (Mason, E. & Hardie, M., 1986, Toronto: Berandol); Canada is . . . Music 3-4, p. 34 (Harrison, J. & Harrison, M., 2000, Toronto: G.V. Thompson); Musicanada 3, p. 23 (Brooks, P., 1983, Toronto: Holt, Rinehardt & Winston); and Musicplay 5, p. 19 (Gagne, D., 1997, Red Deer, AB: Themes & Variations). It is also included in the teaching manual Teaching Towards Musical Understanding (Montgomery, A., 2002, p. 32, Toronto: Prentice Hall). As I have noted in Chapter 1, Iroquois Lullaby was “found” at the Kahnawake reserve in Quebec in 1955 and recorded by folksinger Alan Mills (Encyclopedia of Music in Canada). This information is not included in any of the textbooks surveyed. 59  2002, pp. 30, 32). Native musics are used to teach concepts such as musical form63 or to develop skills using European-based instructional practices such as the Orff approach.64 A story in the textbook Canada Is . . . Music, Grade 3-4,65 entitled The Spirit Wind, is identified as a “First People’s myth” (pp. 63-64). The story forms the basis of an integrated arts unit. The person, community, or Nation from whom the story originated and information about the culture that might provide meaning to the story are omitted. These omissions exemplify the tendency to “make invisible” by not naming the originators of the story, and universalizing specific and distinct cultures (Iseke-Barnes, 2009). All eight songs composed for this unit are written in the key of D minor, the lyrics of two are written in vocables (e.g., “wee ha ya” in Celebration and “may ho ta” in Warrior Dance), while a third, Paddle Song has a combination of English words and vocables (Harrison & Harrison, 2000, pp. 64–72). These songs appear to provide aural cues (minor key and vocables) intended to indicate the sound of “Native music.” There is no acknowledgement of the culture the music is supposed to be representative of. The lack of justification for the use of the story, the lack of acknowledgement of the way in which the story was borrowed, shared, or possibly adapted, the apparent musical generalizing, and the universalizing of Native peoples, problematizes the use of this “myth.” I concluded from this survey that knowledge deficits among teachers (Dion, in Clarke, 2007) are reflected in the omission of reference to First Peoples in the national documents. In the textbooks and teaching manual, musics and people are represented in ways that disregard 63  In the Montgomery (2002) manual, Iroquois Lullaby and two songs identified as Ojibwe are suggested for the creation of a rondo (p. 291). 64 In Mason and Hardie’s (1986) series, Hani Kouni (Grade IV) and Sioux Lullaby (K) are suggested to be taught according to Orff pedagogical approaches incorporating movement leading to instrument accompaniment. 65 In Harrison, J. & Harrison, M. (2000), Canada is . . . music 3 – 4. Toronto: Gordon V. Thomson Music. 60  their cultural context and origins, as discussed by Iseke-Barnes (2009, p. 32), fabricate notions of Nativeness (as exemplified by songs and story in the “First Nations myth”), and generalize distinct cultures and musics. Some materials include contemporary musics and indicate their origins and those of the songwriters (e.g., Musicplay); however, most include songs collected in the past and include minimal community or cultural knowledge. In several examples, a Native song is used to teach Western musical skills and concepts. One example (Musicbuilders IV) provides a more holistic exploration of Inuit culture in conjunction with a contemporary song composed by an Inuit songwriter. Several disjunctures were apparent to me as I considered notions of Indigenous ways of knowing and learning and the importance of learning Iroquoian cultural knowledge from an Iroquoian perspective (Davis, 1999). The generalizing of Indigenous knowledges and musics and the use of songs to teach Western musical concepts were prominent among these. As a teacher I had relied on the authority of these texts, for, as Clarke (2007) offers, “textbooks represent what is deemed to be legitimate knowledge by those in positions of authority within the educational hierarchy” (p. 93). I wondered if the mentors in this study would know Iroquoian Lullaby or Hani Kouni, songs that children across the country are taught to be representative of their culture. I wondered if they would share my concerns about misrepresentation, cultural appropriation, or exploitation. What music would the mentors choose to represent their culture? In light of the knowledge provided by the scholars in the fields intersected by my research, I now investigate literature that pertains directly to my research questions. I travel to the place where my research would be literally and figuratively located, the school music classroom.  61  2.3 From Indigenous Knowledge to the School Music Room 2.3.1 Specific Research Question #1 What knowledge do mentors and artists communicate as valued and significant in relation to the teaching of music of Haudenosaunee people in the mainstream classroom and in what ways do mentors share this knowledge? Nakata (2006)66 argues that “studying” Indigenous knowledges in a Western institution is a very different enterprise from “learning” deeply embedded Indigenous cultural and social meanings in their own contexts (p. 270). Nakata holds that, if we consider the intersections of knowledge not as “simply an Indigenous/non-Indigenous intersection but as an interface that is complex and layered by many, many historical and discursive intersections, then the difficulties of representing ourselves . . . become apparent” (p. 273). This interface is better theorized as a “place of contradiction and tension” and a site of “constant negotiation” (Ibid.). Nakata suggests that Indigenous Studies is not just the study of Indigenous societies, histories, cultures, or contemporary issues, but also the study of “how we have been studied, circumscribed, represented, and how this knowledge of us is limited in its ability to understand us.” To study an Indigenous culture, then, is “inherently recursive” (Ibid.). Nakata posits that it is difficult to know and understand Indigenous people because of the mediation of Indigenous histories, knowledges, experiences, and social realities by the Western “corpus and their disciplines” (p. 272). I consider that Nakata’s theorizing is supported by descriptions provided by Whidden (2007) of the transformations of Cree musics, characterized by the give and take of historical encounter with Europeans, the influence of neighbouring Indigenous groups who themselves have had forms of encounter with Europeans, the socio-economic changes and changing lifestyles that accompany them, and, in 66  Nakata (2006) addresses the teaching of Indigenous Studies at the post secondary level, but I believe that his principles apply across educational jurisdictions. 62  current times, the massive influence of contemporary media (Whidden, 2007). Following Nakata’s theorizing and the observations of Whidden (and various other current ethnographers), I ask: In what ways should the teaching of an Indigenous culture’s music in a mainstream school curriculum also include the historical realities about the study, the sharing, the negotiation between Native and non-Native, the alteration, and/or the attempted eradication of this music? Relating Nakata’s ideas to specific research question #1, I would inquire about the variety of knowledges the mentors bring to the classroom and the mediations they engage in as they share these. Nakata observes that a breadth of Indigenous knowledges extend to the relationships of these knowledges to the many discourses which have impacted on them.67 I relate that Cree Elders, for example, issue concern over the presence of Western characteristics in powwows such as efficiency, strict timeliness, competition, didactic teaching (under the control of the MC), and flamboyance, all of which are contrary to Cree values and traditions (Whidden, 2007). It is difficult to pinpoint the demarcation between Western mediation and Indigenous knowledge. Iseke-Barnes (2009) writes about the need to break stereotypes and advises that students and teachers must focus on the reality of “what it means to be Indigenous in the 21st century” (p. 30). Consistent with this, music educators Burton and Dunbar-Hall (2002) argue that the teaching of contemporary music would serve as a form of post-colonial critique. They state, “where teachers lack the confidence to teach music systems which might not have been studied as part of their pre-service training, or where the ethical and religious implications of 67  When I review the various discourses describing Haudenosaunee cultures and I consider that knowledge has been ‘taught back’ to Haudenosaunee or other First People, Nakata’s theorizing makes sense. I understood Hani Kouni (from the textbook) to be an Iroquois song from the Mohawk community of Kahnawake. When I sang this to one of the mentors in the preliminary research who grew up in eastern Quebec, she uttered, “Oh yes, its Huron. I learned it from the nuns at the school I went to.” And then she sang it right through! 