Literature as a Path to Deeper Meaning in Music

By Amy Heitzman

 Rationale

It appears that my motto as a teacher will be: "Music does not exist in a vacuum." Just as music as often been seen only as an enrichment subject, I am now going to treat literature as an enrichment resource for my Choral Classroom. Music has much to offer the soul, but it is often hampered by the fact that the musicians fail to connect it to the greater context of their lives. Choral music has an added benefit of using words. It becomes easier to figure out what the message the music is expressing. On the other hand, the words then need an explanation. Often the music behind the words does seem to fit the meaning of the text, and we must struggle toward a complete understanding of the message. Many times, people take for granted the musical background, and never look at the text alone. Both extremes are unhealthy. Text and music must be melded together, and our understanding of them must be balanced.

In an effort to achieve this balance, I have compiled a list of Read-Alouds for my classroom. Each passage is accompanied by the specific situation where it would be best applied. Sometimes this means just reading it and letting the students soak it in, sometimes this will lead to a class discussion, and sometimes it will be an appetizer for an out of class project.

Book Summary

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings is Maya Angelou’s autobiography of the first sixteen years of her life. The story began as she and her brother, Bailey, (aged three and four, respectively,) were shipped by their Mother from California to Stamps, Arkansas, to live with their paternal grandmother, whom they called Momma. They lived with Momma and their Uncle Willie and helped them run a general store. When Maya was eight and her brother, nine, they were sent to live with their Mother, then in St. Louis, Missouri. During their year in the big city, Maya was raped by her Mother’s boyfriend. Her Uncles killed him for this, and Maya decided not to speak to adults. She reasoned that the rape was her fault, and he had been killed because of her words, so she would keep people from dying by not speaking. Not long after this, she and Bailey were sent back to Momma in Arkansas. During this period, Mrs. Flowers taught Maya about the power of the spoken word, and she made her first best friend, Louise. After Maya graduated from Jr. High, she and Bailey were sent back to their Mother, who had gone back to San Francisco, California.

Living in the Fillmore district during World War Two, Maya felt as if she was a part of something for the first time. While she spent one summer with her father in Los Angeles, she learned (the hard way,) how to drive a car when she had to drive him, drunkenly passed out, home from a trip to Mexico. Shortly after this episode, she ran away and spent a month with a group of homeless youths. She grew up more quickly after her time on the streets. High school was harder to concentrate on, so she fought against racism and became the first African-American conductor on the streetcar system. The book ended just as she began life with her newborn son, who’s conception occurred during Maya’s deliberate experiment with sexual intercourse. The book ended with an open door, rather than a closed one. Throughout her autobiography, Maya Angelou described the settings of her life in Arkansas, St. Louis and California. She shed light on a completely different lifestyle than my own. I enjoyed her insights as much as I enjoyed the story itself.

About the Author

Maya Angelou, born Marguerite Johnson, is an author, poet, historian, conductor, actress, dancer, singer, songwriter, playwright, film director, and civil rights activist. She has lived in America, South Africa and Egypt, and speaks French, Spanish, Italian, and West African Fanti fluently. Ms. Angelou has published books, poems, essays, articles and screenplays. She has also won recognition awards for many of her creations and efforts. She has also worked with Martin Luther King, Jr, and presidents Gerald Ford and Bill Clinton. Currently, Ms. Angelou lectures throughout the United States and abroad and recently has been a Reynolds professor of American Studies at Wake Forest University in North Carolina.

Reader Response

Ms. Angelou has a familiar way of writing that drew me in to her story immediately. There is something about her style that draws out creativity in her readers. The night after I began to seriously read her book, I had incredibly vivid dreams, and at some point, my mind made connections on a subject that I had been struggling with. Unfortunately, whatever epiphany I had was left in the land of dreams. I mourn the loss.

