Structure and agency in university-level recreational

This article was downloaded by: [Boston University] On: 23 March 2013, At: 08:19 Publisher: Routledge Informa Ltd Registered in England and Wales Registered Number: 1072954 Registered office: Mortimer House, 37-41 Mortimer Street, London W1T 3JH, UK

Music Education Research Publication details, including instructions for authors and subscription information: http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/cmue20

Structure and agency in universitylevel recreational music making Roger Allan Mantie

a

a

Music Education, College of Fine Arts, Boston University, 855 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, MA, 02215, USA Version of record first published: 26 Sep 2012.

To cite this article: Roger Allan Mantie (2013): Structure and agency in university-level recreational music making, Music Education Research, 15:1, 39-58 To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/14613808.2012.722076

PLEASE SCROLL DOWN FOR ARTICLE Full terms and conditions of use: http://www.tandfonline.com/page/terms-andconditions This article may be used for research, teaching, and private study purposes. Any substantial or systematic reproduction, redistribution, reselling, loan, sub-licensing, systematic supply, or distribution in any form to anyone is expressly forbidden. The publisher does not give any warranty express or implied or make any representation that the contents will be complete or accurate or up to date. The accuracy of any instructions, formulae, and drug doses should be independently verified with primary sources. The publisher shall not be liable for any loss, actions, claims, proceedings, demand, or costs or damages whatsoever or howsoever caused arising directly or indirectly in connection with or arising out of the use of this material.

Music Education Research, 2013 Vol. 15, No. 1, 39"58, http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/14613808.2012.722076

Structure and agency in university-level recreational music making Roger Allan Mantie* Music Education, College of Fine Arts, Boston University, 855 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, MA 02215, USA

Downloaded by [Boston University] at 08:19 23 March 2013

(Received 30 July 2011; final version received 27 July 2012) The purposes of this study were to investigate the musical backgrounds, selfexpressed reasons for participation and possible implications for music education of collegiate recreational music makers (N!19) and their practices as they exist in two contrasting modes of musical engagement on the campus of a large urban research university: authority-led and student-led. Utilising the work of Pierre Bourdieu together with theories of leisure and participation I examine (1) relations of class as they exist in on-campus recreational ensembles and (2) reflexivity related to self-expressed reasons for participation. Analysis suggests that authority-led and student-led distinctions do not adequately account for recreational practices, and that recreational music makers are largely unaware that they share similar privileged backgrounds. Implications for music education are discussed. Keywords: lifelong participation; leisure; Bourdieu; habitus; recreation; music making

Mark (1996) has suggested that studying adult music activities might provide insights into music education beyond those attainable through studying school music instruction. Studying those who continue to be musically active beyond the school years, although not the only or necessarily the most important population of interest for researchers, should be of import for those who believe that school music should lead to tangible differences later in life (Jellison 2000; Myers 2008; Regelski 2005, 2006, 2007). Much music education research on recreational adult music making has been concerned with adult music makers and adult music making as intrinsic objects of interest (e.g. Coffman 1996, 2002, 2009; Dabback 2007; Griffith 2006; Kruse 2007; Park 1995; Rohwer 2005, 2010), with self-perceived benefits of music making (Kokotsaki and Hallam 2011), or with revealing motivations and/or characteristics of members (e.g. Busch 2005; Faivre-Ransom 2001; Mantie 2012; Palmer 2008; Spencer 1996; Young 2001). Although some literature was identified that considers socialisation effects on music participation later in life by non-music majors (e.g. Arasi 2006; Isbell and Stanley 2011; Mantie and Tucker 2008; Mountford 1977), more research is needed that accounts for the leisure (or non-vocational) practices of school music graduates. Specifically, more research is needed that accounts for how home and school experience manifests itself later in life. While research outside of music has considered the impact of social background on college enrollment (e.g. de *Email: [email protected] # 2013 Taylor & Francis


40 R.A. Mantie Carvalho 2001; Ma 2009; Perna and Titus 2005), music education research has tended to consider the relatively unproblematised construct of ‘parental involvement’ and its impact on motivation and retention (Davidson, Slobota, and Howe 1995/96; Faulkner, Davidson, and McPherson 2010; Sichivitsa 2003, 2007) or achievement and development (Creech 2010; Macmillan 2004; Moore, Burland, and Davidson 2003; Zdzinski 1992, 1996), especially as these apply to school age children. What is missing is a more nuanced understanding of how volitional choices later in life are the product of forms of socialisation. Arnett (2000) has theorised ‘emerging adulthood’ to explain how contemporary adulthood differs from traditional life stage theories, such as that of Erik Erikson. According to Settersten, Furstenberg, and Rumbaut (2005), contemporary adulthood is increasingly conceptualised not as a simple stage of life, but is characterised by a series of markers, such as, for example, no longer residing under parental care. Drawing on the work of Van Gennep and Victor Turner, Blatterer (2010) describes the beginning stage of contemporary adulthood as being liminal " not quite child, not quite adult (see also Arnett 2006). In the USA, the college/university years,1 involving for most students the first sustained period of independent living, provide a unique setting and temporal point for evaluating possible impacts of family and schooling on the volitional choices of this particular group of emerging adults. Whilst the college years can be considered an extension of the high school years, at least in an academic sense, a key difference is increased choice over discretionary (i.e. leisure) time. In this qualitative study I focused on the leisure practices of what I refer to as collegiate recreational music makers " i.e. college students who are nonmusic majors but who continue to be musically active in organised groups " on the campus of a large, private research university in the USA. Like Pitts (2009), I was particularly interested in the intersections of home and school life and how these potentially affect the music making activities of college students. By examining the practices of collegiate recreational music makers, a population temporally situated just beyond the school years, I sought to better understand, in light of home and school backgrounds, leisure choices at a stage of life where greater personal choice over leisure time is exercised. In addition to examining the connection between personal histories and recreational music making, I was also interested, following O’Toole (1997), in examining two contrasting modes of musical engagement on campus: authority-led and student-led, the former defined by ensembles with ‘qualified’, universityemployed music leaders. O’Toole (1997) claimed that due to previous positive experiences with the authority-led model, choir members become ‘intolerant’ of practices that do not conform to it (133). Because school music graduates in the USA are accustomed to rehearsing and performing in large ensembles under the leadership of a conductor/director, I hypothesised that collegiate recreational music makers would regard authority-led music making as the desired norm against which other practices, such as those based on greater ‘student voice’ (see Green 2008; Jaffurs 2004; Wright 2008) are viewed as inferior or undesirable, thus sustaining musical communities reliant on conductor-led models of music making. Shortly after beginning the research, however, it quickly became apparent that this distinction was insufficient, as the student-led ensembles, whilst technically ‘student run’, and operating not for credit (members in the authority-led groups could opt to receive university credit for their participation) still rehearsed under the direction of a single