63  traditional musics are poorly understood, teaching through and about contemporary indigenous music presents music educators with a solution to a problem of inclusion” (p. 60). Burton and Dunbar-Hall argue that the lyrics of songs in contemporary Native American musics require an awareness of economic, political, and sociological aspects of Indigenous life in America (Ibid.). Such an approach supports Iseke-Barnes’ call for breaking stereotypes and Nakata’s proposal to consider the interface of the many elements that influence expression. Burton and Dunbar-Hall’s (2002) statement, “the mixtures of traditional Indigenous and contemporary sounds define a basic cultural practice of colonised peoples— the symbolic integration of and tensions between continuing tradition and the present” (p. 61) coheres with Nakata’s descriptions of complexity and tension, and the notion of music as continually evolving and adapting. However, Burton and Dunbar-Hall appear to regard the school teaching of musics of Indigenous people as a “problem.” Their “solution” precludes the necessity of trying to develop understandings that Iseke-Barnes (2009) calls for, understandings that one must develop in order to be able to interpret and understand complex ideas. Boyea (1999a), contrary to Burton and Dunbar-Hall, stresses that Native Americans value their musical heritage and want others to respect and understand it. She adds, “these desires are difficult ones, caught . . . in transitions, conflicts in understanding and problems of representation, integrity and respect” (p. 105). Boyea cautiously supports the sharing of Indigenous knowledge in fostering understanding of musics, but she warns that Indigenous people have multiple concerns about this sharing. She refers to a duality of cultural values; she labels this duality as a combined “preservation” culture, a conservative one that holds onto the past, and a “living” one which welcomes change (Ibid.). Boyea refers to a tension between an awareness of the history of the exploitation of music balanced simultaneously 64  with the dependency on well-meaning scholars who have the attention of those who can advocate for the maintaining of historical and musical accuracy, traditions, and proper use of Native musics (Ibid.). This notion of tension seems to agree with the multi-dimensional notion of interface that Nakata describes. As I consider Boyea’s accounting of racialized characterizations and cultural insensitivities in music collections and teaching, I observe that she reflects upon a complexity of several intermingling issues, a complexity that appears to be absent in Burton and DunbarHall’s “solution.” Boyea’s (2000) point that music should not be taught in isolation, but alongside social, cultural, or personal narratives (p. 15) reinforces the significance of relationality between music and other knowledges. She states that doing music well requires a “good heart” with understanding of what it is about, rather than skill or musical perfection (Ibid.). Boyea’s directions and concerns served as points for consideration as I observed the music and knowledge the mentors communicated as valued and significant when they taught music of their culture in this study. 2.3.2 Specific Research Question #2 What knowledge and teachings do teachers communicate as valued and significant as a result of their mentoring (and other related learning experiences if applicable) and what factors have the greatest impact in terms of increasing teachers’ understanding of Haudenosaunee music and culture? Two non-Indigenous music educators who have reported recently about their experience with the teaching and learning of musics of Indigenous cultures in Canada in institutional settings have both extended their focus beyond a singular concern with musical practice. Joan Russell (2006) was figuratively “mentored” by her pre-service teacher education students while she was their music education instructor on a temporary assignment 65  in Nunavut. Mary Kennedy (2009) attended the Earthsongs: Learning and Teaching in an Indigenous World pre-service teacher education course in which community members taught music and related cultural knowledge of local First Nations at the University of Victoria. Russell’s experience supports the notion of relationality and place as significant factors characterizing the learning of music and music stories. Russell observed and described her pre-service teacher education students experiencing songs and story as intimately connected to their Inuit identity and their traditional ways of life, rather than as musical “objects” for study or the development of musicianship.68 The students “translated” characters in European children’s songs and chants using language that had meaning within their cultural context. Russell (2006) notes the incompatibility between English terms (e.g., song, musician) and related conceptual understandings in Inuit music making (p. 29). To accommodate cultural and personal definitions related to music making in the Nunavut context, she defines “song, singing, music, musical stories to refer to any Inuit or qallunaat [White persons’] practice that involves rhythmic activity” (Ibid). What she terms “culture-based” music education, she asserts, challenges Western philosophies and assumptions about music education, as well as definitions of “what it means to be educated, musically and culturally” (Russell, 2007, p. 129) in the Nunavut environment. Kennedy (2009) stresses the importance of respecting and understanding principles associated with Lil’wat worldview in relation to the school teaching of music of that culture. Kennedy shares her process of learning (and some discomforts she experienced) as she negotiated between her (Western) musical values and expectations and the contrasting processes of teaching and learning associated with a First Nations culture. Kennedy’s writing 68  The development of musicianship, proposed in the praxial philosophy of music education put forth by Elliott (1995) is a primary purpose of musical learning, even in the “dynamic multiculturalism” context, in which Elliott proposes that music should be taught according to the context and meanings of the culture from which it comes. 66  exemplifies the discomforts that may arise when contrasting worldviews are juxtaposed. Both Russell and Kennedy contend that cultural learning, sometimes accompanied by these discomforts, is an integral aspect of this musical learning, and that established paradigms and values of music education are inappropriate when learning music from these cultures. Boyea (1999a, 2000) and Burton and Dunbar-Hall (2002) and scholars in other educational fields warn of the difficulties associated with cross-cultural teaching. Archibald (2008) describes her “gut wrenching reaction” when a non-Native woman told a First Nations story (p. 150) without regard for cultural protocols. She asks: “Whose story was it? Who gave permission to tell it? What culture did it come from” (Ibid.)? Likewise, Farr Darling identifies three principles that should accompany the teaching of trickster tales: They should enhance appreciation and respect for a culture; they should increase students’ historical and geographical knowledge base; and, they should familiarize students with the language and dialects of a culture (in Iseke-Barnes, 2009, pp. 43-44). Can the same be said of music instruction? Relating these various perspectives to my research, I ask: What aspects of music, or other cultural knowledge, resound as significant for the teachers in my study? What further learning does mentoring stimulate the teachers to seek? What impact does this learning have on the teachers’ conceptions of their own knowledge growth? Do teachers experience any epistemological “discontinuities” and discomforts such as those described by music educators Kennedy and Russell? Do they sense any wider discrepancies such as those outlined by Indigenous scholars when describing the epistemic collisions experienced by Native students? 