A Pedagogy of Love in Music Education

TATYANA C. LOUIS-JACQUES
University of North Texas

December 2025

Published in Action, Criticism, and Theory for Music Education 24 (7): 7–24 [pdf]. https://doi.org/10.22176/act24.7.7


Abstract: In current educational discourse, love is often dismissed as idealistic, abstract, or inappropriate. While there is a potential for inappropriate behavior by educators, the eschewing of loving connection within music classrooms is not a viable path forward. This inquiry draws upon the work of bell hooks, Paulo Freire, Erich Fromm, and Thich Nhat Hahn to argue that the potential for love to shape the music education experience is profound, offering a lens through which students and educators alike can see themselves, their relationships, their work, and their communities. Within a pedagogy of love, love is understood as both the feelings of affection one has towards others and a multi-faceted collection of dispositions and commitments one makes to nurturing themselves and others. Loving music educators are those whose actions are rooted in a commitment to loving, focusing less about what they should not do and instead on what they should do.

Keywords: Love, pedagogy, music education, bell hooks, Erich Fromm, Paulo Freire, Thich Nhat Hahn


 

“All spheres of American life … should and could have as their foundation a love ethic.” – bell hooks

[1]

Critical pedagogy and its place within music education has long been discussed. Some music educators oppose the tenants of critical pedagogy and argue that the purpose of education is not to liberate students but to focus solely on subject matter goals. William Perrine (2019) stated that “the conservative perspective at this point is not that traditional educational approaches are neutral (they are not), but rather that progressive educators do not have the unilateral moral right to utilize the apparatus of state education to enact social transformation through the ‘liberation’ of children” (179). Others have championed critical pedagogy and put forth various ways its tenets could be applied within music education. For example, Frank Abrahams’ (2005) Critical Pedagogy for Music Education (CPME) combined the work of critical theory and pedagogy with experiential learning in order to aid students and teachers in growing their musicianship through “critical thinking, critical action, and critical feeling” (8). There also exists a middle ground of music educators who agree with the overall aims of critical pedagogy but are wary of how it has been applied within music classrooms (e.g., Hess 2017).

I wholly support using critical pedagogy within music education but have found that an integral part of its foundation is rarely mentioned in these discussions—the importance of love. Paulo Freire (1970, 2005) wrote about radical love and thought it impossible to teach without the courage to love. Similarly, Joe Kincheloe (2008) argued that “love is the basis of an education that seeks justice, equality, and genius” (3) and that critical pedagogy was a way of increasing one’s capacity to love. Despite this, very few music educators refer to love, let alone center it within discussions of pedagogy.[2]

This exclusion may be due to the fact that love is often dismissed as idealistic, unnecessary, or even inappropriate within contemporary educational discourse. In an Education Week opinion piece titled “I Don’t Have to Love My Students to Be a Good Teacher,” eighth grade English teacher Jherine Wilkerson (2022) stated, “what I really need as a teacher is a distinct line between my profession and myself. I work as a teacher. Being a teacher is what I do professionally. It is what pays my bills. I need parents to know that it is their job to love their kids and my job is to teach them.” Although classroom realities do not always match school policies, such sentiments may influence official documents meant to guide teacher practice.

In their adaptation of the InTASC Model Core Teaching Standards, which originally included “developing close teacher-learner relationships” and considering “individual learners’ strengths, interests, and needs” (Council of Chief State School Officers 2011), the New Jersey Department of Education (2014) removed that language and instead mandates that teachers maintain “professional relationships with students” (2) and “address each student’s diverse learning strengths and needs” (15, emphasis added). Such a change not only implies that a “close” relationship is not a “professional” relationship but that an educator’s professional responsibility is solely students’ learning rather than their overall well-being. A concern for the nature of teacher-student relationships is not without its legitimate reasons, especially given the way love is often used as a defense by teachers when caught engaging in inappropriate romantic and/or sexual relations with students (Cho 2005). This defense, however, not only weaponizes the idea of love but relies on a limited understanding of love as erotic and sexual. While I recognize the potential for and existence of inappropriate behavior by educators, I do not think the answer should be eschewing loving connection within the classroom. In Texas, the educator code of ethics outlines several things one “shall not” do regarding their conduct towards colleagues and students, advising teachers to be “prudent” in their interactions (Texas Rule §247.2 2018). However, these codes make no mention of what educators should do to best support their students, primarily relying on negative assertions.