Music Education Research 41 individual (the ‘MD’, or music director) vested with the musical responsibility for the group. Moreover, important differences emerged between the groups originally classified as authority-led. Hence, although the participants were originally sampled according to the dichotomous groupings of authority-led and student-led, the analysis was subsequently re-conceptualised according to various modes of engagement. There were, then, two separate but interconnected aims in this study. First, I wanted to better understand the leisure choices of music makers at the stage of emerging adulthood and how these may have been conditioned by previous home and school life experiences, and second, I wanted to interrogate how collegiate recreational music makers understood recreational music participation in light of traditional music education practices (i.e. authority-led large ensembles) in the USA. My specific research questions were: What similarities and differences in social and musical backgrounds exist among collegiate recreational music makers in various modes of engagement? In what ways do collegiate recreational music makers conceptualise their musical participation? How might the answers to these questions better inform music education practices in light of the Bourdieusian concepts of habitus, field, and capital and theories of leisure and participation? Background and framework In the sociological literature, cultural consumption practices are highly connected with matters of taste, a popular topic among sociologists of culture who, in recent years, have documented a shift whereby the marker of class in society has changed from a historical highbrow/lowbrow distinction to one now described as univore/ omnivore (Graham 2009; Peterson 1992, 1997; Peterson and Kern 1996; Santoro 2008). Graham (2009) has demonstrated that music education in the USA is correlated positively with greater omnivorousness in musical tastes. On the surface, broadening of musical tastes associated with music education appears positive. As Graham points out, however, economically advantaged schools typically support greater access to ‘quality’ music education offerings (see also Abril and Gault 2006; Smith 1997). ‘If this is indeed the case’, writes Graham, ‘we may witness a structural irony: the most economically advantaged groups in society will use the value of cultural openness to construct symbolic boundaries between themselves and those whose culture they consume to create this value’ (298). National Center for Education Statistics figures show that whites and those in upper socio-economic status quartiles are in fact over-represented in music education programs in the USA (Elpus and Abril 2011). Hence, not only do the benefits of music education accrue to those already advantaged, but music education practices further the advantage. French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu was one of the first to theorise ways in which the education system, both secondary and tertiary, reproduces class inequalities (DiMaggio 1979). ‘At the heart of Bourdieu’s work on higher education’, suggests Naidoo (2004, 457), ‘has been his desire to expose higher education as a powerful contributor to the maintenance and reproduction of social inequality’. Through his concepts of capital, habitus and field, Bourdieu sought an explanatory balance between structure and agency (Nash 1999). In this study I utilised the work of Bourdieu (Bourdieu 1977, 1984, 1993; Bourdieu and Passeron 1990), together with theories of leisure and participation (Gates 1991; Stebbins 1979, 1992, 1998) in order to (1) examine relations of class and privilege as they exist in on-campus recreational

42 R.A. Mantie ensembles " and by extension the music education profession, and (2) analyse reflexivity related to self-expressed reasons for participation. By reflexivity I mean the degree to which the participants’ musical engagement may be considered independent acts of fashioning what Stebbins (1992) calls a lifestyle. That is, I explore, in view of their sociocultural histories, the ways collegiate recreational music makers can be said to act mindfully, and the ways in which collegiate music ensembles reflect and sustain hegemonic relations of class and privilege.


Participation Despite the pioneering work of Max Kaplan (Kaplan 1955; see also: Leonhard 1952) and a lineage dating from the 1920s and 1930s (National Recreation Association 1926; Zanzig 1930), theories of leisure and participation have received relatively little attention from music education researchers. Gates’ (1991) adaptation of the work of Robert Stebbins stands as one of the first, if not entirely successful efforts (see Jorgensen 1993) to theorise participation in music education. Gates focused on one aspect of Stebbins’ work, the professional"amateur"public (or PAP) model, arguing that failings of music education programs can be attributed to a misguided overemphasis on using the professional model as the basis for curriculum and instruction. For the purposes of this study I focus primarily on Stebbins’ (1979, 1992, 1998) concepts of leisure and lifestyle, the latter of which he describes as: a distinctive set of shared patterns of behavior organized around a set of coherent interests or social conditions or both. Participants explain and justify these patterns with a set of related values, attitudes, and orientations which, under certain conditions, become the basis for a separate, common identity. (Stebbins 1998, 111)

Stebbins further distinguishes leisure, an activity ‘we intentionally choose because it brings us pleasure or, in more profound leisure, satisfaction’ (1998, 14), from serious leisure, activity that entails effort ‘based on specially acquired knowledge, training or skill’ (1998, 21). That is, various forms of serious leisure and their concomitant lifestyles are exclusive (if also quite often marginal).

Bourdieu Theories of leisure and participation assume a strong degree of agency. Bourdieu, however, rejected the idea that people act autonomously, arguing instead that shared social practices reflect shared habituses (see Baker and Brown 2007; Harker 1984; Nash 1999; Reay 2004; Reed-Danahay 2005) " habitus being a historically conditioned generative schema, analogous perhaps to that of an operating system of a computer that regulates possibilities in the background without our awareness. Although Bourdieu’s use of habitus morphed over his lifetime, he defined it originally as ‘systems of durable, transposable dispositions . . . collectively orchestrated without being the product of the orchestrating action of a conductor’ (Bourdieu 1977, 72). In Distinction, Bourdieu (1984) provided his theoretical formula that practice equals habitus multiplied by capital plus field. In other words, rather than the product of rational actors, a given practice can be considered the result of one’s social inheritance coupled with the necessary resources (capital in Bourdieu’s


Music Education Research 43 usage taking forms beyond just economic; e.g. cultural, social, symbolic) mobilised within an objectified field of play (Bourdieu 1993) " field in this sense referring to the dynamic relations between actors and organisations in a domain of sociocultural production (see DiMaggio 1979; Grenfell and James 2004; Naidoo 2004). Much of Bourdieu’s work is based on the belief that people tend to associate with, and seek out, people similar to themselves (Bottero 2010). That people’s activities tend to coagulate along class lines (which invariably intersect with race and gender lines) is far from accidental, even though it appears to be naturally occurring (or ‘arbitrary’ as Bourdieu might say). As Nash writes, ‘The fundamental aim of Bourdieu’s culturalism is to disclose the structure of principles from which agents’ produce regulated practices, for that structure of principles determines the objective character of culture itself’ (1999, 184). That is, accruing capital, and in particular cultural capital, is far from meritorious. The dynamics of the field, while not insurmountable, provide undeniable advantage to some rather than others. Research on child-rearing, socio-economic status and achievement (Chin and Phillips 2004; Covay and Carbonaro 2010; Lareau 2003; Perna and Titus 2005; Ream and Rumberger 2008) suggests material disparities and ‘life chances’ are strongly connected with issues of race and class. Perna and Titus (2005), for example, demonstrate clearly how accumulated advantage, or ‘social capital’, results in differentials in college enrollment. For Bourdieu, there is a strong link between schooling and family. He writes: The habitus acquired in the family underlines the structuring of school experiences (in particular the reception and assimilation of the specifically pedagogic message), and the habitus transformed by schooling, itself diversified, in turn underlies the structuring of all subsequent experiences. (1977, 87)

The habitus endures, in other words, even when the objective conditions no longer exist (Nash 1990), or as Reay (2004) summarises Bourdieu: the social world is in the body. Thus, whereas theories of leisure (or serious leisure) may be reducible to agency and habit, implying that lifestyles are a matter of choices available to all, there is, for Bourdieu, a strong connection between the universe of economic/social conditions among families and schools, i.e. habitus, and the universe of lifestyles (Bourdieu 1984; see part III).