2.3.3 Specific Research Question #3 In what ways does the knowledge communicated as valued by Haudenosaunee mentors and artists compare to that which teachers communicate as valued and significant? 67  I have found no research literature that directly addresses this question in the field of music education within any First Nations context. Data from Questions #1 and #2 will be compared in order to answer Question #3. However, it is instructive to note disparities that exist between values held by music education scholars and those of members of Indigenous communities. For example, the idea of an “authentic” or “pure” Haudenosaunee song may not be of the same concern to a cultural practitioner that it may be to a music educator; a community member’s understanding of authenticity may be embedded with cultural meanings and values (Diamond, Cronk, & von Rosen, 1994) that are distant from a music educator’s concept of authenticity. Yet the issue of authenticity is thought by music educators to be a key factor meriting consideration when including musics in a “multicultural” music education (Woodford, 2005; Elliott, 1995; Labuta & Smith, 1997). Woodford (2005), for example, holds that the notion of authenticity is problematic since it is difficult if not impossible not to “dilute” non-Western musics (p. 132). This suggests to me a conception of musical authenticity based on a dichotomy (i.e., music is either pure or it is diluted) that discounts musical variances and historical sharing.69 Reimer (2002) similarly lists authenticity as one of the key issues to be considered in “world” music education. He asks “what, exactly, defines a culture’s music” (p. 5). Authenticity, however, is integrated within meanings and values that are “lived” within a culture (Diamond, Cronk, & von Rosen, 1994); these meanings and values may differ radically from notions that emanate from music theorists’ epistemic frameworks. In considering specific research question #3, I will attend to contrasting perspectives 69  This also calls into question whether fusions and hybrid genres of music are “authentic.” It suggests to me that authentic music may be conceptualized by some music educators as “traditional” music associated with music of the past. Donald (2008) observes that dualistic “either/or” thinking and a tendency towards viewing ideas as segregated dichotomies is typically embedded among those of us with a Western way of viewing the world. 68  about emergent notions or issues that the participants identify. 2.3.4 Specific Research Question #4 In what ways have aspects of a teacher’s pedagogy and practice been challenged and/or changed as a result of this mentoring (and other related learning experiences), and what are the factors that have given rise to these challenges or changes? There is no specific research on this topic in the field of music education. However, Kanu (2005) has studied teachers’ attitudes about and conceptions of the integration of Aboriginal perspectives in the curriculum in three Winnipeg inner city secondary schools. A number of Kanu’s findings in her study of ten teachers who teach social studies and English language arts, one who is Ojibwe and nine who are of English background, have informed my consideration of this research question. She notes that teachers often credit some transformational experience with motivating them to change their teaching practice. This transformation may come as a result of knowledge taught by another, or through a “dawning awareness” that comes as a teacher deals with conflicting knowledge. Conceptual change theory suggests that changing teachers’ beliefs depends upon their recognizing discrepancies between their own views and contrasting ones (Ibid.). However, to make a change, Kanu notes, teachers must believe that there is a good reason for doing so. Kanu found several factors limiting the White teachers’ integration of Aboriginal perspectives in their curricular practices. Chief among these was a lack of cultural knowledge and understanding. This knowledge deficit led to other factors which further exacerbated the restriction of integration, such as lacking understandings about their Aboriginal students and their culturally related learning needs. These factors “seriously compromised teachers’ ability to act as ‘cultural brokers’ . . . able to negotiate . . . between two cultures” (Ibid., p. 57). McPherson notes that encounters with difference can generate an uncomfortable sense of 69  strangeness, and, as a result, dissonant knowledge tends to be subverted (in Kanu, 2005, p. 58). Accompanying the knowledge deficit was a lack of confidence and teachers’ feelings that they did not have the right to teach such knowledge and values associated with it. Insufficient materials and funds, racism among school staff and students, and a lack of connection to the Aboriginal community were also cited as factors limiting knowledge integration. The teacher of Ojibwe background and an Ojibwe teaching assistant noted other school structures that prevent integration. They described the “incompatibility between the school’s rigid approach to dealing with time and Aboriginal people’s more flexible view of time” (Ibid., p. 62). This rigidity is incompatible with culturally based teaching methods and the integration of knowledge across subject-defined disciplines. This Ojibwe teacher described the “‘tyranny of time’ and how the clock time controlled everything in Western culture to the extent that people did not listen to their bodies or their emotional and spiritual needs” and held that principles such as non-interference are not supported in school teaching methods (Ibid., p. 62). Kanu studied perspectives of Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal participants; the differences among them are illustrative of contrasting knowledge systems and notions of teaching and learning. However, Kanu notes several factors that facilitate change in teacher practice. These include effective professional development programs, mentoring, a supportive school climate (in terms of physical, temporal, and curricular structures), and attitudes that support change (Ibid.). Although Kanu’s study does not address the integration of musical knowledge or include participants who teach music, it brings to light several factors that inhibit and promote change in a teacher’s practice. Shkedi and Nisan hold that teachers “take principles from the proposed curriculum and put them into their own narrative contexts in a way that they find familiar and acceptable” 70  (quoted in Cherubini, 2009, p. 16). Cherubini suggests that teachers share with their students their own experiences of reframing epistemic realities, a position also put forth by Hermes (2004). This may alleviate their concern with being thought a fraud, or with feeling they are teaching that which they have “no business” teaching. This also seems to cohere with Nakata’s theorizing about the inherently recursive nature of Indigenous Studies, and, in this, examining the ways in which Indigenous knowledge has been impacted by other influences and ideologies. Such exposure could “kindle the genuine engagement of Aboriginal students in curriculum and school” (Cherubini, 2009, p. 16) and bring to light epistemic discontinuities that they may experience. The study of contemporary musics, as advocated by Burton and Dunbar-Hall (2002), may be conducive to such engagement. The findings in Kanu’s (2005) study and the suggestions offered by Cherubini (2009) provide insights that relate to specific research question #4, as I would study ways in which the three teachers’ pedagogies and practices might become challenged or changed and the factors that would give rise to this. 2.3.5 General Research Question What do school teachers need to know in order to teach musics of a Haudenosaunee culture in culturally respectful and appropriate ways to students of diverse cultural backgrounds in mainstream schools? I have found no previous research pertaining to this general research question and relating to the teaching the music of Haudenosaunee/Iroquois people or any other Aboriginal cultural group in Canada. However, the perspectives provided by educators such as Kennedy (2009), Russell (2006), and Boyea (1999a, 1999b, 2000) and research findings such as those provided by Kanu (2005) provide insight, while it must be remembered that the cultural knowledge they describe is not Iroquoian and the communities and institutions in which they conducted their research differ from those in this research. 