(De)Constructing prejudice in music education

In his recent article “Extracurricular arts: poverty, inequality and indigenous musical arts education in postapartheid South Africa” (2016), Thomas M. Pooley presents a series of claims about the state of music education in a small region of KwaZulu-Natal. These claims cannot go unanswered, largely because they carry an elitist implication: that participating in cultural dance festivals somehow does not count as genuine music education. Pooley suggests that learners must be shown “what music literacy is,” yet he never defines what he means by that term or by “music education.”

Setting aside Pooley’s unstated bias, his equation of music as a recreational pastime with music as a formal school subject misunderstands how deeply embedded culturally based music-making is in South African society. His assumptions about how the Department of Basic Education (DBE) provides resources for curricular music education are inaccurate and poorly informed. He concludes that learners in KwaZulu-Natal public schools have no opportunity to study music meaningfully, that the current curriculum reinforces segregation and inequality, and that a thorough revision is needed.

To address these points, some context is necessary––especially surrounding a major gap in Pooley’s discussion: the diversity within South African society and how the education system tries to manage that diversity.

Rural communities anywhere in the world typically consist of a single cultural group. In the rural setting where Pooley conducted his research, one language (possibly with a local dialect) dominates; cultural practices are well known; and indigenous knowledge is passed on through enculturation by the community itself. Move to a different setting––say, a boarding school that creates its own microcosm––and a different cultural system emerges, though again the community preserves its own practices and homogeneity. But in large urban areas, schools and communities are not homogeneous; they are diverse. Learners often lack a common language at the same proficiency level, and these communities reflect a plurality with limited enculturation.

At the core of South African education policy after 1994 was the need to address this diversity. Multiculturalism, where no single culture dominates, was the guiding philosophy. This ideal has become harder to sustain, mainly because English––the ultimate colonial legacy––has become the primary language of instruction. With a dominant language comes its cultural baggage: a sense of superiority and a tendency to measure everything from that language’s standpoint. Between 1910 and 1948 the context was English, disregarding local languages. Between 1948 and 1990 it was Afrikaans, promoting local languages and practices despite serious restrictions on non-white education. After 1990 the focus shifted back to English, reviving colonial influences. That shift, more than anything else, sparked the #RhodesMustFall movement and subsequent demands for decolonising education.

The word “multiculturalism” in South Africa means something different from its usage in England or Canada, where it refers to including minority groups within a larger homogeneous society. Here, it describes how all cultural groups are accommodated within one system, with respect for their differences. As Gurpreet Mahajan wrote:

Multiculturalism is not just a statement of fact, it is also a value. It cherishes cultural diversity and envisions a society in which different communities forge a common identity while retaining their cultural provenance. When modern democratic societies embrace multiculturalism they demonstrate a deeper and more profound egalitarian impulse within them than the mere presence of plural cultures.

This aspiration represents the goal for South African education, but not necessarily the goal of the Department of Arts and Culture (DAC), which tends to support majority rather than minority groups. Cultural dance festivals and competitions have become increasingly common, aiming to build pride in one’s heritage. There is no attempt to promote music education (no dance form is considered “music”), and efforts to teach about the featured culture are minimal. The events are ethnic-specific and occur in communities where that culture is already fully understood. Pooley claims these competitions “should lead to further education and training at the tertiary level, and should feed into the cultural industries thereafter.” Commendable as this sentiment is, it has been ignored for years by the key decision-makers: the universities that train music teachers. Their refusal to engage with the school system and to follow the music industry’s recommendations has had damaging consequences.

I have seen no research on how promoting individual cultures has affected communities “living together and participating as equal partners in national political life.” Nor have I seen studies on multiculturalism in the changing nature of South African culture, or on how some (using idealistic language) try to deny such change. Parekh notes:

What I might call a multiculturalist perspective is composed of the creative interplay of these three important and complementary insights––namely the cultural embeddedness of human beings, the inescapability and desirability of cultural plurality, and the plural and multicultural constitution of each culture.

We instinctively suspect attempts to homogenize a culture and impose a single identity on it.... We remain equally sceptical of all attempts to present it as self-generating...This undercuts the very basis of Afrocentrism, Eurocentrism, Indocentrism, Sinocentrism and other kinds of centrisms.

The time is overdue for South African music research to move beyond rehashing decades-old policy documents. Instead, researchers should explore how––and why––the refusal to accept international best practice has damaged music education. I have read enough about Finnish education (only through the generalist phase, Grades R–9). But I have yet to see a South African analysis of music education in Namibia, Kenya, Ghana, Egypt, or any other African country.