The study The setting for this research was a large, private research university on the East Coast of the USA. I restricted the target population to the groups operating formally on campus, i.e. those groups with open auditions listed on the university’s student activity website. Informal or intact, closed membership groups were excluded from consideration. For the authority-led population I obtained membership lists for the All-Campus Orchestra (N !94), the Concert Band (N !44) and the Marching/Pep Band (N !81).2 The gender breakdowns of the ensembles were All-Campus Orchestra strings (F !49, M !24), Concert Band (F !22, M !23) and Marching/ Pep Band (F !49, M !33). I stratified pools to ensure gender balance, and selected four random names (2 M, 2 F) from each of the three ensembles. For the All-Campus Orchestra I delimited the pool to the string players based on the assumption that


44 R.A. Mantie string training is distinct from wind instrument training; I wanted to avoid redundancies with members of the Concert Band and Marching/Pep Band (see Hewitt and Allan 2012, who found differences between youth symphony orchestra and concert band members). I contacted the 12 randomly selected individuals via email. All agreed to participate. For the student-led population I used the contact email address provided for the eight mainstream collegiate a cappella groups (groups average 12"16 members) listed on the university’s student activities website. No response was received from four of the groups (possibly due to inactive email accounts). Seven participants (4 F, 3 M) from the other four a cappella groups were ultimately contacted and agreed to participate. To achieve a richer sense of the nature of the ensembles, I took observational notes on rehearsals for the All-Campus Orchestra, Concert Band and two of the a cappella groups. In addition, I took observational notes on performances by all three instrumental ensembles and three a cappella groups. Interviews were conducted between February and May 2011 and ranged from 25 to 77 minutes (average 46?) in length. All interviews occurred in my university office, were audio-recorded, and coded and categorised according to an interview protocol that featured questions about personal and family background, previous music experience, and perceptions and opinions about their college music experience.

Findings Participant characteristics Selected demographic data are displayed in Table 1. The visible race/ethnicity breakdown evidences a slight overrepresentation of whites relative to campus Table 1. Demographic information.a Concert Band and Marching/Pep Band

All-Campus Orchestra

a cappella

N !8 (4#4)

N !4

N!7

College year (1"4) 4"2"2"0 College major Earth science, electrical engineering, biology, anthropology and religion, undecided, astrophysics, linguistics, advertising From California, Texas, Ohio, New York (3), Massachusetts (2) Type of high Public (8) school attended Race/ethnicity White (6), Hispanic/ brown (2) a

1"0"3"1 Human physiology (premed), chemistry, business, international relations California, New York (2), South Korea Public (2), private (2) White (3), Asian (1)

2"1"2"2 Music, environmental analysis, engineering (aerospace), bio-medical engineering, broadcast journalism, communications Kentucky, Texas, New Mexico, New Jersey (2), New York, Massachusetts Public (2), private (3), charter/arts (2) White (7)

Concert Band and Marching/Pep Band were originally sampled as separate entities. Due to the duplication (four participants played in both) and similarity of members, the two ensembles were binned for analysis.


Music Education Research 45 demographics.3 Academic majors were diverse among all three groups and conclusive patterns cannot be drawn from such a small number of participants. Nevertheless, it cannot be overlooked that the majors for the a cappella and All-Campus Orchestra members trend towards ‘higher status’ academic majors such as human physiology (pre-medical) and aerospace engineering, whereas the wind band players trend towards lower status majors such as religion and linguistics. The purpose of this research was to study ‘recreational’ music making " i.e. that done by non-music majors; however, one of the randomly chosen individuals turned out to be a music major who, based on personal interest, chose to participate in a recreational group. Although anomalous, I chose not to exclude this individual due to the revealing nature of the interview responses and because the nature of his participation (recreational and freely chosen rather than obligatory or expected) was consistent with the aims of the research. Overall, the sample approximates campus demographics in terms of geographic state of origin, with the exception of an overrepresentation from the state of New York. However, five of the eight wind band players (Concert Band and Marching/ Pep Band) were from Massachusetts or the state of New York; only one originated from more than 600 miles from campus. In contrast, five of the string players and a cappella members originated from over 1000 miles from campus (including one international overseas member), suggesting the possibility of both greater cosmopolitanism and greater financial resources on the part of the string players and a cappella members. This possibility is supported by the type of high school attended. All of the wind band players, for example, graduated from large conventional public (i.e. state) schools, whereas 7 of the 11 string players and a cappella members graduated from private or charter/arts schools.4 Structural conditions Interview questions about family and social backgrounds revealed commonalities amongst the participants. All grew up in two-parent families; 15 of 19 had siblings. Although not excessively beyond the national figures for two-parent families in the USA (approximately 70"75%, US Census Bureau 2009 figures), interview responses suggest that the participants enjoyed caring home environments: there was parental support and encouragement not just for musical activities, but for involvement with a variety of sport, cultural and social activities. Almost every participant mentioned multiple involvements beyond music. It was not unusual to hear this kind of response: ‘When I was a kid . . . I did gymnastics and karate and swimming and ballet and music. I actually don’t know how I did all of that, honestly, I really don’t’ (Meredith, All-Campus Orchestra; attended private school) " although sometimes other activities did not come immediately to mind and would surface in other places in the interview. For example, Rebecca (a cappella) failed to recall childhood activities other than music when asked about it, but later in the interview revealed that she regularly rode horses as a child. When asked about music in the household while growing up, an overall picture of omnivorous cultural tastes prevailed, with references to classical music listening amongst the parents turning up more often than one would expect to find in the general population, a finding consistent with Graham (2009). Frequent references were made to growing up with lots of music in the house. Andre´ (Concert Band), for


46 R.A. Mantie example, remarked that he grew up listening to ‘everything’, and that his ‘parents tried to do the cultural thing’. And as Diana observed, ‘The piano was always there’. Over half of those interviewed mentioned at least one parent that played a musical instrument now or in the past, and those with siblings indicated that their brothers/ sisters also grew up playing instruments. There were also occasional references to musical abilities or involvement by extended family members: e.g. ‘my grandma has perfect pitch . . . she could have been a concert pianist but choose the family route’, ‘I have two aunts with perfect pitch . . . My uncle was principal trumpet in the [major name] Orchestra for 30 years’. A commonality amongst almost all participants in the study, save two wind band players, was study with a private instructor during the school years in addition to their school music education program. In the case of the a cappella members, this took the form of private instruction on piano or guitar, not voice. Given the relatively high cost of private music instruction in the USA, the significance of this point cannot be overlooked. Despite the prevalence of private instruction amongst all of the participants, it is notable that previous involvement with solo playing or chamber music was found primarily amongst the string players and a cappella members rather than the wind band players, whose comments in response to my question about solo and chamber playing included ‘I find the idea of playing by myself is strange’, ‘I’m not really into it; I love playing with the group’ and ‘I don’t like to play in front of others’.