71  Need, for the purposes of my research, is determined according to the perspectives of all participants and calls upon the values and knowledge that they bring to the classroom. Investigating these contrasting perspectives of need might provide a view of “challenging truth claims” of which Gadamer (2004) speaks, that is, differences in perspectives of need. My study would essentially be a study of differing conceptions of need and the ways in which these conceptions would be acted upon. Haig-Brown (2008) challenges educators to confront their own epistemic and ontological assumptions in the face of Indigenous knowledge and thought, as they consider the externally imposed requirement (or need) to include First Nations, Métis, and Inuit “cultures, histories, and perspectives” (i.e., OME, 2007) in their teaching. Haig-Brown posits that, for educators, the challenge of the policy framework represents having to transcend taken-for-granted organizational and conceptual arrangements of what it means to teach and learn. Reflecting on the contrasting notions of teaching and learning described in the first part of this chapter, I would attend in this study, not only to the ways in which the mentors would teach in the classroom, but also to the ways that teachers would re-consider their own teaching approaches. Like Gadamer, Haig-Brown posits that one must develop awareness of one’s prejudices if one is to understand the truths of another. In order to appreciate the meaning of “respectful and appropriate ways” of teaching music of a First Nation, it would follow that teachers (including myself) would engage in self-reflection about our practices and understandings. 2.4 Summary In this chapter I have “visited” fields of study that are intersected by my research and discussed literature pertaining to my research questions. Notions that recur in the literature about Indigenous knowledge, such as the strong connection to place, the notion of time based 72  on ontological values and natural cycles, the spiritual grounding of knowledge and being, and the significance of balance and connection to others, are also represented in expressions of Haudenosaunee worldview. I have presented literature describing comparisons between Indigenous (including Haudenosaunee) and Western ways of knowing and their related notions of teaching and learning. I have observed two themes that emerged in my review of literature pertaining to musics of Iroquoian and other Aboriginal cultures and communities that relate to this study: the relationship between music and Indigenous ways of knowing and the relationship between music-making and impacts of colonization. Ethnomusicologists (e.g., Diamond, 2008; Whidden, 2007), Indigenous theorists (e.g., Nakata, 2002), and Indigenous scholars (e.g., Valaskakis, 2005) observe that cultural knowledge of people in Indigenous communities is characterized by variances according to lived experience, is mediated by social and cultural fluidity, and is influenced by wider social and cultural change. Yet integral values of a cultural group continue to remain central within communities (Diamond, 2008; Whidden, 2007). Notions of “traditional” music evolve as musics are shared cross-culturally and transform over time. Descriptions of Indigenous knowledge and the teaching of it as interconnected, spiritually infused, and ethically inscribed, contrast with the focus in provincial music curricula (e.g., Ontario Ministry of Education, 2009c) on music knowledge and skills. This review of literature highlights the differences between Indigenous and Western ways of knowing, teaching, and learning and scholars’ descriptions of interfaces between them. It also highlights the discrepancies between the representation of music of First Peoples in curricular materials and scholars’ descriptions of the sharing and expression of music in an Indigenous community or context. In this chapter, I have reviewed literature that brings to light issues that may have 73  underlain sources of tension I felt as a music teacher and that inform my study. In the next chapter, I describe the ways in which I planned to conduct this research and I share the conceptual frameworks from which I have drawn, informed by the ideas, issues, and knowledge discussed in this chapter.  74  CHAPTER 3: METHODOLOGY 3.1 Introduction Through programs of mentoring that I had already observed, I knew that Aboriginal educators actively promoted school mentoring programs in order to reduce knowledge deficits among teachers and their students in mainstream schools. The overall goal of my study was to ascertain culturally appropriate ways in which music and related knowledge of one First Nations cultural group might be included in school music classrooms, and in conjunction with this, to study the processes and conditions in which teachers would include these in their practice. In this chapter, I describe my research method, and I explain the influence of critical and constructivist theoretical frameworks that informed my thinking about it (in section 3.2). I entered into this research with a strong conviction of the need for it; however, I knew that this research must be conducted in culturally respectful ways (LaDuke, 2005; Smith, 1999; Kovach, 2009; Wilson, 2008) and be of value and use to a First Nation community. As I discuss the conceptual frameworks underlying my approach to this research, the coherence between these frameworks and my method, and the design of the case study (in section 3.3), I integrate ways in which I have tried to consider and incorporate respectful research practices. 3.2 Theoretical Frameworks 3.2.1 Critical I was particularly drawn to critical pedagogy after attending a lecture given by Joe Kincheloe on a theme entitled “Interrogating Empire” in 2008.70 Kincheloe posited that representations of a generalized “larger education for the empire” were characterizing cultural 70  This lecture and panel discussion was presented at the Canadian Society for Studies in Education annual conference, Sunday, June 1, 2008, University of British Columbia, Vancouver. 75  pedagogy in the U.S. He portrayed these as being grounded “on a post-enlightenment delineation of the Western empire’s superiority” based on a colonial epistemology or “White reason.” His discussion of the “quashing of difference” in current educational practices resonated with Battiste and Henderson’s (2000) description of “cultural imperialism,” and his utterance that educators “don’t understand the impact of this on the psyche of those of difference” reflected Hodson’s (2007) and Battiste and Henderson’s (2000) descriptions of the devastating impacts of cultural and epistemic incongruities on Aboriginal youth. Kincheloe’s warning of an era of increasing “cultural positivism” with its tendency of cultural decontextualization reflected the concerns issued by numerous Indigenous scholars about universalizing and homogenizing trends in education (e.g., Battiste, 1998; Marker, 2006; Ball, 2004). He reiterated concerns issued by Indigenous theorists (e.g., Grande, 2004) about imperialist ideologies in educational systems in the U.S. that counteract the needs of Native Americans. I gravitated towards critical pedagogy as I considered epistemic discontinuities, exclusions, and disjunctures between knowledge systems as these applied to music education. I had been similarly impressed by Deborah Bradley’s (2006) anti-racist critique of elements of music education and her effort to begin to “decolonize our understandings of multiculturalism in music education” (p. 2) as a prerequisite of a more socially just music education pedagogy. Bradley theorizes that talking about race is “uncomfortable territory” (p. 7) for most White people. She argues, “normative centering of whiteness in Canada, indicated in the term visible minority, allows hegemonic whiteness to remain unnamed” (p. 8). Being White means being “normal.” I thought of Kincheloe’s phrase “those of difference” and considered the facile tendency to view otherness from the position of the normative White center. Bradley posits that multicultural music education “as a product of discourses of both music and multiculturalism