Music as a recreational pastime

Pooley’s vivid images of “[b]arefooted bodies” and “[b]are-backed dancers” in “long, shivering lines” seem intended to evoke pity and disbelief. This characterisation builds prejudice where none is warranted. His observations only cover the DAC-supported cultural festival he attended. For generations, music in various forms has been part of recreational activities at schools throughout South Africa, both before and after apartheid.

Very few public schools, especially in rural areas, lack at least one active choir. It surprised me that Pooley did not encounter any, or perhaps did not ask about them. Conductors are often teachers passionate about choral music, who may or may not be formally trained in music. Some schools offer music as a matric subject; others do not. A school may have several choirs, one for each phase. Suburban primary schools (Grades R–7) frequently hold “musical evenings” involving every child. These show the range of students’ talents, and the teachers involved again may not have formal training.

Interschool choral competitions blending Western and indigenous African traditions have been central to South African schooling for decades. Before 2003, each teachers’ union ran its own competition. After negotiations, one annual competition emerged, run by what is now the DBE. The South African Schools Choral Eisteddfod (SASCE) is fiercely contested at local, provincial, and national levels. Demanding set works, including opera arias for soloists, are required. Notable South African composers write new works for the Eisteddfod. In their choirs, learners learn to read music using solfa or staff notation. Final rounds include orchestral accompaniment before thousands of peers and family, judged in venues such as the Playhouse in Durban. No wonder singers like Pretty Yende, Pumeza Matshikiza, Noluvuyiso Mpofu, Simon Shibambu, Lukhanyo Moyake, Caroline Modiba, and Levy Sekgapane have risen to international success.

Some may dismiss SASCE as “Eurocentric,” but that charge rings hollow, both historically and theoretically. Parekh put it well:

…different cultures represent different systems of meaning and visions of the good life. Since each realizes a limited range of human capacities...it needs other cultures to help it understand itself better, expand its intellectual and moral horizon, stretch its imagination, save it from narcissism...

In the end, each person chooses the culture with which they identify. Enforcing any one choice contradicts the freedom of association enshrined in South Africa’s Constitution.

The role of music within the school curriculum

First, Pooley’s assertion that private schools use only graded music-theory examinations from Trinity College London, the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music, or the University of South Africa, and that this is the only option for their students, must be addressed. He dates this practice to the nineteenth century, but the timeline is wrong: Trinity first ran local exams in 1877, the Royal Schools in 1889, and Unisa’s system began in 1918. Ironically, Unisa was set up to counter British influence and is largely ignored by English‑medium schools today. If the school Pooley visited chooses not to follow the Independent Examinations Board curriculum (which is mandatory at all private schools), but offers inferior music instruction instead, that choice has nothing to do with systemic failure. Curiously, the DBE no longer accepts these theory examinations as equivalent to the Grade 10–12 music curriculum; public schools only offer them as extra-curricular activities.

Pooley also claims these graded examinations set the entrance standard for university. Universities that rely solely on such exams are actively undermining the DBE’s efforts to prepare students for tertiary education. That, once more, brings us to the universities––they are the blocking point, and they have seemingly failed to grasp the consequences of their decisions.

Pooley appears to grasp that music fulfils different roles during the four stages of education delineated in the South African schooling system. He fails, however, to appreciate that these roles have been aligned with international practice. The progression is from general (all learners participate in all arts subjects, including music, in grades R‑6) to limited choice (learners may choose two of four arts subjects, dependent on the school’s human and physical resources, in grades 7‑9) to own choice (learners may choose any one of the arts subjects, dependent on the ability of the school to offer such subjects, in grades 10‑12). Specialisation is directly related to a learner’s growing awareness of his/her interests and abilities. Music is treated no differently to the other three arts subjects. Without acknowledging this, a skewed view of what comprises music education in South African public and private schools is formed.

Before continuing the discussion, it is necessary to note that the learning and teaching support materials (LTSM) approved by the DBE for purchase by schools are required, where appropriate, to consist of the following components:

• A textbook for the learner. Learners do not write in these books; they become part of the school’s resources. They are only replaced when lost or damaged to the extent that they can no longer be used. This is administered under the “book retention” policy, and publishers must ensure that books are printed on good quality paper and bound in such a way that a 5‑year lifecycle is possible.
• A workbook for the learner. These books become the learner’s property, and are used, for example, to complete exercises. These books are replaced on an annual basis.
• A teacher’s guide. This book provides the teacher with full support in the classroom, and it is indispensable in the teaching process. Detailed guidelines regarding the presentation of the work, often including memoranda, are provided. These guides are written by experienced teachers and address teachers working in all schools throughout the country.