In this inquiry I argue that music education, like all forms of education, can benefit from the open and intentional inclusion of love. Inspired by the critical pedagogy of bell hooks (1994, 2003, 2010), I draw upon her work and those whose ideas she built upon—namely Erich Fromm, Thich Nhat Hahn, and Paulo Freire—in order to explore how various definitions of love can inform music education philosophy and practice, describe how love can manifest in the actions of music educators, and discuss its potential to foster more meaningful, inclusive, and equitable school music environments. Centering love, not as part of a larger philosophy but as a guiding pedagogical principle, can serve as a way of determining what music educators shall do.

Defining Love

Understanding that “a good definition marks our starting point and lets us know where we want to end up,” bell hooks (2001) argued that one of the largest obstacles to our learning how to love is the lack of a clear definition for love (14). When writing about love, some have referenced the ancient Greek forms of love—eros, philia, and agape—which can be translated as erotic love, love between friends, and unconditional love towards the world, respectively (e.g., Cloninger 2008; O’Connor et al. 2020). In Love as Pedagogy, Tim Loreman (2011) discussed ways love can be understood within psychological, philosophical, and religious frameworks. Love can also be a noun—a feeling towards someone or something, a sexual act driven by physical desire, an abstract wanting to be completed—or a verb—“to love is to burn, to be on fire” (Lee 1995)—and sometimes both simultaneously (Jorgensen 2021, 81–88). Here I share two framings of the concept—love as art and love as a combination of theory and practice—followed by what Fromm, Hanh, and hooks understood to be foundational elements of love.

Love as Art

“Is love an art? Then it requires knowledge and effort.” – Erich Fromm

[3]

In the preface to The Art of Loving, German psychologist, psychoanalyst, and philosopher Erich Fromm (1956) warned that his book was not a manual on how to love but an attempt to convince readers to put in the work needed to love. Questioning why attempts at loving regularly fail, he listed several premises[4] that lead to people thinking there is nothing to be learned about love. Rejecting this notion, Fromm instead argued that love was a learned art form, much like music, that requires active effort and discipline. He stated that in order to successfully love, one must first “become aware that love is an art, just as living is an art; if we want to learn how to love we must proceed in the same way we have to proceed if we want to learn any other art, say music” (5, emphasis original).

Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh (2015) shared this view of love as art, writing that “each of us can learn the art of nourishing happiness and love.… love means to learn the art of nourishing our happiness” (11). Much like music, the capacity to learn the art of love exists in everyone, with one’s ability to love benefiting from the existence of loving models within supportive environments. Moreover, learning to love requires intentionality. Improvement comes only when time and attention are given to its growth.

A Combination of Theory and Practice

Learning to love is a process that begins with the desire to learn, but as Hanh (2015) stated, “the willingness and aspiration to love is not yet love” (60). What must follow is the mastery of theory and the mastery of practice (Fromm 1956). According to Fromm (1956), theory is the theoretical knowledge relating to an artform, including knowledge of and about its history, practices, materials, and so forth. Mastery of theory for a professional trumpet player would involve knowledge of standard and alternate fingerings, all major and minor scales, transposition, how to count compound meters, etc. There are several parts to Fromm’s theory of love, but the aspects most relevant to music education are understanding humanity’s need for connection, “the quest for union” (13), that love is not “primarily a relationship to a specific person” (43), and the existence of multiple types of love.[5] Mastery of practice requires putting knowledge into action, and over time one’s theoretical knowledge and the results from their practice will combine into mastery of their art. Simply knowing what love is does not make one loving but, “the more you practice, the more you see your love growing and growing until there is no limit” (Hanh 2015, 74).