continues as a racialized project that produces and reproduces 76  racialized understandings of the music of the world” (p. 11). Her description of the tendency of music educators, including proponents of multicultural music education, to draw “indigenous musical practices into western musical referents” (p. 11) cohered with my observations of music education materials. Multicultural interventions “served to celebrate otherness and diversity within narrowly construed notions of shared values and assimilable ways of life” (McCarthy, Crichlow, Dimitriatis, & Dolby, in Bradley, 2006, p. 12). Similar to Kincheloe, Bradley asserts that, as educators, we are part of a system that has perpetuated racism (p. 13). Critical multiculturalists in music education (e.g., Abrahams, 2005), following the anti-colonial and anti-oppression critical pedagogy conceptualized by Paolo Freire, advocate an approach toward teaching music of diverse cultures that interrogates power imbalances and the control of knowledge by those in positions of power. Critical multiculturalists hold that commonly used approaches to multicultural practices obscure issues of inequality, focus on the other, and neglect the embedding of discourses of power in educational settings (Johnston, Carson, Richardson, Donald, Plews, & Kim, 2009). They observe that teachers tend not to interrogate their own cultural location; this creates significant barriers to establishing inclusive and open learning environments (Ibid.). In music education, we teach songs of Indigenous nations without acknowledging the colonizing, assimilative, and racialized practices that may have simultaneously impacted people and communities (Bradley, 2006). I reflect that, when Alan Mills “collected” the song he entitled Iroquois Lullaby from the Kahnawake Mohawk community in the 1950s, the revised Indian Act of 1951 continued to maintain the federal government’s power to define Indian status, maintain paternalistic forms of control, and continue the policy of assimilation (Makarenko, 2008). This kind of knowledge is not included in music education materials that I surveyed. 77  Critical pedagogy provides a conceptual lens from which to “gaze” critically at music education practices and conceptual categories such as multiculturalism; it coheres with antiracist and critical multicultural discourses.71 With its wider critical disposition, critical pedagogy questions curricular decisions that support the maintenance of power structures (Kincheloe, 2008a, p. 14), welcomes Indigenous epistemologies that counter dominant epistemological paradigms (p. 26), and challenges researchers to examine their assumptions and research practices (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003, p. 447; Johnston et al., 2009). Each of these cohered with the critical nature of my study, particularly in light of discrepancies and disparities that I experienced, observed, and reviewed. Critical pedagogy critiques the exercise of the Gramscian notion of hegemony (Nelson, Treichler, & Grossberg, 1992, p. 8; Kincheloe, 2008a) in the educational arena, the wider social/cultural arena, or the specific arena of research; it harmonizes with processes of decolonization.72 However, I found that critical pedagogy did not attend to the question I asked at the start of my research. What should music educators teach as they teach musics of First Peoples? McCarthy et al. call for the “capacity for intervention” in which educators reimagine possibilities of practice (in Bradley, 2006, p. 24) and move towards “a real inclusiveness that engages students and the communities in which they live” (p. 24). Such engagement calls for the developing of understanding of specific cultural knowledge. This brings me to the complementary framework underlying this study. 71  Notably, scholars and music educators define multicultural practices in music education differently, use various terms such as “ethnic” or “world music” education, and interpret the meanings and implications of multicultural education in various ways (Miralis, 2006). As Sleeter and Grant state: “multicultural education means different things to different people” (in Miralis, 2006, p. 54 italics in original). 72 Decolonization, for many Indigenous researchers, includes the use of research paradigms that are situated within Indigenous epistemologies (e.g., Rigney’s (1999) Indigenist Methodologies and Graveline’s (2000) Circle as Methodology). My research method differs from these paradigms. 78  3.2.2 Constructivist The panel on which Joe Kincheloe sat at the 2008 conference presentation also included Indigenous scholar Dwayne Donald, who spoke about the need expressed by Indigenous leaders for the “deconstruction of walls of separation, exclusion, and isolation” that continue to form around their communities (Donald, 2008). Similar to Kincheloe, Donald posited that the nature and character of knowledge in education had been almost exclusively defined by Western powers and added that the “talk of equality, freedom and universality” affiliated with liberal democratic values obscures the “ingeniously brutal from of subordination” and the willful ignoring of Native North Americans in educational and wider social contexts. He problematized various notions based on Western epistemologies that further separate and restrict understanding, such as the notion of dichotomy and what he termed the prevailing influence of dichotomization that characterizes colonial logic (Ibid.). Polarized opposites, he posited, create a constrained view of the world in contrast with the notion of “complex simultaneity” where phenomena can simultaneously embody multiple meanings and affiliations. He explained that, in Blackfoot Cree thought, dichotomies are considered as part of a “contradictory nature of existence” within which there exists a natural unpredictability with many degrees of nuance. He noted that Elders often speak of dualities in terms of a more of fluxive movement creating a sense of temporary balance. As I reflected upon the topic “Interrogating Empire,” discussed by Kincheloe, a White critical pedagogue, and Donald, an Indigenous scholar sharing Cree perspectives, I envisioned a natural and necessary synthesis of a critical and constructivist orientation to my research. I considered that the element of criticality in this research would be pragmatic if it were accompanied by a concerted effort to understand ways of knowing, teaching, and learning based on a cultural worldview as this affiliated with music and the sharing of it with others. 79  These frameworks intersect. A constructivist, like a critical theorist, listens to multiple voices and attends to contrasting epistemologies and experiences. Denzin and Lincoln (2003a) state: The constructivist paradigm assumes a relativist ontology (there are multiple realities) [and] a subjectivist epistemology (knower and respondent co-create understandings) . . . Findings are usually represented in terms of the criteria of grounded theory or pattern theories. (p. 35) I was drawn to the hermeneutic, dialectical approach of constructivist inquiry (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003b, p. 247; Schwandt, 2003) since this approach, as conceptualized by Gadamer (2004), addresses conceptual notions, ideas, and concepts that problematize crosscultural work. I considered that, as I examined a concept or question (e.g., What does a music teacher need to know?), I would be interested in contrasting perspectives relating to this question and the language embedded within it. The underlying purpose of philosophical hermeneutics is the constructing of understanding and the awareness of the processes, strongly developed through dialogue, in which understanding takes place. Geertz characterizes the hermeneutic circle as: A continuous dialectical tacking between the most local of local detail and the most global of global structure in such a way as to bring both into view simultaneously . . . Hopping back and forth between the whole conceived through the parts that actualize it and the parts conceived through the whole which motivates them, we seek to turn them, by a sort of intellectual perpetual motion, into explications of one another” (Geertz, quoted in Schwandt, 2003, p. 299). I understood that this hermeneutic “tacking” would be commensurate with the experiential broadening of my cultural understandings in conjunction with my appreciation of the experiences of the mentors and teachers