By requiring that a workbook and a teacher’s guide should generally accompany textbooks, the DBE ensures as best it can that teachers – however poorly trained – are able to present lessons efficiently in every subject offered, including music. The teacher’s guides ensure, amongst other things, that teachers are conscious of the amount of time that should be spent on each section of the curriculum, and provide practical assistance in completing the curriculum within the timeframe given. Workbooks, with accompanying memoranda for teachers, provide suitable exercises that support learning and ensure that an acceptable standard of work is achieved. Many private schools have opted to use no “paper” books but electronic resources only and therefore purchase only such e‑books as are available (amongst others, for the Creative Arts published by ViaAfrika Publishers). No e‑books are available for Music

Grades 10‑12. This may explain why a school opts for the graded theory examinations; certainly, this statement by Pooley requires further, more detailed research to be undertaken.

I turn now to the role of music in each of the four phases.

The Foundation Phase

It is widely acknowledged that, in the Foundation Phase (grades R‑3), music should be integrated into the general learning process. Rhyming songs, counting songs, and games songs, for example, are taught to reinforce learning in other areas. The use of body percussion and movement not only promote the development of motoric co‑ordination, but also provide moments of sheer relaxation and enjoyment. There is, contrary to Pooley’s assertion, no “choice” whether to teach music or not; the approach is an integrated one. It may be prudent to consult a more recent study such as Andreas Mitas’s A critical comparison of the role and function of music education in the foundation phase of the post‑apartheid South African school curricula (Mitas 2015). She particularly identifies that “The CAPS expects music educators to teach creative games and skills, and to improvise and to interpret with a focus on the performing arts: a clear influence of the approach to music as part of a holistic performance practice in African traditional music” (Mitas 2015: 59). One cannot decry the lack of indigenous African practices within “music education” while ignoring the role and function of such songs in those same practices, and then turn the use of that philosophy into a negative aspect of the curriculum. One either acknowledges and incorporates such practices, or rejects them.

Currently the DBE lists sets of Life Skills textbooks for the Foundation Phase published by Oxford University Press, Maskew Miller Longman, Macmillan (SA) and Cambridge University Press in all 9 official languages (DBE 2015). It would be worthwhile to explore these resources.

The Intermediate Phase

In the intermediate phase, learners are encouraged to become creatively involved with the arts. Music, dance and drama are presented as a single component, in keeping with the “musical arts education” required by Pooley, and can be presented within a cultural context to reflect the location of the school and the knowledge of the teacher. Knowledge of music notation is presented at this stage, including basic note values, rests, a basic knowledge of staff notation and of solfa notation, and the introduction of the concept of the major scale. One may express concern about the inclusion of the “major scale”; this is, however, the scale used most widely in popular music, which is the music listened to by all learners, regardless of their location or income group. While school classrooms may not fulfil Pooley’s requirements of a staff pasted against a wall, or drawn on a blackboard, the textbooks compiled by Heinemann Publishers, Maskew Miller Longman, Cambridge University Press, Oxford University Press and Via Afrika most certainly include such resources. The books are all listed in the LTSM catalogue, and are available in either English or Afrikaans (DBE 2015). Once more, criticism cannot be levelled until an analysis of the LTSM available has been made.

In keeping with the “musical arts” approach preferred by the DBE at this level, learners are encouraged to make their own instruments, to use more advanced body percussion, and to integrate drama and dance with music.

One may choose to describe such an approach as the “massification” of music education; it is, however, the way in which music is integrated into the basic curriculum internationally. Pre‑1994 “white” schools offered “class music”, providing opportunities to sing and (occasionally) listen to music. The schools that taught any form of music notation were very few and far between, and school music classes were generally (even by myself as a learner 60 years ago) regarded as possibly the worst of all school experiences. Often these classes were presented to an entire grade, or even to the whole school. If ever “massification” took place, this was where, when and how it happened.

The claim that offering music as part of the Creative Arts curriculum “leads directly to the overburdening of educators, and [as a result] diversity can only be implemented where sufficient resources and training are available to teachers” (Pooley 2016: 643) reflects a complete misunderstanding of education principles within this phase. Few primary school teachers in South Africa, using resources that address diversity and are produced by highly experienced teachers, and that are available from the DBE, would not be able to cope, or would consider themselves to be “overburdened”. If universities are not aware of these resources, they should rethink their role and function within music education, and probably within the whole education sector.