Without theory, there is nothing to practice. Without practice, one cannot implement theory. An educational commitment to both theory and practice manifests in the work of Paulo Freire (1970). He taught that transforming our world requires human activity and “human activity is theory and practice; it is reflection and action” (125). Theory sans action is akin to “idle chatter” (87), while action not rooted in theory and reflection leads to treating one’s students as objects, rather than subjects. Liberatory praxis, “reflection and action upon the world in order to transform it” (51), is an act of love: love of the world, love of life, and love of people.

Elements of Love

I now turn to an exploration of what constitutes love. Fromm, Hanh, and hooks all understand love to be a combination of several interconnected, foundational elements. For the sake of analysis, I consider each thinker’s concepts separately.

Erich Fromm

For Fromm (1956), the basic elements that constitute love are care, responsibility, respect, and knowledge. Care is an active concern for the life and growth of that which we love, whether it be flowers, a family pet, or other human beings. Responsibility, rather than being an externally imposed duty, is defined as “an entirely voluntary act … my response to the needs, expressed or unexpressed, of another human being” (26). Similarly, writer and social critic Roxane Gay (2023) described responsibility as a self-imposed obligation to exert effort. To demonstrate care and responsibility in the classroom would mean to willingly respond to the needs of one’s students and colleagues, even when it is difficult. Agreeing to observe someone else teach and giving them thoughtful feedback, writing out new parts to include students who play non-traditional ensemble instruments, or modifying drill to meet a student’s accessibility needs could all be ways a music educator chooses to fulfill their self-imposed obligations.

Respect refers to the autonomy of the person one loves and allowing them to exist and grow as they are: it is “the absence of exploitation” (Fromm 1956, 26). A respectful music educator commits to viewing students as ends in themselves, not as pawns to manipulate in the quest for higher contest placements, career advancement, and elevated status within the field. They commit to viewing their colleagues as professionals and fellow learners acting in good faith to serve students. The final element Fromm (1956) argued was necessary for love is knowledge; insisting that “to respect a person is not possible without knowing them; care and responsibility would be blind if they were not guided by knowledge” (27).

These four elements are inextricably connected. When a music educator cares for and respects their students, they work to get to know them—their strengths and weaknesses, likes and dislikes—accepting the responsibility to act in the students’ best interest. They understand that in order to respect their coworkers they must first get to know them. The loving music educator does not assume that they know what is best for those they love and impose upon them one’s own wishes. Taking the time to understand not only students’ academic qualities, but also who they are as people outside the classroom, is essential if one hopes to adopt a pedagogy of love.

Thich Nhat Hahn

Thich Nhat Hahn was a Vietnamese Zen Master, teacher, activist, and founder of the Engaged Buddhism movement. He dedicated his life to making Buddhism relevant to people’s needs and was a leader in bringing Buddhist and mindfulness practices to the west. hooks (1994) credited Hanh for offering her “a way of thinking about pedagogy which emphasized wholeness, a union of mind, body, and spirit” (14). Practicing such an approach led to hooks’ views of education as learning to be in the world and great teaching as inspiring peace, courage, and love.

Buddhist teachings of love are based on the Brahmaviharas or Four Immeasurable Minds: maitri, karuna, mudita, and upeksha. Hanh preferred to simply call maitri “love” but noted that other Buddhists translated it as “loving kindness.” He defined maitri as “the intention and capacity to offer joy and happiness” and taught that developing this capacity required “looking and listening deeply so that we know what to do and what not to do to make others happy” (Hanh 2007, 4). To help explain the concept Hanh provided the example of offering someone food. Though durian is a popular fruit in southeast Asia, Hanh himself was never a fan and found the smell repulsive. When others would offer him durian, assuming he enjoyed the same things they did, he saw that as an attempt to love without understanding. “Your intention is good, but you don’t understand what I need” (5). If music educators rely on their preferences and assume what students will enjoy, rather than listening deeply to the students themselves, they will not be able to provide a truly loving education.