Why Do This? The ensembles included in this study required a time commitment of group members ranging from 4 to 10 hours per week. One of my principal interview questions was, ‘Given your heavy academic course load, why do you choose to do this [participate in music] when it requires so many hours of rehearsal per week?’ Four primary themes emerged: music making as a stress release (an alternative to academic classes), a love or enjoyment of music, social or friendship aspects, and a belief that participating in their music ensemble was a productive use of their leisure time. Although differences between members of the various ensemble types were not pronounced, subtle patterns along various axes of engagement were discernible. For instance, while all participants were, by definition, committed to their musical pursuits by virtue of their volitional engagement in a time-consuming activity, the nature of the responses from those in the instrumental (i.e. authority-led) groups focused on themselves, whereas those in the a cappella groups focused on the group. As evident in the following three examples, the commitment by the instrumentalists emphasised their own participation and well-being rather than an obligation to, or the well-being of, the group per se: I’m not really doing it for any real practical reason. I don’t honestly see myself using the skill set I’m developing musically or performance later in my life or in my career, but do enjoy it. I think it’s better than just sitting around playing video games for my enjoyment. At least this way I get some exercise, meet some new people " that kind of stuff. (Andrew, Marching/Pep Band) I think it’s a big way for me to let off steam if I’ve had a stressful day. It’s still stressful getting to orchestra because it’s across campus and it’s late at night and I have

Music Education Research 47 homework to do, but above all that I can sit for two hours and play and not think about my homework or what else is going on in my life and just think about playing . . . It’s a way to let go of everything else. (Jana, All-Campus Orchestra)5


[P]laying something really well can give you such a feeling of accomplishment that even grades can’t give you. I got an ‘A’ in a class and I was really happy, but I still love marching band more than writing papers for sociology. It’s that feeling of accomplishment, that you did something really good " just for yourself . . . I really love my [instrument], but I only do it for me. It’s fun to entertain the crowd, but I just really like certain parts [of the songs we play]. (Sandra, Marching/Pep Band)

In the responses above one notes a self-conscious concern for personal well-being; the musical group is viewed as a vehicle and environment that helps fulfils personal needs for self-satisfaction and improves mental health. Playing in the band or orchestra is considered a worthwhile and valued use of leisure time that helps to provide a counter-balance to academic activities. As Andrew put it, ‘Music is my one hobby " my extra-curricular’. Interestingly, Holly, who mentioned to me that she played in the band for stress relief added that she had been ‘trying other things as well’, suggesting that her music making was but one option she considered for managing her personal well-being rather than an activity motivated by the music itself. For the a cappella participants, obligations to others appeared more prominently in the responses. Whereas missing or being late for an instrumental ensemble would be to miss out on an opportunity for improved personal well-being, to miss or be late for an a cappella rehearsal was to let others down. Susan, an a cappella member, was almost apologetic in her response regarding the level of commitment to her musical endeavours: I hate to admit this and my teachers would hate me, but I put this before my schoolwork so often; the fact that this is more fun, even though it might be more work than my school work " I want to work on this more. It takes up a lot of time, and in the end it doesn’t count for anything because I’m not going to graduate with any kind of musical recognition. I really don’t have a good reason. I just love doing it, and I think that that’s why we are all so dedicated . . . You get your schoolwork done at another time because you know you have rehearsal every Thursday and Sunday.

Angela, a member of an all-female a cappella group, emphasised the social aspects of this commitment. Through engaging in a group activity " especially one of a more intimate nature than the less personal nature of the larger instrumental ensembles " social bonds are created whereby one’s responsibility to the other members takes priority over personal tasks and obligations. All of sudden there are 12"15 girls who are your best friends . . . At first I thought it was going to be like a sorority and I thought ‘oh no’ because I didn’t want that. But it’s better than that, because you’re actually doing things together. You all come together because you like doing something together. And you end up spending so much time together that you get to know each other " and then practices and going to rehearsals and hanging out with your friends " and you can justify it, too. It’s not like ‘sorry, I have a paper’. No! You have to be there, and you have to be on time.

The level of dedication evident in these responses was found with all of the a cappella members, who frequently referenced their willingness to make necessary


48 R.A. Mantie self-sacrifices in order to meet the time and effort required (six hours of rehearsals per week, plus multiple performances each term). Although the responses might appear to suggest that the a cappella members were more committed to their musical activities than the instrumentalists in the authority-led groups, such was not necessarily the case. As Meredith (All-Campus Orchestra) remarked, ‘If I have to drop something, it won’t be orchestra’. Only two people mentioned it in the interviews, but it should be noted that students in the authority-led groups could opt to receive university credit for their participation. The credit, not reflective of the time required for rehearsals and not large enough to necessarily impact on their academic programs (reflecting, perhaps, only the university’s desire to collect a small amount of tuition revenue), does show up on students’ official transcripts. Hence, there is a formalised incentive, albeit very small, in the authority-led instrumental ensembles absent from the student-led a cappella groups, something evident in Susan’s response above when she mentions that, as an a cappella member, she will not graduate with any kind of musical recognition. Given the focus of research that conceptualises adult music making as a form of lifelong learning, it was somewhat surprising that, consistent with the findings of Kokotsaki and Hallam’s (2011) study of non-music majors, outside of a couple of casual references to ‘learning a song’ in a rehearsal, the word learning or the phrase lifelong learning was never uttered. On the one hand, it seems reasonable to assume that at this emergent stage of their adult lives these participants were not yet ready to conceive of their participation in terms of something ‘lifelong’. On the other hand, in no response could I detect any conceptualisation of musical participation as a learning endeavour. This is not to suggest that learning (of some description) did not occur in the music ensembles, but rather, that the participants did not involve themselves for reasons of learning. Words such as ‘hobby’ and ‘extra-curricular’ were more often used in summing up the participants’ self-expressed conceptualisation of their involvement. Making music The original impetus for this study was driven by (1) O’Toole’s (1997) assertion that choir members, due to their school music experience, came to normalise music making under the direction of a strong authority figure and (2) Pitts’ (2009) research on the connection between life histories and music education. I had expected to find differences between authority-led and student-led ensembles, believing, following research on informal music making and greater ‘student voice’ (e.g. Green 2008; Jaffurs 2004; Wright 2008) that the presence of greater student autonomy and agency in the early adult years might be connected with increased lifespan engagement with music (Myers 2008), and that preferences for different forms of musical engagement might reflect different biographies. That is, I wondered if those in the student-led a cappella groups might desire, or operate in, such groups due to conditions in their social or musical histories. A primary distinction between the All-Campus Orchestra and Concert Band, and the other ensembles is that the former have a ‘conductor’ wielding a baton. My observations of the rehearsal practices of these two ensembles did not produce unexpected insights. The leaders of these ensembles directed and rehearsed ‘concert’