I think this book would be an excellent resource for my choral students. It is a well-written piece of literature that deals with the very stages of life they would be familiar with. It would be appropriate for both boys and girls. Though it is written from a female perspective, the female is very strong, and there are many male characters in the story with important roles and deep effects on the main character. Most of all, if there was ever a piece of writing that should engender respect in the men for the female gender, this book is where it could be found. There was one attempt in Texas to ban it, but I think my students will be mature enough to handle the material, some of which deals with rape, lesbianism, sex, and running away from home. I will read selected portions aloud in class. I will also be able to deal one on one with any of them who want to borrow the book for their own reading.

Read-Alouds:

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, pp. 97-98

Setting: Ten-year old Marguerite is helping Mrs. Flowers, a Black gentlewoman, bring home groceries.

"Come along with me, Marguerite."

I couldn’t have refused even if I wanted to. She pronounced my name so nicely. Or more correctly, she spoke each word with such clarity that I was certain a foreigner who didn’t understand English could have understood her.

"Now no one is going to make you talk – possibly no one can. But bear in mind, language is man’s way of communicating with his fellow man and it is language alone which separates him from the lower animals." That was a totally new idea to me, and I would need time to think about it.

"Your grandmother says you read a lot. Every chance you get. That’s good, but not good enough. Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with the shades of deeper meaning."

I memorized the part about the human voice infusing words. It seemed so valid and poetic.

She said she was going to give me some books and that I not only must read them, I must read them aloud. She suggested that I try to make a sentence sound in as many different ways as possible.

I chose this section of Angelou’s book because of the message it has about the power the voice gives to words. This includes both speaking and singing, I think. My experience has been that singers often do not connect the words they are singing with their musical setting. In the rehearsal setting, I would read this passage after singing through a song that has ambiguous lyrics or lyrics that used figurative or unfamiliar language. This passage would be a starting point for a discussion about interpreting those lyrics. We would practice different emphases and discuss their impact on the expression of the lyrics – what they would be perceived by an audience to mean. Working with vocal music has this added element of expressing musical line and words. Using this passage and others like it as catalysts, we will, as a class, discover how to synthesize the two elements effectively.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, pp. 124-125

Setting: A revival tent meeting during Maya’s childhood.

Mrs. Duncan, a little woman with a bird face, started the service. "I know I’m a witness for my Lord . . . I know I’m a witness for my Lord, I know I’m a witness . . ."

Her voice, a skinny finger, stabbed high up in the air and the church responded. From somewhere down front came the jangling sound of a tambourine. Two beats on "know," two beats on "I’m a" and two beats on the end of "witness."

Other voices joined the near shriek of Mrs. Duncan. The crowded around and tenderized the tone. When the song reached its peak in sound and passion, a tall, thin man who had been kneeling behind the altar all the while stood up and sang with the audience for a few bars. He stretched out his long arms and grasped the platform. It took some time for the singers to come off their level of exultation, but the minister stood resolute until the song unwound like a child’s play toy and lay quieted in the aisles. "Amen." He looked at the audience.

"Yes sir, Amen." Nearly everyone seconded him.

"I say, Let the church say ‘Amen.’"

Everyone said, "Amen."

"Thank the Lord. Thank the Lord."

"That’s right. Thank the Lord. Yes, Lord. Amen."

"We will have prayer, led by Brother Bishop."

Another tall, brown-skinned man wearing square glasses walked up to the altar from the front row. The minister knelt at the right and Brother Bishop at the left.

"Our Father" – he was singing – "You who took my feet out the mire and clay – "

The church moaned, "Amen."

"You who saved my soul, one day. Look sweet Jesus. Look down, on these your suffering children – "

The church begged, "Look down, Lord."

"Build us up where we’re torn down . . . Bless the sick and afflicted . . . "

It was the usual prayer. Only his voice gave it something new. After every two words he gasped and dragged the air over his vocal chords, making a sound like an inverted grunt. "You who" - grunt – "saved my" – gasp – "soul one" – inhalation – "day" – humph.