Karuna is “the intention and capacity to relieve and transform suffering and lighten sorrows” (Hanh 2007, 6). It is usually translated as compassion, but Hanh (2007) noted that although the roots of the English word “compassion” are com (together with) and passion (to suffer) it is not necessary to suffer in order to relieve suffering in another. Similarly, while one can understand “suffering” (dukkha) in terms of physical pain or emotional turmoil, the term can also signal annoyance, discontentment, restlessness, and an overall unsatisfied feeling with life (Das 1998). Much like maitri, karuna is “not only the desire to ease the pain of another person, but the ability to do so” (Hanh 2024, 9). Intention does not suffice, but individuals can develop the capacity to ease suffering by practicing deep looking and listening. Perhaps a music teacher notices a lack of energy in their class and cannot seem to get their students focused on that day’s lesson. Rather than threatening students with disciplinary action for not participating, this teacher chooses to have a discussion with the students and ask them what is wrong. Hanh (2024) wrote that “one compassionate word, action, or thought can reduce another person’s suffering” (6), so just by acknowledging that the class was not going well and opening a channel of communication, the music teacher created an opportunity to understand the students better and in turn practiced karuna.

The third brahmavihara—mudita—is the capacity to offer joy to yourself and others through “loving thoughts, loving speech, and loving actions” (Hanh 2024, 12). Hanh (2007) reflected that “many small things can bring us tremendous joy” (8): from the happiness one feels when receiving a gift to the delight one takes in the presence of a blue sky following days of storms. Within a pedagogy of love, a music teacher should practice nourishing joy in their everyday teaching. When they are able to bring joy into their lives, loving music teachers will also be able to offer their students joy on a daily basis. In Hanh’s (2015) words: “The more you cultivate joy, the more joy you will feel and be able to share” (81).

The final element of love is upeksha, which Hanh translated as “equanimity or freedom” (1997, 9), “inclusiveness” (2015, 21), and “nonattachment, nondiscrimination, even-mindedness, or letting go” (2007, 8). Upeksha involves seeing yourself in others, “the ability to see everyone as equal and not discriminate between ourselves and other people” (2007, 9). It means understanding that what impacts you also impacts those you love, and vice versa. Upeksha also requires that one not allow their love to “be tainted with attachment, possessiveness, and the desire to control,” since this would restrict the freedom of those we love (2015, 99). Instead, one’s love should be an offering to all, given without discrimination or exclusion.

For music educators, practicing upeksha could mean utilizing input, feedback, and opinions from their students rather than dictating all classroom norms, expectations, and activities: the goal here being equality. Such a music educator would not think for their students but think alongside them. It could also mean giving members of the beginner band the same opportunities for composition or chamber music that is usually reserved for the more advanced students in the program. Not waiting until the beginners prove they have mastered their fundamentals before giving the opportunity to lead and create.

In later writings, Hanh (2015) additionally discussed the importance of respect and trust within the four traditional elements of loving kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity. Ultimately, he maintained that true love can only exist when the Four Immeasurable Minds—maitri, karuna, mudita, and upeksha—work together and are supported by a respect and trust for oneself and others. Only then is love capable of healing and transformation.

bell hooks

bell hooks’ (1994, 2003, 2010) work provided the most direct discussion of love and pedagogy. Inspired by Erich Fromm and M. Scott Peck, she considered genuine love to be “a combination of care, commitment, trust, knowledge, responsibility, and respect” (2001, 8). Whereas Fromm and Hanh defined each element, hooks chose to focus on love as a whole, explaining that it is the mixing of these “ingredients” that sustains one’s growth and the growth of those they love (2001, 5). hooks intended her concept of love to serve all people across all walks of life, regardless of gender and perhaps other qualities, contra her contemporaries who claimed that a definition was unnecessary or that love might mean different things to different people.

In hooks’ three books on pedagogy—Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom (1994), Teaching Community: A Pedagogy of Hope (2003), and Teaching Critical Thinking: Practical Wisdom (2010)she places love at the center of the fight to resist the cultures, politics, and ideologies of domination that permeate educational institutions. She credited her love of learning and the love of Black teachers, prior to the forced integration of Black children into majority white schools, for giving her the strength to ignore racist teachers who saw her as less capable than her white peers. When discussing how she felt when Paulo Freire defended her right to ask critical questions, she wrote “I loved him at this moment for exemplifying by his actions the principles of his work” (1994, 55). Shortly after, she noted that “great humans bring with them something like a hallowed atmosphere, and when we seek them out, then we feel peace, we feel love, we feel courage,” (Berrigan and Hanh 1975, 108) borrowing the words of her other “great teacher” Thich Nhat Hanh to describe how it felt to be around Freire (hooks 1994, 56).