Pooley’s view reveals yet another element conspicuous by its absence in his article: the role that is (not) played by universities countrywide in training teachers appropriately. When reference is made to “a paucity of textbooks and specialised learning materials” (Pooley 2016, 641), but the available resources are not even mentioned, volumes are spoken about what is forming the basis of the criticism, and the level of (mis)information at, at least, the University of South Africa, where Pooley lectures. In a footnote, he mentions, too, that he has “since 2013 mentored hundreds of teachers from across Gauteng as part of a community engagement project sponsored by the Department of Art History, Visual Arts and Musicology at the University of South Africa, and run in collaboration with the Gauteng DoE [Department of Education]. On average 50 teachers per year attend workshops where they are taught music and visual arts” (Pooley 2016, 653). Pooley gives no indication regarding what “music” these teachers are taught, or whether it relates directly to the information required to teach the CAPS content at school, or whether indeed any textbooks as approved by the DBE are discussed or utilised.

This glaring omission could form the basis for further research concerning the knowledge of academics in charge of the training of music teachers at universities of the resources approved by the DBE, and how these are utilised in their own curricula to prepare teachers to teach. Further research could involve determining how many recently‑graduated teachers are using, or requesting their schools to provide, the LTSM approved by the DBE. This research could go a considerable way in helping to ascertain the reasons underpinning poor/good/excellent learner achievement.

The Senior Phase

Pooley states categorically that “In schools where drama, dance or visual arts are preferred by teachers, there will be no music at all” (Pooley 2016: 645). Let us assume that a school omits music and chooses one of the other options: drama and dance; or dance and visual arts; or drama and visual arts. It is close to impossible to imagine any one of these three combinations as being able to exclude, in its totality, “music”. The Dance and Drama curricula both require knowledge of music terminology, ranging from the definition of phrasing, rhythm and beat, through to being able to move to, and to improvise to,

music. In combination with Visual Arts, it is not possible to avoid gaining at least some knowledge of music too. Teachers with a knowledge of these three arts subjects can, in my experience, easily refer to music examples as they relate to their own areas of specialisation, and, since music is included in a generalist way in their own training, they can teach it. Music students at university, by contrast, seldom (if ever) are introduced to drama (most lecturers would be hard‑pressed to explain how rhetorical principles influenced Baroque and Classical music, or opera), dance terms (despite “teaching” opera), or the visual arts (whether discussing Impressionism, Expressionism, any other “ism”, or performance art). It is therefore no wonder that school principals would rather exclude “music” from their timetable than appoint a “music teacher” who cannot address his/her subject as it relates to any one of the other arts subjects.

This is, yet again, an indictment not of the DBE, but of the paucity of the training of music graduates, and even more so, of the paucity of the training of music teachers. There are excellent books for the Creative Arts that have been approved by the DBE and, since no book that does not cover the entire CAPS content is ever approved for use in schools, it also indicates that many music lecturers (and, by diffusion, their graduates) do not know – or even understand – that all it takes for a music graduate to be able to teach the Creative Arts, is to buy one of these textbooks, page through it, decide on the arts subject in which s/he is most interested, read all about it, and then to apply the guidelines provided in the teacher’s guide.

One cannot even present the argument that there is only one book available, and that one does not “like” its approach: the DBE lists approved books, in either English or Afrikaans, produced by Oxford University Press, Via Afrika Publishers, Maskew Miller Longman, Cambridge University Press, Macmillan South Africa, and Shuter and Shooter. There is no paucity of material, simply paucity of knowledge and of real involvement with the education system, and with what a teacher is meant to teach.

This glaring lack of knowledge could, in this phase too, form the basis for further research concerning the knowledge of academics in charge of the training of music teachers at universities of the resources approved by the DBE, and how these are utilised in their own curricula to prepare teachers to teach. Further research could involve determining how many recently‑graduated teachers are using, or requesting their schools to provide, the resource materials approved by the DBE in their own classrooms. Yet further research could determine how many non‑musically trained teachers are teaching music in this phase where specialisation starts to be encouraged, and how they are coping with their responsibilities. The views of school principals regarding the appointment of teachers for the Creative Arts also need to be investigated.