who participated in this study. Tacking would involve engaging with perspectives that each group, teachers and mentors, brought to the interactions I would observe and/or engage in.  80  Gadamer conceptualized “understanding” as what may be produced through dialogue and through language. Ongoing “conversation” would support “deep-listening” (Haig-Brown, 2008) and would include listening to the stories of those who come from a community (Marker, 2000). Gadamer’s idea of understanding, as always evolving and never complete, as built upon non-dominated “conversations” and continuous dialectic, and “as a practically oriented mode of insight . . . irreducible to any simple rule or set of rules . . . and that is always oriented to the particular case at hand” (Malpas, 2009), was commensurate with my approach towards this research as a study of contrasting perspectives. It cohered with my developing conceptualization of Indigenous knowledge as localized and fluid, based on the contextualized and the particular, and focused on maintaining states of harmony and balance (Donald, 2008; Kovach, 2009). Gadamer emphasized that the work of hermeneutics was not to develop a procedure of understanding but to clarify the conditions in which understanding would take place (in Schwandt, 2003, p. 302). 3.3 The Method 3.3.1 Case Study I planned to study examples of school mentoring in which a mentor and a teacher partnered in a mentoring event that took place in the teacher’s school and where the mentor taught music and related cultural knowledge of his or her Iroquoian background.73 The inclusion of paired participants in this research design, one representing “school” culture (i.e., the teacher), and one representing an Iroquoian culture or community (i.e., the mentor) harmonized with the constructivist focus on multiple realities and cohered with my objective of co-constructing knowledge with participants about the development of understanding from their contrasting positions. Through dialoguing with the teachers as well as the mentors, I 73  I define a “mentoring event” as an in-class teaching event in which the mentor, teacher, and students are present and in which the mentor teaches music, and/or knowledge associated with that music. 81  would set out to evaluate the conditions that would either promote or limit change in teaching pedagogy and practice. In line with the critical orientation, I planned that I would explore structural, pedagogical, or other elements that might inhibit or influence this. Adopting simultaneously a constructivist and a critical lens, I would attend to similarities and differences between the mentors, between the teachers, and between a mentor and teacher in terms of the knowledge they shared and the learning they identified, and the changes affiliated with these. However, case study, as a research method, requires that the researcher define structural elements such as the boundaries of the case and criteria for choosing participants (Merriam, 1998); this expectation would become problematic in some ways. Such defining in cross-cultural and cross-colonial research reinforces power differentials and suggests elements of researcher control that contrast with the need for control of research by Indigenous participants (Smith, 1999; Wilson, 2008; Kovach, 2009). Difficult questions would emerge relating to colonialist implications of my constructing research parameters that involved “defining” a person according to cultural affiliation or ethnic background.74 I had learned in the preliminary research of complexities associated with establishing parameters for choosing and identifying research participants, and I was concerned with the inappropriateness with my defining criteria for the mentors’ participation (Smith, 2005). On what basis does one claim to be Haudenosaunee? Or Iroquois? I could not assume cultural affiliation because a participant  74  My concerns were compounded by my awareness of contentious issues regarding community membership. State-imposed identification based on blood quantum (meaning the degree or percentage of one’s “bloodline” that is of Native descent) and lineage has ramifications that continue to be experienced within Iroquoian communities today. In some Mohawk communities, tribal councils have re-enacted blood quantum rules (Valaskakis, 2005, p. 234). Kahon:wes argues that citizenship as a Mohawk, adhering to principles of the Great Law, provides grounds for Mohawk identity regardless of other factors. (Retrieved Feb. 28, 2011 from http://www.kahonwes.com/blood/citizen.htm) 82  lived in a particular territory, or that cultural affiliation necessarily reflected one’s ethnic heritage.75 I was not in a position to determine who was a legitimate knowledge holder or what this meant in a community context. Smith (1999) calls for flexibility in one’s approach when researching with members of an Indigenous community. The only appropriate way for me to conduct this research would be to adjust some case study boundaries according to the suggestions of Indigenous participants. For example, a mentor suggested including non-Iroquoian participants in the research. It would also call for my following suggestions of community members such as learning about Iroquoian culture. This included not only reading materials they provided, but also learning about respectful protocols. As Smith (2005) maintains, respect “embraces quite complex social norms, behaviors, and meanings” (p. 98) as well as protocols particular to a community (p. 15). I would often wonder, when attending community social dances or after a conversation, if I had been respectful in my language or actions.76 Case study provided a useful framework but needed to be modified as Indigenous participants advised, or as my intuition and associated learning directed me. I needed to be vigilant, sensitive, forthright, and transparent (Piquemal, 2001) in all aspects of my research. 3.3.2 Personal Reflective Ethnography The focus on the development of understanding, as conceptualized by Gadamer (2004), became all the more significant as I considered some of the changes in my understandings and as I found myself comparing new learning to my own worldview. The 75  Some community members who followed Haudenosaunee traditional practices, originally from other First Nation backgrounds, were married into or adopted into the community. 76 My occasional use of certain words, such as Indigenous, seemed out of place, perhaps construed as derogatory. What might seem to be simple gestures seemed problematic. Where would I obtain tobacco to offer as a gift of appreciation? I had learned that money should not be exchanged for tobacco. Was sweetgrass an appropriate gift instead? Gift giving and reciprocity had meanings I was unfamiliar with while I grappled with understanding ways of showing appreciation and respect. 83  values that I had first focused on in the mentoring projects of the preliminary research only partially meshed with the values and goals of others who had interest in them. Kincheloe (2008a) calls for “[stepping] outside of one’s shoes” as a critical pedagogue while trying to understand the position and perspective of another. Gadamer argues that traditions “shape what we are and how we understand the world” and that we cannot escape our own standpoints and biases (in Schwandt, 2003, pp. 301-302). Understanding requires engagement with one’s own biases (Ibid.) even though, as Battiste and Henderson (2000) argue, members of a dominant society are often not aware of the “voices of truth” (p. 13) that inscribe their thought processes. I considered that personal reflection and a personal “dialectical encounter” (Bernstein, in Schwandt, p. 302) would be integral components of this study, particularly after I engaged with new learnings and tried to make sense of them. While Piquemal (2001) and Smith (1999) advocate that one must make a concerted effort to understand a culture when engaging in research with members of a community, Boyea (1999b) emphasizes that, for Native North Americans, musics are inseparable from worldview and lifeways (p. 105). Following the preliminary research, I continued to attend and participate in some musical and other cultural events in Woodview and other communities. These experiences contributed to my cultural understandings and added meaning to cultural expressions I would later observe in classroom mentoring. My role would be that of both researcher and learner. Personal reflection would challenge me, as a researcher, to examine my assumptions, language, and ways of perceiving knowledge (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003, p. 447) and to reflect upon changes in my understandings as I engaged in my own learning and observed that of others.  