When sharing the experience of bringing love into her own teaching, hooks (2003) took time to address the suspicion surrounding love, writing that “to speak of love in relation to teaching is already to engage a dialogue that is taboo” (127). Part of this taboo stems from concerns about inappropriate teacher-student relationships, but there also exists a belief that having an emotional connection to students would make a teacher less objective. If a teacher gets too close, they will not be able to see things as clearly, but if they keep their distance, they can look upon their students in a neutral, unbiased manner. Parker J. Palmer (1983) wrote that “the aim of objectivism is to eliminate all elements of subjectivity, all biases and preconceptions, so that our knowledge can become purely empirical” (35). hooks (2003) viewed this objective approach to teaching and learning as one mechanism by which those in control maintain their dominant position, dehumanizing those below them by focusing on the facts and nothing else. She believed that educators must combat “the domineering mentality of objectivism” (Palmer 1983, 68) in order for deep learning to occur and that the best way to do so is by nurturing students’ academic and emotional growth. When the “basic principles of love form the basis of teacher-pupil interaction” (hooks 2003, 131) teachers and students form a mutual partnership, free from manipulation and exploitation. They are able to learn from each other and “the act of knowing [becomes] an act of love” (132).

What Love Cannot Do

Alongside understanding what constitutes love and how it can positively impact individuals and their communities, it is also important to recognize what love does not and cannot do. It cannot completely shield teachers and students from negative experiences and negative emotions. It does not equate to an absence of criticism, conflict, or vulnerability. Loving music educators do not act maliciously but neither do they privilege protecting someone’s feelings above what may help them grow. In Hanh’s (2015) words, “loving someone doesn’t mean saying ‘yes’ to whatever the other person wants” (34). As such, loving students does not mean lowering educational standards. Loving a colleague does not mean excusing their bad behavior.

Furthermore, love is not a quick fix for the systemic and structural inequalities that exist within music education. Loving oneself, one’s students, and one’s colleagues will not immediately negate the impacts of standardized testing and professional audit culture on schools. Adopting a practicing of love within the classroom will not erase the prejudices and economic barriers faced by students. However, when a music educator practices love, they make their environment one in which others can find safety and understanding. Loving educators must take pride in their efforts, even if they make just one person happy on any given day.

Loving Music Education

As hooks (2001) reminded, “definitions are vital starting points for the imagination” (14). Within a pedagogy of love, love should be understood as both an emotional connection one can have with others and a multifaceted art for which ability develops and improves through study of theory and practice. I now imagine how music educators might enact this understanding of love through mastery of a practice directed towards ourselves, other educators, and students, in service of the creation and proliferation of loving musical environments. I also want to note that despite listing mastering theory and practice sequentially, these two aspects of learning to love occur simultaneously. Practice and theory are intertwined, constantly building off each other, and supporting each other in the development of the art of love.

Loving Yourself

“Remember, if you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you gonna love somebody else?” – RuPaul

[6]

Each of the aforementioned authors viewed self-love as an essential part of one’s loving practice. Fromm (1956) disagreed with the notion of equating loving oneself with narcissism and instead understood self-love as “inseparably connected with the love for any other being” (55). Hanh (2015) stated, “to love is first of all to accept yourself as you actually are” (30), and his works guided readers through the difficulty and importance of loving themselves in order to truly love others. Similarly, hooks (2001) understood self-love as “the foundation of our loving practice” (67) and—acknowledging the difficulty in applying this combination of care, commitment, trust, knowledge, responsibility, and respect to oneself—suggested that individuals may develop their ability to meet the challenge by “[giving] ourselves the love we are often dreaming of receiving from others” (67).

hooks (2001) also brought attention to the importance of self-love in the workplace. She advocated for seeking work that one loves and highlighted the harm caused when employers constantly require employees to prove their worth. Some could argue that proving one’s worth is a foundational part of being a musician and music educator. Even as beginners, students take part tests, audition for solos, and compete for higher chair placements, never questioning the mandate to prove they belong. To gain acceptance into most collegiate music education programs, students must prove proficiency on their primary instrument and continue doing so for the entirety of their undergraduate degree. Once in the classroom, administrators constantly observe and measure educators in order to identify their shortcomings. Ensemble directors often feel forced to compete week after week, year after year, putting their students on display in order to prove their competence as musicians and educators. In preparation for each instance of evaluation, individuals may find themselves fixating on their perceived flaws, potentially eroding their self-esteem, self-confidence, and self-love as the years go by.

