All Hands on Deck: The Humanitarian Musician and Beyond

One more dip back to the Conference, this one an overview of my workshop titled The Humanitarian Musician. The overall structure was based on three things:

 

What: Music teachers coming to workshops are hungry for new material and in the Orff world, that means a variety of games, chants, songs, body percussion, movement ideas, folk dances, Orff Ensemble arrangements, small group creative work. I made sure to give them all of the above, drawing from my extensive repertoire of tried-and-true fun, engaging and kid-friendly material. 

 

How: One of my specialties is to articulate the “how” of presenting the material so that it has a musical flow, shape and design, so the very unfolding of each activity in the class is like a piece of music, unburdened by needless explanations and excessive verbal directions. Just jump in the water and splash around! (All of which is given voice in my Teach Like It’s Music  book. ) There was barely a moment without direct music and movement engagement and when I did stop to talk a bit, I leaned on poetry, stories and dynamic ideas which charged the room with a different sort of artistic attention and involvement.

 

Why: As I mentioned in the workshop, Orff’s gift is also its mild curse. Because we love to jump in and learn about music by actively making music, there is often insufficient time spent reflecting on what we’ve done and how we’ve done it and why we’ve done it. The teacher then goes home to her or his class and copies the activities minus the deeper thinking behind them. But whether it’s discussing it as a group or thinking about it alone post-workshop, reflection is key. Why are we teaching this way? Why are we teaching? What is the greater purpose behind giving kids a fun class one or two times a week?

 

The workshop’s title suggest that it might be a good idea to consider using music as a vehicle to help create more humanitarian human beings. I began by praising music’s power to instantly and profoundly bring people together, that dancing in unison, singing in harmony, drumming with different rhythms intermeshing into a grander whole, is one of the most powerful ways to connect with fellow human beings. A lifetime spent proving this day after day with just about every population and grouping of people you can imagine has made the above a fact beyond dispute.

 

But there is a problem. The harmonious gathering on the stage, in the dancing circle, in the church choir is harmonious only as long as the music is playing. When it’s over, musicians and people who make music with others instantly become the flawed creatures we are, filled with jealousies, betrayals, judgement of others. Just look at Simon and Garfunkel, Lennon and McCartney, Ike and Tina Turner, all beautiful onstage together, all at each other’s throats when they stepped off the stage. Remember that Charles Manson was a musician. 

 

To move the idea of the Humanitarian Musician beyond its oxymoron potential, we have to consciously move the energy generated onstage to offstage, carry it out of the music class into the greater school and recess time, keep the Sunday choir singing in our hearts the rest of the week. We have to make explicit the values implicit in the activities. And so after each carefully chosen activity, I shone the light on those deeper teachings of connections, of feeling welcomed, valued, accepted, known, celebrated. Music alone cannot achieve social harmony, but it is a fabulous start, a compass, a North Star to guide us as we marry our intention to keep its affect present in all parts of our lives.

 

Meanwhile, in the workshop I thought it should be important to define my terms. This is what I read to the participants: 

 

“Humanitarianism is defined as “an active belief in the value of human life, whereby human beings practice benevolent treatment and provide assistance to other humans in order to improve the conditions of humanity for moral, altruistic and logical reasons.” 

 

The presence of that last clause indicates that a humanitarian perspective is optional. Now those “moral, altruistic and logical reasons” can be replaced with one word—“survival.” What a mere few decades ago felt like something only nice, generous people with time on their hands might consider has moved from luxury to necessity. The definition goes on:

 

“Humanitarianism is today primarily understood as voluntary emergency aid.” but strike the word “voluntary” and understand that the “emergency” is ongoing and we arrive at the proposition of this workshop: We are in a time of mandatory emergency aid. All people in all walks of life are called upon to nurture, develop, sustain and put into action their highest humanitarian impulses. 

 

And so we should consider what musicians and music educators can do far beyond teaching quarter notes and nice songs. How can we create musicians who are more humanitarian and how can music help everyone be both more musical and humanitarian?”

 

Dream with me here and imagine that every profession or field of study took this on. Taught their subject and organized their corporation as if humanitarianism mattered? Paraphrasing my most recent book, my workshop could have been titled “Orff, Joy & Justice.” But why stop here? What about “Accounting, Joy & Justice?” “Basketball, Joy & Justice?” “Farming, Joy & Justice?” You get the idea.

 

Some fields have the Justice without the Joy, some the Joy without the Justice, too many, neither the Joy nor the Justice. But what if we insisted that all three be present in whatever we do? To find the Joy in every endeavor and connect it to the Justice? To find the Justice and connect it to the Joy? To face the harsh reality that this truly is no longer an optional or personal choice endeavor, but a mandatory collective necessity? And yes, fear is present and by using words like “emergency” and “mandatory” it may scare us away from taking it seriously. But that’s what the “Joy” is for, because indeed it is joyful to gather together with collective purpose and celebrate each other. Yes, we need “all hands on deck” but it needn’t feel like a battleship nor an unceasing storm. 

 

Think about it. But don’t wait too long.