Music Education Research 49 repertoire in the western classical tradition more or less the way one has come to expect such groups to operate, and the students were clearly comfortable functioning in this environment even when rehearsals were trying. As Jana (All-Campus Orchestra) remarked, ‘It definitely gets tiring when the conductor makes you play the same thing four or five times in a row and it’s three whole notes, but still [it’s worth being a part of the group]’. The leader of the Marching/Pep Band functioned differently, in so far as her/his role was primarily to start and stop the group and make sure that all members understood the organisational details. In performance, for example, the Pep Band changed pieces frequently and stopped pieces in accordance with the action of the accompanying sporting event. Members paid attention to the leader, but only in order to stay together as a group, not to reflect the musical impulse of the conductor as was the expectation in the All-Campus Orchestra or Concert Band. My observations of the a cappella rehearsals did not reveal expected deviations in practice from that of the authority-led groups. Collegiate a cappella groups typically have an ‘MD’, or music director, who is responsible for rehearsing the group in ways similar to that of other large ensemble groups (i.e. the find and fix the problems approach driven by a sole authority suggested by O’Toole). The MD unmistakably ‘ran’ the rehearsal; a participatory free-for-all rehearsals were not. To this extent O’Toole’s claim was borne out. The a cappella members were quite comfortable rehearsing under the direction of an authority figure, even when this person did not possess the title, stature, credentials, or even skills of an authorised figure, such as the university-employed leaders of the other groups. It bears noting, however, that whilst the MD unmistakably operated as the authoritative voice in rehearsals, this individual is democratically voted in each year by the group’s members, and is, unlike the leaders of the authority-led ensembles, subject to removal should she or he lose the confidence of the group. In addition, the MD sings in and with the group and is not segregated, physically and relationally, as is the traditional conductor or a large ensemble. None of this, however, suggests the significance of ‘student voice’ as discussed in previous research (Green 2008; Jaffurs 2004; Wright 2008). Given the emphasis on the importance of performing quality repertoire in school music ensembles in the USA, there was very little concern on the part of the participants for the ‘greatness’ of the repertoire performed. This is not to suggest that the musical material did not matter, but that the criteria for importance was mutable, adapting to the circumstances. Sandra, for example, never spoke to me about songs being good or bad; rather, she liked performing certain lines of particular songs. In the Pep Band, where sometimes only 8"16 measures of a piece might be performed between a break in the sporting action, functionality trumped classical conceptions of aesthetic beauty. Unlike in the authority-led groups, where repertoire selection is the sole domain of the leader, the a cappella groups engaged in a specific ritual of music selection called ‘pitch’, whereby once or twice a year each group would gather for individual members to pitch songs to the group. The criteria for selection was dependent on the appropriateness of pieces as vehicles for showcasing individual members of the group, not the quality of the piece in and of itself. Although it did not factor into the research focus of this study, future research could explore the possible implications of student-led a cappella groups selecting and arranging their own repertoire (versus music selection by a conductor).

50 R.A. Mantie


The connections, then, between students’ life histories and their participation in various modes of musical engagement were far from clear. In part, one could conclude that, to the extent the participants, by virtue of their involvement, conformed to rehearsal and performance practices of traditional authority-led music making, they reflected the normative expectations conditioned by their school music experiences. Significantly, no participant, regardless of mode of engagement, demonstrated evidence of critical self-reflexiveness about their activities; there were no comments indicating that things could be any other way. Although the decision to continue in authority-led groups may reflect the participants’ music education conditioning, I could discern no evidence that the choice to sing in a collegiate a cappella group was in any way tied to resistance towards authority-led practices or a desire for greater ‘student voice’. Discussion [T]here is no activity more classifying, more distinctive, that is, more closely linked to social class and educational capital, than concert-going or the playing of a ‘noble’ instrument . . . (Bourdieu 1993, 104) [Playing violin] definitely made me more cultured. I can go to a ballet or a symphony and just really sit there and enjoy it, whereas I know a lot of people my age would not give two cents about it . . . (Meredith, All-Campus Orchestra)

I undertook this investigation of the leisure choices of recreational music makers at the stage of emerging adulthood in order to (1) better understand connections between leisure choices involving music making and previous home and school (i.e. music education) life experiences and (2) examine the possible intersections of structure and agency as they related to collegiate recreational music making. Towards this end I engaged the concepts and theories of Stebbins and Bourdieu to help explain the reproduction of socio-musical relations, and what I perceive as possible tensions between agency and structure. Privilege and social reproduction The label ‘higher’ education connotes that the tertiary level of formal education maintains a reified position in knowledge fields. That occurring at the highest levels is presumed to hold the greatest status, or capital in Bourdieusian terms. Reducing the concerns in music teaching and learning at the tertiary level to the merely pragmatic provisions of service is to overlook the implication of music teaching and learning in the production and reproduction of social stratification based on the effects of power and knowledge (Bourdieu 1984, 1988, 1993). Musical practices occurring at the tertiary-level represent, by virtue of their location, the pinnacle of sanctioned musical knowledge and activity. Naidoo (2004) writes, ‘Universities contribute to the ‘‘misrecognition’’ and therefore ‘‘naturalization’’ of structures of domination’ (460). Whilst the ‘omnivorous turn’ in cultural consumption as a marker of distinction may be indicative of changing attitudes about taste, the ability to participate in legitimate forms of music making (i.e. the kinds of practices present in higher education) is an additional, arguably superior, form of social, cultural and educational capital, as


Music Education Research 51 apparent in a remark by Michelle (Concert Band/Pep Band): ‘My parents pushed to stay in music; they said it looked good for college’. Consistent with previous research on child-rearing and music (Creech 2010; Davidson, Slobota, and Howe 1995/96; Faulkner, Davidson, and McPherson 2010; Macmillan 2004; Moore, Burland, and Davidson 2003; Sichivitsa 2003, 2007; Zdzinski 1992, 1996), and child-rearing, class, race and achievement (Chin and Phillips 2004; Covay and Carbonaro 2010; de Carvalho 2001; Lareau 2003; Ma 2009; Perna and Titus 2005; Ream and Rumberger 2008), it would seem that those who continue to be active as players or singers in collegiate ensembles are the product of similar, privileged social histories. Comments such as, ‘half the reason I go to orchestra is to see all my friends . . . we’re all on the same page . . .. we have the same type of personality’ (Meredith, All-Campus Orchestra), ‘it’s so much easier to make friends in band’ (Ron, Concert Band) and ‘[the group] has become a social entity; we click really, really well’ (Mary, a cappella) all point not to similarities in personalities or abilities, but to shared habituses. Based on direct and indirect comments in the interviews it was clear to me that the participants enjoyed relatively stable and caring homes, had sufficient if not excessive financial means, and participated in educational and musical circumstances (in and out of school; see Hewitt and Allan 2012) that ensured sufficient skills and knowledge to thrive as independent musicians at the college level. As Faulkner, Davidson, and McPherson (2010) point out, however, long-term engagement is not based on competency alone, but on perceived competency. That is, it is not just that privilege ensured these participants’ knowledge and skill, it is that it their habitus provided them with the sense of self-assurance to participate independent of parental guidance or insistence. Although it should not surprise that people with so much in common should enjoy each other’s company, what seems shocking is the extent to which the participants in the study were unaware of the necessary investment required in order to engage in their extra-curricular activities. Not once did a participant refer to money, nor did anyone demonstrate any awareness that their lifestyle, past or present, was not available to everyone in society. When asked why she chose to play music in her spare time instead of some other activity, Meredith replied: I guess I could do some sort of art like sculpting or something, but it’s just not the same . . . Playing makes me happy. I also have a pretty decent violin so it doesn’t sound bad; it sounds pretty good. It could sound a lot worse if I had a worse violin.