Note: This passage continues through p. 31. There is a fount of material about the cultural context and sub-meanings of spirituals and preaching within.

This portion of Angelou’s book is a wonderful example of the motivation and style of singing African-American Spiritual songs. When Caucasian singers try to sing Spirituals, they are usually out of their element stylistically; they don’t honor the tradition as they should. In my experience, they don’t take the time to learn it correctly. In an attempt to change that stereotype, (which in most cases is actually well deserved,) I want to educate my students about different singing traditions. This passage is priceless for my purpose. It illustrates stylistic tendencies, historical background, the energy involved in singing this music, and some of the emotions behind it. I would not concentrate on the fact that this is a church service, because I don’t to run into religious debates in class. Yet, this is the natural setting of spiritual singing, just as much of our European repertoire was originally intended for the church. Students should not be denied access to either genre, for they are a part of our musical history.

In rehearsal, we would analyze the different elements found in the passage, and reconstruct as much as would be appropriate for use in a concert performance. This could also be a launching point for a research project that the students could complete outside of class time. [For more information on this, talk to Dr. Wilson... she has my lesson plan. : ) ]

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, p. 184.

If we were a people much given to revealing secrets, we might raise monuments and sacrifices to the memories of our poets, but slavery cured us of that weakness. In may be enough, however, to have it said that we survive in exact relationship to the dedication of our poets (include preachers, musicians and blues singers).

This quote is an explanation of the way African-Americans pass on their traditions and honor. It makes the songs we sing more important, because they are the tradition. We have a responsibility to pass on African-American music the same way they would, so that the preservation is accurate and consistent. I would use this passage as a read aloud as our concert date draws near, as a reminder of why we are singing a spiritual, and as a gentle reinforcement of our privilege of being able to sing it.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, p. 254

Setting: Maya is fifteen, and has just spent a month on the streets of San Fransisco. She has been living in an abandoned car lot with a gang of homeless youths.

After a month my thinking process had so changed that I was hardly recognizable to myself. The unquestioning acceptance by my peers had dislodged the familiar insecurity. Odd that the homeless children, the silt of war frenzy, could initiate me into the brotherhood of man. After hunting down unbroken bottles and selling them with a White girl from Missouri, a Mexican girl from Los Angeles and a Black girl from Oklahoma, I was never again to sense myself so solidly outside the pale of the human race. The lack of criticism evidenced by our ad hoc community influenced me, and set a tone of tolerance for my life.

Sometimes, high school students are weighed down by their need to be accepted. This would be one of those passages I would pull out and read when the choir is looking or acting especially weighted. It is a grand permission to feel comfortable with whom you are as a person, without the extra attitudes.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, p. 218

The allegiances I owed at this time in my life would have made very strange bedfellows: Momma with her solemn determination, Mrs. Flowers and her books, Bailey with his love, my mother and her gaiety, Miss Kirwin and her information, my evening classes of drama and dance.

This paragraph would be a good way to begin a discussion about fitting all the different parts of our lives together. High school students are being encouraged to do more and more things these days, and they are often trying to balance several different parts of their lives. Sometimes that will be a necessary part of class. They will need as many tools as we (teachers,) can give them, plus a lot of understanding.

Wouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now, p. 91-92

"At Harvesttime"

There is an immutable life principle with which many people will quarrel. Although nature has proven season in and season out that if the thing that is planted bears at all, it will yield more of itself, there are those who seem certain that if they plant tomato seeds, at harvesttime they can reap onions.

Too many times for comfort I have expected to reap good when I know I have sown evil. My lame excuse is that I have not always known that actions can only reproduce themselves, or rather, I have not always allowed myself to be aware of that knowledge. Now, after years of observation and enough courage to admit what I observed, I try to plant peace if I do not want discord; to plant loyalty and honesty if I want to avoid betrayal and lies.

Of course, there is no absolute assurance that those things I plant will always fall upon arable land and will take root and grow, nor can I know if another cultivator did not leave contrary seeds before I arrived. I do know, however, that if I leave little to chance, if I am careful about the kinds of seeds I plant, about their potency and nature, I can, within reason, trust my expectations.