84  3.3.3 Method Summary As well as a “conversation” with the case study participants, I conceptualized this research as a “conversation” with myself about my own learning. I decided to maintain a journal outlining my reflections and experiences as I participated in cultural events and as I engaged in related learning during this study. As is conventional practice in case study method, I planned to incorporate observation, participant-observation, and interview with First Nation mentors teaching music in school classrooms and teachers received this mentoring, who, I expected, would continue to teach this music following the mentoring. I decided to complement these methods with a brief questionnaire for the teacher participants in order to ascertain what knowledge sources they considered influential in their learning. I had learned from the preliminary research that the combination of classroom observation and interviews in conjunction with paired-participant design and the mirroring of questions in interviews with teachers and mentors effectively illuminated differences in perspectives. 3.4 Case Study Research Design and Description The pairing of mentor and teacher participants would prove to be a significant element in my case study design. Both the teacher and at least one mentor who took part in a mentoring event would need to agree to participate in this study in order for either to be included; thus, this paired feature would influence the selection of participants. It would also impact the way I identified participants, their communities, and their affiliations in my reporting of the research; I explain this in the following paragraphs.  85  3.4.1 Participant Selection and Anonymity My criteria for the selection of teachers were: (1) they taught in elementary or secondary level mainstream schools; (2) they were interested in learning and teaching about music of a First Nation; (3) they participated in a school mentoring event within the last two years or would be participating in a mentoring event during this period of research; and (4) they were mentored in the classroom by a mentor who was a participant in this study. My original criteria for the selection of mentors were: (1) they were from Iroquoian communities and/or backgrounds; (2) they were knowledgeable about their cultural background; (3) they performed music of Iroquoian culture or were recognized by the Woodview community as being culturally knowledgeable; and, (4) they had mentored or were about to mentor in the mainstream school classroom with a teacher in this study. As I noted in the previous section, I adjusted the criteria for the selection of mentors as advised by one mentor after I began the study, and I subsequently included two mentors who were not Iroquoian. The knowledge shared by these additional participants would prove to be significant in several ways, as I will discuss later. School district regulations concerning information privacy called for the teachers’ identities to be anonymous in research reports. Due to my need to describe the teachers’ and mentors’ practices, this regulation would significantly impact my reporting about this research. Yet, in Indigenous contexts, the notion of anonymity is often considered inappropriate, contrary to cultural notions of relationship and accountability (Wilson, 2008). I wrestled with finding a way of respecting these relational values while complying with the need to protect identities. Some mentors indicated that I did not need to keep them anonymous in my report. However, if I were to protect the identity of the teachers I also needed to conceal the identity of all participants. After some struggles with this, I concluded 86  that this also necessitated concealing the identity of the schools, the school district, and the Iroquoian community, owing to the proximity between the schools and that community. As a result, I assigned pseudonyms to all of them (and used those chosen by participants). This also restricted the amount of local (place-based) knowledge I could include. In the following section, I generally describe the case study research sites and participants. 3.4.2 Case Study Sites The schools are located in rural or semi-rural locales. Each school had a relatively small student population at the time of this research, yet drew students from a large geographic area. Cedar Valley and Ash Grove schools, both Kindergarten to Grade 8 schools, had student populations of roughly 200 students; Linden High School had about 400 students. Ash Grove Public and Linden High School are located within a half-hour drive (about 40 kilometers) from each other and are each located within a half hour drive from the Woodview community.77 Students from Woodview attend both schools. The student and staff populations of these schools were primarily of European background; there was little visible racial diversity. Ash Grove and Linden schools each had about 12 Aboriginal students, several of whom were from Woodview. Fewer than half of these students self-identified as Aboriginal in the school district’s voluntary self-identification program. Ash Grove School, in a rural area, is surrounded by natural bush with abundant trees, plants, and wildlife; students are permitted to enjoy the bush using paths cleared through it next to the playground area. Linden High School is located in the residential area of a small town. Cedar Valley School, the third school in this study, is situated in another area of the Forest School District distant from Woodview and the other schools. It is located on the 77  Ash Grove Public School is located closer to the Woodview community. 87  outskirts of a mid-sized town, with natural bush nearby. This school similarly featured little visible racial diversity among the students and staff. No students self-identified as Aboriginal; however, at least six students were known by the school principal to be of Aboriginal background. Two Ojibwe reserves are located within 80 kilometers of Cedar Valley School. 3.4.3 Participants The teachers The three teachers, as shown in Table 3.1, identify themselves as being of European-Canadian heritage. Ashlie and Lindie, both in their mid-thirties, had each taught in one school whereas Cedar had taught in more than one school. Only Ashlie grew up in a region near the area where she lived and worked at the time of this study. Table 3.1 Teacher Participants Teacher Ashlie Lindie Cedar  Years taught Under 10  School Ash Grove Public School  Under 10 Over 20  Linden High School Cedar Valley Public School  Grades taught Senior elementary grades Grade 9 – 12 music Grade K – 8 music.  Other Responsible for teaching all school subjects but French. Teaches instrumental music, integrated arts, and music theatre. Directs percussion ensemble, teaches some other subjects.  The mentors The mentors were of Iroquoian background with the exception of Ann and Gerard.78 As shown in Table 3.2, all of the mentors except Linda have a primary occupation outside of their school mentoring work.  78  I did not ask a mentor about his or her other ethnic heritage as I considered that this might be disrespectful or invasive. Some mentors willingly shared this information during interviews. 88  Table 3.2 Mentor Participants Mentor Jim  Cultural Affiliation Iroquoian  Primary Occupation OPP Aboriginal Unit  Mentored with Ashlie  Ann  Ojibwe  OPP Aboriginal Unit  Ashlie  Gerard  Algonquin  OPP Aboriginal Unit  Ashlie  Jenny  Iroquoian  Social services  Ashlie  Lillian Rainfeather  Iroquoian  Stage and film actor, singer & songwriter  Lindie  Linda  Iroquoian  Lindie  Cary  Iroquoian  Cultural facilitator in schools Retail industry  Cedar  Other Leads Aboriginal cultural awareness programs and drum-making programs in on- and off-reserve schools and community centers. Leads community programs for Aboriginal youth and cultural awareness programs in on- and offreserve schools. OPP cultural trainer. Leads Aboriginal awareness programs programs in on- and off-reserve schools. Leads and sings in ladies singing group. Provides in-school cultural awareness programs and leads teacher workshops. Sings and songwrites in jazz and blues idioms. Sings traditional Haudenosaunee music. Performs in stage, screen, and television productions. Singer, storyteller, visual artist. Provides arts and cultural programs in on- and off-reserve schools. Provides cultural awareness programs in schools.  