This kind of response suggests she was aware of the connection between instrument quality and cost, but that she did not fully appreciate the privilege necessary to attend private school or acquire her current level of not insubstantial cultural (if not economic) capital. Although previous research has highlighted that formal music education in American schools tends to cater to and furthers those already advantaged, I was nevertheless surprised by the degree of privilege evidenced among the participants in this study. Although only a small sample, it was randomly drawn. There is little reason to suspect that those who participated in the study were outliers or differed substantially from the other recreational music makers on campus. In view of this, perhaps one of the most disturbing findings for the music education profession is that school music alone appears insufficient for instilling the skills and/or

52 R.A. Mantie dispositions necessary for continued recreational music making at the collegiate level. That almost all participants mentioned private instruction and many mentioned the presence of a piano in the home suggests that privileged conditions (cultural capital) may account more for collegiate music participation than the direct benefits of school music. As a mark of privilege Bourdieu elsewhere discusses as symbolic violence, Meredith and the other participants exhibited ‘an enchanted experience of culture which implies forgetting the acquisition’ (Bourdieu 1984, 3). Although almost all the participants spoke glowingly of their school music experience, not one acknowledged the accumulated advantage they enjoyed as a result of an upbringing that undoubtedly contributed to their positions as musical leaders in their high school music programs.


Leisure, lifestyle and reflexivity Consistent with Stebbins’ notion of serious leisure, there was a clear expression of seriousness among participants towards their music making and, especially among the instrumentalists, an appreciation of the requisite skills they possessed. As previously discussed, the a cappella members demonstrated a greater obligation to the group, whereas the instrumentalists, especially the wind players, regarded their musical engagement more in terms of personal well-being and a responsible use of leisure time. Despite these differences, the participants all exhibited three qualities Stebbins associates with leisure: choice, satisfaction and initiative (1998, 14). Not all participants had predetermined that they would be musically active in college prior to their arrival, but the majority had. Moreover, just under half chose this specific university because of its musical offerings for non-music majors, indicating that recreational music participation during the college years was in fact a priority for them, as Jana’s response makes clear: ‘It was one of my criteria in applying to a college; I wasn’t going to apply to a place that didn’t have an orchestra I could play in’. On his distinguishing of habitus from habit, Bourdieu reflected, ‘habit is spontaneously regarded as repetitive, mechanical, automatic, reproductive rather than productive. I wanted to insist on the idea that the habitus is something powerfully generative’ (Bourdieu 1993, 87). It is clear that on one level the participants engaged in their musical pursuits very deliberately and productively, indicative of a kind of agency conditioned by their habitus. A habitual element also seemed present, however. The participants’ reflections on their collegiate experience too often seemed an automatised extension of their high school experience, perhaps explaining their desire to continue doing in college what they had done in high school. Participants frequently relapsed into discussing their high school experience in present tense, for example, and heard in almost every interview were phrases such as ‘I’ve always done it’ or ‘it’s such a part of my life’, suggesting that the decision to partake of collegiate music offerings, especially those of an authority-led variety, was more of a foregone conclusion than a conscious choice. Disturbing, perhaps, is that some participants seemed incapable of situating their engagement in a larger context. As Rachel (Concert Band and Marching/Pep Band) remarked: I don’t know what I’d be doing if I wasn’t in band. I’d have a lot more free nights . . . [but] I don’t know what else I’d be doing . . . I live with band people. [If I didn’t

Music Education Research 53


do this] who would I be living with? Who would I be getting dinner with? I honestly don’t know.

Only 2 of the 19 participants (two a cappella members) had not previously engaged in the ensemble form they joined in college. Despite my proddings about other musical things they might consider doing, only one person mentioned chamber music, and even then it was a program whereby chamber music occurred under the direction of an authority figure (i.e. chamber music coach). To this extent, O’Toole’s (1997) assertions about the normalising effects of school music appear borne out. For Stebbins, agents fashion lifestyles as independent actors. The degree of reflexivity involved among the participants seems debatable, however. Bourdieu has claimed that people only act rationally to the extent they step outside of their habitus (see Nash 1990). Given the lack of awareness towards their own privileged circumstances and the plight of others, let alone their ability to imagine alternative modes of musical engagement, the line between rational and habitual amongst the participants is a fine one. An ethical issue for music educators is the culpability and responsibility that should be accepted in the social reproductive process.

Conclusion All cultures are largely ‘arbitrary’ in the sense that their members could adhere to a variety of different beliefs and practices and get on very well. All societies are characterized by domination, if one defines domination as the means by which dominant groups maintain their position. When Bourdieu speaks of the ‘arbitrariness’ of the dominant culture, he refers not to false consciousness but to the essential conditions of social order. (DiMaggio 1979, 1470) Without careful attention to the kinds of community afforded by various music and educational practices, without attending closely to the relationships between musicking and identity and the ways musical or educational practices nurture or suppress these relationships, there is a very good chance that we will simply repeat the elitist and colonialist ‘sins’ of music education’s past, failing in the broader educational mission to create societies that are musically diverse, vibrant and vital. (Bowman 2009, 127)

If the collegiate years as a period of emerging adulthood are indeed liminal, they would seem an optimal time for solidifying the potential for viewing active music making as part of a healthy, desirable lifestyle. Conceptualisations of musical participation, both by participants and by music educators, hold intriguing implications for the music education profession. It is certainly valid that school music can and should exist for a multitude of reasons (e.g. cultural awareness, developing aesthetic sensitivity, developing performing skills, etc.), but it should not go unnoticed that those who choose to remain musically active in college do so as part of a volitional choice about the kind of lifestyle they wish to lead. What seems less understood is the degree to wish such choices are the structurally conditioned effect of habitus. Music education in the USA has long prided itself on its egalitarian aspects (‘Music for every child and every child for music’). Based on the results of this study, however, it seems clear that recreational musicians do not remain musically active on the basis of their school music experience alone. Without family support, built on a