This would be the perfect thing to read to my students in the very first class, as a introduction. The ideas put forth in this essay are the approach to life that I have begun to take in recent years, and I want my students to have some idea of where I’m coming from and what kind of expectations I have of them. After reading this aloud, I may send them out on a hunt for a piece of writing that reflects their approach to life in some way or ask them to write their own philosophy of life. They could share their findings or writings in class. I have two intentions for giving this assignment. First, I know that the more closely connected an ensemble is, the more they listen to one another and produce a unified sound. Second, I want to know where my students are coming from so that I can understand them, they can understand each other, and they can get to know themselves. Reflection is good for the soul!

"Indeterminacy, No. 118,"

One day when I was studying with Schoenberg, he pointed out the eraser on his pencil and said, "This end is more important than the other." After twenty years I learned to write directly in ink. Recently, when David Tudor returned from Europe, he brought me a German pencil of modern make. It can carry any size of lead. Pressure on a shaft at the end of the holder frees the lead so that it can be removed or extended or removed and another put in its place. A sharpener comes with the pencil. The sharpener offers not one but several possibilities. That is, one may choose the kind of point he wishes. There is no eraser.

There are 185 more short anecdotes like this on the internet at http://lcdf.org/indeterminacy/s.cgi. John Cage was an important composer from the twentieth century. He was valued for his compositions, his philosophy of music, and his experiments with the definition of music. I could use daily anecdotes in my rehearsal. They range in tone from humorous to sage advice. Their randomness, a distinctive trait of Cage’s philosophy and experiments, is their only unifying factor. Their value lies not only in their ideas, but also in the people involved in the stories. They are taken from the experience of Cage and others, and they read like a "Who’s Who?" of twentieth century music and thinking. Each one is an opportunity for the students to meet an important pedagogue or composer.

 Reflection

When this project was assigned, I felt like I was trying to conquer the impossible task. How was I supposed to bring literature into a class that students take to get away from literature? The project began to take shape in my mind while I was working on my fifth draft of my Annotated Bibliography. On the recommendation of Dr. Slick, I began to read, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, purely for pleasure. I had bought it, (along with Angelou’s Wouldn’t Take Nothin’ for My Journey Now and her complete Poems,) one day while I was waiting for the Stevens Point Library to open. (I needed to check out the book I was going to use in my Read-Aloud in class that day. Unfortunately, the Library didn’t open until 9:30 am, the same time class started. That’s another story in itself!) They ended up being a wise purchase, because I used two of the three books in my project, and will definitely use the Poems in the future as well.

As I was saying, I didn’t begin reading the book for the purpose of this project, but as a private endeavor. I was so inspired by the writing in it, though, that its role in my Young Adult Literature Project almost wrote itself. The idea to introduce literature into my choir rehearsals, slowly, through Read-Alouds, formed in my head naturally. After they were used to this, I would introduce the research project to my top choir. I could make it a special senior project thing that they did every year. We could build a database of historical information and the like for future generations to use.

The only part of the project that I worry about is my lack of writing elements. They were not in the original description of the project that I chose, but they are in the rubric. They don’t really fit within what I could realistically see myself assigning my classes to do, so I have decided to leave them out. I came up with a compromise. I may be taking my teacher role a step too far, but I have included a modified rubric that fits my project specifications as they were laid out in our original handout. Feel free to rule it out. I have also included the rubric you handed out. It’s on the reverse side of my rubric, beneath my printing boo-boo.

Working on this project has caused a greater project to form in my mind. As a long-term goal, I want to compile a list of standard songs that I will repeat every few years. Then I will add to the song list Read-Alouds that would be taught along with each song. The songs will be divided into categories of lyric subject, genre, historical period, etc. I can then begin a database of writings by authors and poets of the corresponding time periods, cultures and even philosophies.

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