3.4.4 Ways of Acquiring Knowledge Classroom observation I observed three of the five classroom mentoring events that are reported on in this study.79 During the time that I was in the schools, I observed the pre-planned classroom  79  While I had visited Ashlie one year prior to this study and had observed her class singing and drumming on their newly made frame drums, I had not observed the mentoring event that preceded this. At that time, Ashlie spoke positively about this mentoring experience. I planned to study this mentoring event “after the fact” through interviewing Ashie and her mentors about it. The second mentoring event that I did not observe was made known to me by school district personnel who recommended I interview the teacher involved in it. Cedar 89  mentoring event that the teacher Ashlie and her mentor Jenny participated in at Ash Grove School. As I explained in Chapter 1 (section 1.6), I had also previously observed the two week-long mentoring events at Linden High School that mentors Linda and Lillian and the music teacher Lindie participated in. I also observed some teachers, to varying extents, engage in follow-up teaching either directly following their mentoring or months after it (as would be the case with Cedar). I recorded classroom observations of mentoring and follow-up teaching through a combination of field jottings and audio recordings. Other Observations I attended planning meetings, related school programs and concerts, and school district events in order to gain a wider understanding of the context of mentoring events that I observed. These also provided background about the design and expectations of these mentoring events from the perspectives of the Woodview community, the school district, other involved organizations (e.g., a funding arts organization), and the participants themselves. I studied scripts and DVD recordings of student performances and projects that resulted from the mentoring with Cedar and Lindie. Interviews I conducted semi-structured interviews with the mentors and the teachers (see Appendix B for interview scripts). I interviewed the teachers at their schools and each mentor at a place of his or her choosing. Teacher interviews averaged one hour in length, and interviews with the mentors ranged in length from 45 minutes to four hours. I asked all participants ahead of time if it was acceptable to them for me to record the interview on a digital recording device. They all agreed to this. I recorded telephone interviews by jotting would become the third teacher participant in this study. Teacher and mentor participants described to me the two mentoring events that I did not observe. 90  notes. I transcribed all interviews myself and delivered paper copies or sent emailed copies of the interview transcripts to all participants. Typing the transcriptions from the audio recordings was beneficial, as my repeated listening to a participant’s voice provided me with a more nuanced sense of meanings that may have underlain his or her words and brought those words and their emotional connections to life along with the impressions I immediately felt when hearing them. I now discuss my method according to each research question. My first specific research question was: What knowledge do mentors and artists communicate as valued and significant in relation to the teaching of music of Haudenosaunee people in the mainstream classroom and in what ways do mentors share this knowledge? “Communication” involves multiple modes of conveying knowledge and sharing ideas. In music, communication includes embodied expression through sharing that simultaneously encompasses physical, intellectual, spiritual, and emotional ways of knowing. My observation of mentoring would be a significant component of my research as it would incorporate these elements of communication. It called for my observation and, in some cases, my participation in singing, dancing, drumming, and moving as mentors taught in the classroom. The learning, such as I experienced in the drum-making program during the preliminary research, would provide an embodied knowledge that reiteration through words could not provide. The interviews following mentoring would provide a “revisiting” of the mentoring experience and would stimulate an exploration, from the participants’ perspectives, of some of the learning that I observed and experienced in the classroom. The interview script would provide a template for this exploration and resulting discussion. My second specific research question was: What knowledge and teachings do teachers communicate as valued and significant as a result of their mentoring (and other related 91  learning experiences if applicable) and what factors have the greatest impact in terms of increasing teachers’ understanding of Haudenosaunee music and culture? The teachers’ interview script similarly provided a template for discussion of a mentoring event and knowledge that the teacher considered to be significant. Teachers’ interviews would provide for an exploration of their perspectives of their learning. I set out to study processes of teaching and learning that the teacher (and I) experienced during a mentoring event. Related to this, if the teacher further invited me, I would observe her doing follow-up teaching or leading her class during a rehearsal or performance following mentoring. I expected that my observations would illustrate the embodied meanings that a teacher retained as a result of her mentoring or other related learning and might discuss during interviews. Attending school meetings, public concerts, and other school district events would complement my observations of any classroom teaching, as it would provide related background information that might influence classroom observations. I invited the teachers to complete the “knowledge source” questionnaire at the start of our interviews. I anticipated that their completion of this questionnaire, which would take only a few minutes, would not only provide information about “other sources of knowledge” that influenced their learning, but would secondarily jog the teachers’ memories as we engaged in interviews. (See Appendix B for questionnaire.) This information would be used as supporting data for specific research question 2. My third specific research question was: In what ways does the knowledge identified and communicated as valued and significant by Haudenosaunee mentors and artists compare to that which teachers communicate as valued and significant? Comparison of teachers’ and mentors’ responses to related questions would illuminate similarities and differences in knowledges they communicated as significant. I would use themes that developed from my 92  analysis of specific research question 1 as points of comparison. I would address this question through using constant comparative method (Merriam, 1998) and re-analyzing themes that emerged from my analysis of responses related to specific research questions 1 and 2, using wider connecting strategies. Notably, the mirroring of interview questions (e.g., questions 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6) facilitated comparisons. However, more in-depth discussion would bring to the surface other knowledge that might carry significance beyond these first responses. My fourth specific research question was: In what ways have aspects of a teacher’s pedagogy and practice been challenged and/or changed as a result of this mentoring (and other related learning experiences), and what are the factors that have given rise to these challenges or changes? The fact that four of the five mentoring events took place prior to my time in the schools, while having decreased my opportunity for observations of them all, would promote my study of the impact of past mentoring on the teachers’ current practices. I considered that the combination of past and present mentoring events in this study would provide useful comparative knowledge. I would attend to comments the three teachers made about insights they gained or discontinuities they experienced, particularly in relation to their responses to interview questions 4, 5 and 10. I would compare these responses to my classroom observations and to my reflectio