54 R.A. Mantie degree of economic, social and cultural capital that encourages and enables an active upbringing that fosters the necessary skills and dispositions, it is doubtful that any of the participants in the study would be recreational musicians on campus. Their presence in collegiate ensembles is due not to the well-intentioned efforts of music educators (not that such efforts are unimportant), but to a complex, objectified ‘field’ that seems little understood or appreciated in music education theorisation efforts to date. To ‘forget the acquisition’ is to claim credit where little is due and to perpetuate a form of symbolic violence that pretends that the game is being played on a level field. By studying collegiate recreational music makers and their practices, the music education profession has the opportunity to better understand the ways in which secondary and tertiary-level music programs can enhance transition or lifespan engagement with music, and the ways in which music education is complicit in sustaining specific hegemonic class relationships. Accepting the ‘arbitrariness’ of secondary and tertiary-level music practices is not the same as believing that present practices are natural, proper, or inevitable. Greater understanding of class relations and aspects of reflexivity about the kinds of musical communities produced and reproduced via current relations of the field holds the potential to better inform curricular and instructional practices that might serve to ameliorate conditions of privilege and counteract what Bourdieu calls the ‘repetitive, mechanical, automatic, and reproductive’. Stebbins writes, ‘So far as leisure is concerned, people are responsible for their own happiness or lack of it. Although there are limits on leisure choice, no one is completely without choices no matter how small their number’ (1998, 15). Viewed through a Bourdieusian lens this libertarian stance feels naı¨ve. Although family influences lie beyond direct control of music educators, institutionalised music education is unavoidably implicated in maintaining specific class relations, serving to enhance the leisure options and lifestyles of some at the expense of others. To the extent that institutions of higher education underwrite some musical practices rather than others, they participate in processes of social stratification. This was a small study, conducted at a large, private research university with relatively high admission standards and high tuition costs. I am in no way claiming that these participants are broadly representative of the US population of emerging adults in colleges and universities. Further research is needed examining collegiate recreational music makers, both within the USA and, hopefully, more broadly, in order to better understand the potential implications of school music on the lives of people later in life and how music education at both the secondary and tertiary levels might better address differentials in privilege to ensure that leisure opportunities in music are available to greater numbers of people who wish to include them as part of a rewarding lifestyle. Notes 1. For the purposes of this article I use college and university synonymously. 2. Formally the Marching Band and Pep Band were/are two different entities, but in practice almost all members were/are the same. They were treated as one ensemble for the purposes of this study. 3. Based on figures found on the university’s website and www.stateuniversity.com. A representative breakdown matching campus demographics would be closer to 12"13 white, 2"3 Asian, 1"2 Hispanic, 1"2 black or brown. I did not directly ask participants to self-

Music Education Research 55 describe race/ethnicity. One participant’s responses revealed herself/himself to be Hispanic. I use the designation brown as a category that includes any non-black, non-white race/ ethnicity, such as south Asian or Middle Eastern. 4. Charter schools, which typically operate outside of many unionised labour constraints, have become popular in the USA in recent years. Due to the variability of such schools, I am not implying that charter schools are the ‘elite’ equivalent of private schools. The salient point is that parents in these instances have made the deliberate choice to enrol their children in such schools, indicating a particular stance towards education. 5. Compare the similarity of this response to that of one of Palmer’s (2008) adult participants in New Zealand: ‘You turn up for practice and you’ve had a really tiring day or a trying week and everything’s wrong and you don’t want to be there. The last thing you want to do is go out at night. But you go and at the end of two hours you’re feeling wonderful’ (210).


Notes on contributor Roger Mantie is an assistant professor at Boston University, where he teaches undergraduate and graduate courses in instrumental methods, jazz, research, and the history and philosophy of music education. His research interests lie in the area of leisure and recreation and their intersections with music and music education. He may be reached at [email protected].

References Abril, C., and B. Gault. 2006. The state of music in secondary schools: The principal’s perspective. Journal of Research in Music Education 54, no. 1: 6"20. Arasi, M. 2006. Adult reflections on a high school choral music program: Perceptions of meaning and lifelong influence. PhD diss., Georgia State University. Arnett, J.J. 2000. Emerging adulthood: A theory of development from the late teens through the twenties. American Psychologist 55, no. 5: 469"80. Arnett, J.J. 2006. Emerging adulthood: Understanding the new way of coming of age. In Emerging adults in America: Coming of age in the 21st century, ed. J.J. Arnett and J.L. Tanner, 3"19. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Baker, S., and B. Brown. 2007. Images of excellence: Constructions of institutional prestige and reflections in the university choice process. British Journal of Sociology of Education 28, no. 3: 377"91. Blatterer, H. 2010. The changing semantics of youth and adulthood. Cultural Sociology 4, no. 1: 63"79. Bottero, W. 2010. Intersubjectivity and Bourdieusian approaches to ‘Identity’. Cultural Sociology 4, no. 1: 3"22. Bourdieu, P. 1977. Outline of a theory of practice. Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press. Bourdieu, P. 1984. Distinction: A social critique of the judgement of taste. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Bourdieu, P. 1988. Homo academicus. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Bourdieu, P. 1993. Sociology in question. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Bourdieu, P., and J.C. Passeron. 1990. Reproduction in education, society and culture. London: Sage. Bowman, W. 2009. The community in music. International Journal of Community Music 2, nos. 2"3: 109"28. Busch, M. 2005. Predictors of lifelong learning in music: A survey of individuals participating in ensembles at community colleges in Illinois. PhD diss., University of Illinois at UrbanaChampaign. Chin, T., and M. Phillips. 2004. Social reproduction and child-rearing practices: Social class, children’s agency, and the summer activity gap. Sociology of Education 77, no. 3: 185"210. Coffman, D. 1996. Musical backgrounds and interests of active older adult band members. Dialogue in Instrumental Music Education 20, no. 1: 25"34.


56 R.A. Mantie Coffman, D. 2002. Music and quality of life in older adults. Psychomusicology " A Journal of Research in Music Cognition 18: 76"88. Coffman, D. 2009. Survey of New Horizons International Music Association musicians. International Journal of Community Music 1, no. 3: 375"90. Covay, E., and W. Carbonaro. 2010. After the bell: Participation in extracurricular activities, classroom behavior, and academic achievement. Sociology of Education 83, no. 1: 20"45. Creech, A. 2010. Learning a musical instrument: The case for parental support. Music Education Research 12, no. 1: 13"32. Dabback, W. 2007. Toward a model of adult music learning as a socially-embedded phenomenon. PhD diss., University of Rochester. Davidson, J.W., J.A. Slobota, and M.J.A. Howe. 1995/96. The role of parents and teachers in the success and failure of instrumental learners. Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education 127: 40"4. de Carvalho, M. 2001. Rethinking family-school relations: A critique of parental involvement in schooling. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. DiMaggio, P. 1979. On Pierre Bourdieu. American Journal of Sociology 84, no. 6: 1460"74. Elpus, K., and C.R. Abril. 2011. High school music ensemble students in the United States: A demographic profile. Journal of Research in Music Education 59, no. 2: 128"45. Faivre-Ransom, J. 2001. An investigation of factors that influence adult participation in music ensembles based on various behavioral theories: A case study of the Norfolk Chorale. DMA diss., Shenandoah Conservatory. Faulkner, R., J.W. Davidson, and G.E. McPherson. 2010. The value of data mining in music education research and some findings from its application to a study of instrumental learning during childhood. International Journal of Music Education 28, no. 3: 212"30. Gates, J.T. 1991. Music participation: Theory, research, and policy. Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education 109: 1"35. Graham, R. 2009. The function of music education in the growth of cultural openness in the USA. Music Education Research 11, no. 3: 283"302. Green, L. 2008. Music, informal learning and the school: A new classroom pedagogy. Aldershot: Ashgate. Grenfell, M., and D. James. 2004. Change in the field " Changing the field: Bourdieu and the methodological practice of educational research. British Journal of Sociology of Education 25, no. 4: 507"23. Griffith, M. 2006. Personality traits and musical interests of adult learners in an instrumental music program. PhD diss., The University of Oklahoma. Harker, R.K. 1984. On reproduction, habitus and education. British Journal of Sociology of Education 5, no. 2: 117"27. Hewitt, A., and A. Allan. 2012. Advanced youth music ensembles: Experiences of, and reasons for, participation. International Journal of Music Education. doi: 10.1177/ 0255761411434494. Isbell, D., and A.M. Stanley. 2011. Keeping instruments out of the attic: The concert band experiences of the non-music major. Paper presented at the American Educational Research Association meeting, April 7"12, in New Orleans, LA. Jaffurs, S. 2004. The impact of informal music learning practices in the classroom, or how I learned how to teach from a garage band. International Journal of Music Education 22, no. 3: 189"200. Jellison, J.A. 2000. How can all people continue to be involved in meaningful music participation? In Vision 2020: The housewright symposium on the future of music education, ed. Clifford K. Madsen, 111"37. Reston, VA: Music Educators National Conference. Jorgensen, E. 1993. On building social theories of music education. Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education 116: 33"50. Kaplan, M. 1955. Music in recreation, social foundations and practices. Champaign, IL: Stipes. Kokotsaki, D., and S. Hallam. 2011. The perceived benefits of participative music making for non-music university students: A comparison with music students. Music Education Research 13, no. 2: 149"72. Kruse, N. 2007. Andragogy and music: Canadian and American models of music learning among adults. PhD diss., Michigan State Univ.