For hooks (2001), the remedy for the depressing of the spirit that often occurs in such cases is choosing to bring love to work: “Bringing love into the work environment can create the necessary transformation that can make any job we do, no matter how menial, a place where workers can express the best of themselves. When we work with love we renew the spirit; that renewal is an act of self-love, it nurtures our growth. It’s not what you do but how you do it” (65).

Within a pedagogy of love, music educators might remember that they too are people continuing to learn and grow. Not only could they give themselves grace when making mistakes, but they might also celebrate their successes and the progress they have made. Loving music educators recognize that their worth is not based on festival results or administrative evaluations. Instead, they work to nourish and express the best parts of themselves and create a space in which others can do likewise. The importance of practicing self-love for mastering the art of love is impossible to over-emphasize. Love for others is rooted in love and understanding for yourself; “When we learn to love and understand ourselves … then we can truly love and understand another person” (Hanh 2015, 17).

Loving Others

Within music education literature, scholars often discuss love as a feeling that relates to or is directed towards something, including instruments and types of music. In his explorations of the love one has for their instrument, Robert Sternberg (2021) employed a theory of love that defines intimacy, passion, and commitment as it’s central components. Alternatively, Henrik Holm (2020) argued that the question of if students can learn to love classical music should inform everything a music educator does, for it is through loving music that one can best understand it. Similarly, Estelle Jorgensen (2020) discussed how teaching students to love Western classical music would allow it to become a tradition no longer restricted to society’s privileged elite, while simultaneously encouraging the continued expansion and evolution of the canon.

However, when practicing how to love, music educators and students must remember that love goes beyond how they as loving subjects feel about their loved objects. Though he does discuss various objects of love, Fromm (1956) continually described love as “orientation of character … which refers to all and not one” (43). In other words, rather than focusing on select individuals, the objects of our affection, the practice of loving others requires an overall attitude of love orientated towards the world as a whole. Love can exist in the way one relates to everyone in their life, and they therefore may practice it during every interaction; as such, enacting love is an ongoing challenge loving individuals face together. This means that loving educators might practice love not only during interactions with students but also with other educators. Furthermore, music educators should encourage the practice of love in our students. As hooks (2010) stated, “no matter the direction from which love emerges in the classroom, it transforms” (162)—teacher to student, teacher to teacher, student to teacher, and student to student.

How might music educators practice love towards others? How could music educators build and maintain loving relationships? For Hanh (2015), such relationships are rooted in “mindfulness, deep listening and loving speech, and a strong community to support you” (35). They require attentiveness to the needs of others, not just hearing but deeply listening to them and responding with care and kindness as well as expanding that care to all with whom one interacts. Loving music educators give each of their students the same time and consideration, using their expertise to address every student’s needs with care and compassion. Furthermore, adopting a practice of love means accepting others wholly as they are, because to only like the best things in a person is not actually loving them. If music educators only show affection when students’ behavior aligns with their demands, do they truly care for them? If teachers refuse to dialogue with colleagues who subscribe to different teaching philosophies, can they still claim a desire to build loving relationships? Only in unloving communities must individuals worry that missteps and disagreements will lead to rejection. A pedagogy of love instead allows students and teachers alike the ability to err, reflect, and grow.