The Further Education and Training Phase

Teaching music in the three final school years is decidedly challenging. The curriculum presupposes that a learner may not have had access to a specialist music teacher in the Senior Phase, and is aligned so that basic music literacy is revised in the first two terms of Grade 10. An excellent inclusion concerns what constitutes “music” and “sound”, which is easily extended to cover sound waves and basic acoustics to encourage alignment with mathematics, physical science and technology.

It is only in this phase where learners finally choose an instrument on which to perform, and they may choose to do voice, which accommodates those who do not have a “chromatic marimbas, pianos and organs” at their disposal, a lack that Pooley finds extremely disturbing (Pooley 2016: 647). It would, incidentally, be interesting to know how many public schools, whether in rural or urban areas, lay claim to having those instruments, and when and why they were purchased.

Apart from the voice, a wide variety of instruments that may be offered for the practical component of the examination – including steel pans and indigenous instruments – is listed. Many instruments require specific physical development to be able to be played properly; the flute, trumpet and saxophone, for example, require control over the embouchure and a level of breath control that is only possible after the age of about 15. No learner will therefore be disadvantaged by not having access to an instrument like a piano or an organ, or even a chromatic marimba.

In this phase, the curriculum is divided into three topics; other subjects may refer to “themes”. Topic 1 relates to practical performance; Topic 2 relates to developing a general music literacy; Topic 3 addresses general musical knowledge related to history and, in the case of indigenous music, performance practice. Learners may choose to specialise in Western art music (WAM, but still obtain a solid grounding in Jazz and indigenous African music), Jazz (but still obtain a solid grounding in Western art music and indigenous African music) or indigenous African music (IAM, but still obtain a solid grounding in Western art music and Jazz). Throughout the phase there are sections that are common to all three streams, ensuring that a broad knowledge base is created.

It may be argued that the writers of this section of CAPS were over‑ambitious. What is, however, clear, is that they were determined that no style of music would predominate over any other; that learners and teachers should, ideally, be able to choose the style in which they wished to specialise; and that WAM, Jazz and IAM would be presented at similar cognitive levels. This curriculum reflects a truly multicultural approach that is difficult to challenge with any conviction, and simultaneously provided universities with the opportunity to develop degree courses that would address the needs of a diversity of learners. Research that attempts to determine why universities chose not to follow this route is long overdue.

Because of the requirements of DBE that all the content stipulated in CAPS needs to be included in a textbook before it is approved, it comes as no surprise to find that not a single major publisher attempted the project, which essentially requires that three textbooks, covering three musical styles combined into one publication, should be written. A few small, individual efforts were initially produced: the earliest discussed only IAM, and ignored the knowledge required for Topics 2 and 3; others attempted to persuade the DBE that a book covering only WAM as required in Topic 3, or the improvisation component covered in Topic 1, or some kind of general “appreciation” or “notation”, aimed at no particular grade and emphasising “African” content, should be used. Pooley maintains that Christine Lucia’s Music Notation: A South African Guide (Unisa Press 2011) “normalises the practise of music literacy as a South African [sic] institution” and then asks, “What other options are there for schools practising indigenous musical arts that do not conform to such literacies?” (Pooley 2016: 650). He is, perhaps, not aware of the damning review of this book written by Hendrik Hofmeyr (Hofmeyr 2016). Hofmeyr lists the most disturbing of the errors that it contains, and finally judges it to be “virtually

unusable as a pedagogical tool, owing to the dismayingly large number of errors it contains” (Hofmeyr 2016: 100). As I have already indicated, there are numerous “music primers” (as Hofmeyr correctly categorises Lucia’s work) that do the job efficiently, correctly, and using a wide range of musical examples. There is no reason to use a book that is not also pedagogically sound when there are numerous and far better local textbooks available.

Not one of the books that did not deal with the curriculum as envisaged by the DBE was approved for use in schools; the reviewers obviously know the subject intimately enough to recognise when a book would be more a hindrance than a help. The clear message to authors and publishers is that music is no different to any other subject when it comes to setting standards for LTSM. It also indirectly sends a clear message to future curriculum writers: if a curriculum is, for whatever reason, not teachable at all schools in South Africa, and if it is close to impossible for experienced educational publishers to produce the LTSM required, it needs rethinking.

Schools in Quintile 1 cannot charge fees. They receive an annual government subsidy, the “School Allocation”, calculated per enrolled learner. This allocation is intended to cover non-personnel expenses, including textbooks and other LTSM (Pandor 2006: 27ff). The school principal must allocate these funds correctly and supply textbooks to learners. The Department of Basic Education provides extra funds if there are unforeseen influxes into a school. A shortage of resources—and accepting that a piano is not a basic resource but that a computer is, even for music learners—should therefore be blamed not on the DBE but on teachers who do not know what textbooks exist and do not request them. Ultimately, a teacher’s ignorance traces back to the institution where they themselves were educated.