Music Education Research 57 Lareau, A. 2003. Unequal childhoods: Class, race, and family life. Berkeley: University of California Press. Leonhard, C. 1952. Recreation through music. New York: A.S. Barnes. Ma, Y. 2009. Family socioeconomic status, parental involvement, and college major choices " Gender, race/ethnic, and nativity patterns. Sociological Perspectives 52, no. 2: 211"34. Macmillan, J. 2004. Learning the piano: A study of attitudes to parental involvement. British Journal of Music Education 21, no. 3: 295"311. Mantie, R. 2012. A study of community band participants: Implications for music education. Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education no. 191: 21"43. Mantie, R, and L. Tucker. 2008. Closing the gap: Does music-making have to stop upon graduation? International Journal of Community Music 1, no. 2: 217"27. Mark, M. 1996. Informal learning and adult music activities. Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education 130: 119"22. Moore, D., K. Burland, and J. Davidson. 2003. The social context of musical success: A developmental account. British Journal of Psychology 94: 529"49. Mountford, R. 1977. Significant predictors of college band participation by college freshmen with high school band experience. PhD diss., The Ohio State University. Myers, D. 2008. Lifespan engagement and the question of relevance: Challenges for music education research in the twenty-first century. Music Education Research 10, no. 1: 1"14. Naidoo, R. 2004. Fields and institutional strategy: Bourdieu on the relationship between higher education, inequality and society. British Journal of Sociology of Education 25, no. 4: 457"71. Nash, R. 1990. Bourdieu on education and social and cultural reproduction. British Journal of Sociology of Education 11, no. 4: 431"47. Nash, R. 1999. Bourdieu, ‘habitus’, and educational research: Is it all worth the candle? British Journal of Sociology of Education 20, no. 2: 175"87. National Recreation Association. 1926. Community music: A practical guide for the conduct of community music activities. Boston, MA: C.C. Birchard & Co. O’Toole, P. 1997. Escaping the tradition: Tensions between the production of values and pleasures in the chorale setting. In On the sociology of music education, ed. R. Rideout, 130"7. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma School of Music. Palmer, R. 2008. Questions arising from the views of some members of four amateur classical music organizations. International Journal of Community Music 1, no. 2: 203"16. Park, J. 1995. On the margin between ‘high’ culture and ‘ordinary’ everyday life: Social organization of the amateur orchestra and its musicians. PhD diss., Syracuse University. Perna, L., and M. Titus. 2005. The relationship between parental involvement as social capital and college enrollment: An examination of racial/ethnic group differences. The Journal of Higher Education 76, no. 5: 485"518. Peterson, R. 1992. Understanding audience segmentation: From elite and mass to omnivore and univore. Poetics 21: 243"58. Peterson, R. 1997. The rise and fall of highbrow snobbery as a status marker. Poetics 25: 75"92. Peterson, R., and R. Kern. 1996. Changing highbrow taste: From snob to omnivore. American Sociological Review 61, no. 5: 900"7. Pitts, S. 2009. Roots and routes in adult musical participation: Investigating the impact of home and school on lifelong musical interest and involvement. British Journal of Music Education 26, no. 3: 241"56. Ream, R.K., and R.W. Rumberger. 2008. Student engagement, peer social capital, and school dropout among Mexican American and non-Latino white students. Sociology of Education 81, no. 2: 109"39. Reay, D. 2004. ‘It’s all becoming a habitus’: Beyond the habitual use of habitus in educational research. British Journal of Sociology of Education 25, no. 4: 431"44. Reed-Danahay, D. 2005. Locating Bourdieu, new anthropologies of Europe. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Regelski, T. 2005. Music and music education: Theory and praxis for ‘making a difference’. Educational Philosophy and Theory 37, no. 1: 7"27. Regelski, T. 2006. Reconnecting music education with society. Action, Criticism & Theory for Music Education 5, no. 2: 1"20.


58 R.A. Mantie Regelski, T. 2007. Amateuring in music and its rivals. Action, Criticism & Theory for Music Education 6, no. 3: 22"50. Rohwer, D. 2005. Teaching the adult beginning instrumentalist: Ideas from practitioners. International Journal of Music Education 23, no. 1: 37"47. Rohwer, D. 2010. Understanding adult interests and needs: The pitfalls in wanting to know. International Journal of Community Music 3, no. 2: 203"12. Santoro, M. 2008. Culture as (and after) production. Cultural Sociology 2, no. 1: 7"31. Settersten, R., F. Furstenberg, and R. Rumbaut, eds., 2005. On the frontier of adulthood: Theory, research, and public policy. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Sichivitsa, V. 2003. College choir members’ motivation to persist in music: Application of the Tinto model. Journal of Research in Music Education 51, no. 4: 330"41. Sichivitsa, V. 2007. The influences of parents, teachers, peers and other factors on students’ motivation in music. Research Studies in Music Education 29: 55"68. Smith, C.M. 1997. Access to string instruction in American public schools. Journal of Research in Music Education 45, no. 4: 650"62. Spencer, W. 1996. An attitude assessment of amateur musicians in community bands. PhD diss., University of North Texas. Stebbins, R.A. 1979. Amateurs: On the margin between work and leisure. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage Publications. Stebbins, R.A. 1992. Amateurs, professionals, and serious leisure. Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University Press. Stebbins, R.A. 1998. After work: The search for an optimal leisure lifestyle. Calgary, AB: Detselig Enterprises. Wright, R. 2008. Kicking the habitus: Power, culture and pedagogy in the secondary school music curriculum. Music Education Research 10, no. 3: 389"402. Young, S. 2001. Nonmusic majors who persist in selected college marching bands: Demographic characteristics, and Myers-Briggs personality types. PhD diss., University of Missouri-Columbia. Zanzig, A. 1930. Richer uses of music as recreation. Music Educators Journal 16, no. 4: 27"33. Zdzinski, S. 1992. Relationships among parental involvement, music aptitude, and musical achievement of instrumental music students. Journal of Research in Music Education 40, no. 2: 114"25. Zdzinski, S. 1996. Parental involvement, selected student attributes, and learning outcomes in instrumental music. Journal of Research in Music Education 44, no. 1: 34"48.