Within the music classroom, it may be taken for granted that students aim to learn from their teachers—experts who have dedicated countless hours to mastering their crafts. However, loving music educators must also display a willingness to learn from members of their loving communities. Such educators already recognize that they can learn from their colleagues and dedicate both time and resources in order to attend conferences, host clinics, and learn from the experiences of other music educators. A pedagogy of love requires that teachers direct this same openness and explicit enthusiasm toward learning from their students. A third grader might have a way of remembering the treble clef note names that their teacher had not considered but turns out to help another struggling classmate. A high schooler who spends their free time exploring different digital audio workstations might know a great way to create and export practice tracks their choir can use to learn a particular piece. An undergraduate music may share a concern that encourages the professor to reconsider the materials they use in their classroom. As hooks (2003) reminded us, when love forms “the basis of teacher-pupil interaction the mutual pursuit of knowledge creates the conditions for optimal learning. Teachers, then, are learning while teaching, and students are learning and sharing knowledge” (132).

Loving Environments

While there exists no one way to create a loving environment, I imagine what it may look like for loving music educators to cultivate spaces in which they show students a myriad of ways that love can manifest and be practiced. An unloving elementary music room may involve a teacher having a preset, “fool-proof” curriculum that they employ each year regardless of the students in their class. They use activities students enjoy as incentives for good behavior and take away these activities as punishment when students fail to meet their expectations. The teacher rebuffs all attempts at personal connection, from students and colleagues alike, because they maintain a strict boundary between their work and themselves. An unloving high school may offer no music classes that do not involve participating in a large ensemble with mandatory performances. The director or administration may set schedules and calendars with no input from students about in which competitions or festivals they want to participate. Rehearsals are guided based on the feedback from judges the week before, rather than the artistic preferences of those giving the performance, and the teachers are driven by a desire to make strangers happy, rather than the students the spend time with every day.

Alternately, the loving elementary music classroom might involve the teacher regularly reflecting upon their curriculum and seeing if it still meets the students’ needs. They do not use joy as a reward, recognizing the importance of student happiness for their overall well-being. They dedicate time each day to building relationships with their students and colleagues, asking about people’s days, listening to the stories they have to tell, and responding with their own tales. The loving high school would offer opportunities for musicking outside of traditional Western classical large ensemble. If choosing to participate in a large ensemble, students would discuss potential performance opportunities for the following year and the merits and downsides of each; directors would consider their input when determining the schedule. Teachers and students would review feedback from judges as a group, and they would weigh each suggestion against what the performers wish to change or keep. Educators would feel successful cultivating a community of joy and collaboration, knowing they put their students first. Their loving influence would create an environment in which current and future members of their community develop their own capacities for love, their own mastery of this art.

As Freire (2005) reminded us, “it is impossible to teach without the courage to love, without the courage to try a thousand times before giving in … it is impossible to teach without a forged, invented, and well-thought-out capacity to love” (5). The potential for love to shape the music education experience is profound, offering a positive lens through which students and educators alike can see themselves, their relationships, their work, and their communities. Love is not merely emotional affection, but a multi-faceted collection of dispositions needed to take on the obligation of nurturing love within oneself and others. An understanding of love as art supports a belief that these loving dispositions can be learned and taught, experienced and strengthened within a loving community of practice. A pedagogy of love, in which one’s actions are rooted in a commitment to loving, allows music educators to think less about what they shall not do and instead focus on what they shall do when working with students, interacting with colleagues, and creating loving environments in which all feel welcome and valued.


About the Author

Tatyana C. Louis-Jacques (they/them) is currently pursuing a PhD in Music Education at The University of North Texas. Prior to their doctoral studies, they taught instrumental music in New Jersey public schools. Tatyana’s current research centers on understanding the needs and experiences of marginalized music educators and how various critical theories can be used to inform music education pedagogy. They have presented nationally and internationally at events including the Conference on Cultural Diversity in Music Education, the Symposium on Music Teacher Education, and the International Society for the Philosophy of Music Education Symposium.


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Notes

[1] hooks 2001, 87.

[2] I find Marissa Silverman’s 2022 article to be the exception.

[3] Fromm 1956, 1.

[4] The problem is how to be lovable; The problem is the objects of our love; Confusion between falling in love and being in love.

[5] The types of love Fromm discusses are Brotherly Love, Motherly Love, Erotic Love, Self-Love, and Love of God.

[6] Ru Paul Charles, host, RuPaul’s Drag Race.