As a music teacher, we are ingrained to promote a specific kind of “audience etiquette”. In fact, the Colorado state standards explicitly call out audience etiquette at the middle and high school grade levels. In the past, I was completely comfortable with the definition of audience etiquette as it pertained to silence, polite clapping, staying seated, and paying attention to the performer.
Last Fall, I joined The Spirituals Project Choir at the University of Denver. Our mission, in part, is to “preserve and revitalize the music and teachings of the sacred songs called Spirituals”. Being a part of this choir is one of the best things I have done for myself both musically and spiritually. It is comprised of mostly African American and Caucasian singers. For the first several months, I was the only Hispanic member.
A few months ago, our choir was asked to perform at New Hope Baptist Church as a recipient of the Choir of the Year award. This was my first experience in a predominantly African American church and only the second time I had ever been to a Baptist church. Growing up Catholic, I was used to a very rigid and scripted service. Everything had its place--when to sit, when to stand, when to sing, and when to recite. Spontaneity and vocal outbursts were not acceptable. Parishioners generally behaved with good “audience etiquette” and would have passed the state standard on that mark. Most Catholic churches even had a crying room, where you could remove yourself if, heaven forbid, you became emotional. So, when our choir sat in the loft and listened to the service as we waited for our turn to sing, I was struck by the interaction between the Pastor and the congregation. To me, it felt less like preaching and more like a conversation, as evidence of the multiple verbal responses and bursts of applause.
Then it was time to sing. As most of our selections are a capella (without instrumental accompaniment), a great deal of concentration is required to stay in time and in tune with fellow singers. A few measures into our first selection, I heard a loud noise from the congregation. Not expecting it, the intrusive noise startled me and broke my concentration. And then it happened again...and again. And then it hit me. It was coming from the audience. They were vocally responding to our performance. The cries and shouts, that I would have normally regarded as poor etiquette (according to the state standard), were actually the greatest compliment of all. Folks were moved by our music and showing us how much they were moved by “conversing” with us the same way they had with their Pastor.
I finally understood what was happening. I was in the middle of an emotional exchange with other human beings through music, a deep connection--even if a brief one. How profound and beautiful! Isn’t that the ultimate goal of music making? My heart was suddenly full and the welling up in my throat almost prevented me from finishing the song. Yet, I was inspired to reciprocate with more fervor.
I began to wonder... Do we interpret shouting out as engagement or as disruption in the classroom? Imagine what we could accomplish by capitalizing on this type of deep communal and emotional exchange with our students. If we can change our perspective to accept this type of engagement as an asset rather than a deficit, what would that look like? Maybe it’s not so much about asking students to code-switch while they are at school to adapt to the “culture of school” but that our school culture is what needs to be adapted.
P.S. I now serve on the revision committee for the state standards and have proposed the removal of the audience etiquette standard.