As noted earlier, the DBE has approved textbooks for every subject from Grades R–12, and schools can buy these from their school allocation. In 2015, total public-school enrolment was 12,224,654, with only 566,194 learners (about 4.6%) in private independent schools (Administrator 2016). The report does not give the demographic profile of those attending private schools, and it would be wrong to infer that only one cultural or ethnic group is represented there. Pooley implies both that and that many private schools fuel growing inequality in South African education. This is a questionable interpretation of reality. A prudent move would be to study the annual examination results, which show growing numbers of learners from rural areas—with limited resources but dedicated teachers and functional schools—achieving excellent results.

Research into Grade 12 music learners is long overdue. How many of them continue music at tertiary level? Whatever their choice, why do they make it? How does the difficulty of first-year university work compare with their Grade 12 experience? How well do the two stages align? And which stage do they experience as cognitively more demanding? It would also be valuable to investigate which instruments learners choose for the practical examination and whether universities know about or can cope with those choices.

Conclusion

Pooley finally calls for a review of a curriculum that, as of 2017, had been in place for only four years. As has been shown, that call rests on many misconceptions about South African education in general and music education in particular.

Regular reviews of all qualifications and curricula are legally required within the National Qualifications Framework (NQF). The current curriculum is scheduled for review in 2019/20.

The review process will be lengthy and demanding. The Minister will appoint advisors who will nominate members for a steering committee. That committee will hold meetings to decide the general direction of the review. The direction will be common to all phases and learning areas, and the process usually starts with the Foundation Phase, followed successively by the others. In other words, the FET phase must always align the first term of Grade 10 with the last term of Grade 9.

Initial work and agreement among subcommittees typically take 2–3 years; in practice, that means completion around 2021/22. The resulting documents will be published for public comment in the Government Gazette. Comments will be reviewed, accepted, or rejected, and a final document will be ready for the legal process about one year later, in 2022/23. Only then will the DBE ask publishers to develop new LTSM, and the approval criteria will be announced. If the new curriculum is approved in 2022, publishers will probably have until 2023 to produce LTSM. The approval process will likely conclude in 2024, when the new LTSM catalogue is published.

Implementation of a new curriculum is normally phased to allow teachers time for additional training. So the likely timeframe is:

- 2025: Grades R/1, 4, 7, 10 - 2026: Grades 2, 5, 8, 11 - 2027: Grades 3, 6, 9, 12

Universities and teachers are therefore obliged to teach according to the current curriculum for at least another 8–10 years. Understanding this process fully, and recognising that music is not some elusive holy grail but a subject like any other, should make the universities’ work far easier throughout.

As demonstrated in this article, the missing links in the articulation chain lie between the FET phase’s end and tertiary education’s first year, and between graduation and entry into teaching. It is time to demand that universities align their courses with the Grade 12 curriculum and base admission requirements on the work needed to pass that exam—in other words, to apply the Recognition of Prior Learning (RPL) policy correctly. University lecturers must show a deeper knowledge of the South African education system and available LTSM, especially when writing articles or engaging in “teacher training”.

One of the most important steps would be for universities to prescribe textbooks, at least for music teacher training. Yet prescribing textbooks and engaging critically with them has become an activity confined to courses for future professionals—advocates, engineers, doctors, chefs. As long as music lecturers attribute their achievements to their own genius and encourage students to do the same by avoiding prescribed books, music education in South Africa cannot change, and the view of music teachers as “non-professionals” will persist.

It would also be fitting for university lecturers to produce a series of textbooks or online lectures to train music teachers across the country, but these must first consider what already exists. Encouraging students to engage critically, rather than emotionally, with available textbooks is already a huge step forward for music education. What are the shortcomings of the current LTSM for music? Do the music textbooks now available for Grades 10–12 address what students should know when entering tertiary education? If not, what should be added? What could be expanded, omitted, or amended? How do graduates imagine that learning about “music” will change in the next 10–20 years? How would that affect their teaching strategies? None of these questions can be tackled without first engaging seriously with the prescribed material.

One does not need a curriculum review to make a difference. One should simply teach what is required, provide input when asked, and encourage students to think critically. To separate university education and teacher training from the DBE’s demands is the surest way to ensure that music is removed as a school subject.