In my experience, the introduction of vocology into a conversation with people who are unfamiliar with it, or who know just enough about it to be skeptical, causes the conversation to grind to a halt.  I tend to want to excitedly share the new things I’ve found in my research, but for some reason, the mention of research in the voice world is a huge turnoff.  That’s caused me to ponder on what it is that we’re doing anyway.

The most straightforward way that I can think to explain the purpose of vocology is as perspective shift.  We’re all looking through a window at the same scenery.  We can all describe it and offer our opinions on what we see, and those of us who have been describing it for years have well-developed opinions on what we’re seeing.

Vocology, or, all science for that matter, allows us to look through a slightly larger window, thereby gaining a little more perspective on the scene.  To some, this is as exciting as your first birthday!  I can also understand, however, why to others, a change in perspective can be uncomfortable, even unsettling to the point of rejection. 

Ideally, we seek new knowledge in order to one day view an even fuller image.

The basic questions surrounding whether we want research and development in the voice world is:

When we’re offered a chance to shift our perspective, what do we do with it? 

Are we willing to listen to anyone's thoughts, and compare them with our own experiences?

What questions do we ask that help us gain our footing amongst new information? 

How comfortable are we with what we already know such that we can allow that information to be challenged in our own minds by what we are able to see anew?

I’ve been reflecting on the viscerally strong reaction that many voice teachers have to one another – I can’t believe other people teach that way! I can’t believe other people don’t teach this way! Which quickly turns into, I would never send my student to them, or even, I want to go offer that student my card and get them out of that studio.

And lately, I’ve been thinking it actually comes from this beautifully protective, care-taking place. Teachers have such a deep sense of empathy, that we are constantly on the lookout for students’ well-beings, even if they are not our own. The positive experience of every student, feels like our personal responsibility to insure. Even if I’ve never met a singer in my life, I want to hear that they are being treated well and given the instructions and empowerment that fit their goals.

The tricky part is that I can much more easily trust that a student is being given a positive experience if it closely reflects the methods, ideals and terminologies that I personally use. I have never met a voice teacher whose primary goal it was to make their student feel badly or to sing poorly. And yet, when we see traits in someone else’s teaching that do not match our own, our protective instincts kick in and we want to save that student from what we assume is a sub-par or even dangerous experience.

These protective, guttural reactions to another person’s differing approach  remind me of the discussions often found in the parenting community. These online parenting discussions have become so heated, personal and intense the term ‘Mommy Wars’ has been coined.  All the parents in these discussions want what’s best for their children and for the children of other parents, but the different approaches make it seem like some choices are ‘right’ and some are ‘wrong’.

A group of moms in Connecticut responded with a photography movement called “End the Mommy Wars”. You can read the full CNN article here. The goal was to “love more and judge less” with a campaign for Judgment-Free Motherhood. The execution of the message was simple, mothers stood side by side in photographs with signs that stated differing decisions they had made in their parenting-

Other questions to consider –

--What other signs would you hold?
--How has judgment from other colleagues impacted your teaching? When has it inspired change and when has it inspired alienation?
--How do you think judgment in the voice world impacts our ability to have discussions as a voice community?
 
I love this simple exercise: writing down an approach you choose to take, owning it with pride, and standing side by side with a colleague who shares a different approach. It has so much simplicity and yet so much power in it. The power of just saying that we are all here, we all co-exist, we all want the best for our students, and we are all going to make mistakes. And we are all okay.
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Yes, we are all okay. That needs to be the starting platform for any further questions and discussions we want to have as a voice community. And I am ready for any teachers out there who want to grab a sign and a sharpie. Let’s share these kinds of pictures; I am here to stand next to you.

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~Laurel 

While reading an informative survey of each of these works in Leborgne's and Rosenberg’s The Vocal Athlete, I was struck by something that I had overlooked in previous examinations of these older works.  The teachers, like today’s vocologists,  responded to their surroundings as if they were isolated within a vibrant, powerful vocal industry.  Their approaches were unique, and as such, they had to prove themselves against the contemporary practices of their day.  Just like today’s vocologist, they drew on others' work as they created their own understanding, but they also had something new to offer, and promoted themselves as such.  It hit me that today’s voice innovators have as much to learn from the way that these giants related to their community as we do from the results of their vocal practice.  

In general, they tended to have very rigid procedures for their students. 

For all intents and purposes, their angle worked.  They gained reputation, had some commercially successful students, published widely-read treatises, and have influenced singers and teachers for decades, even centuries, after their death. 

However, they also left a legacy of isolationism, privacy, judgment, perfectionism, and ultimate confusion based on the rigidness of their approaches.  In fact, one could easily attribute a century of vocal instruction confusion across the board to the intense, unyielding specificity that these very influential pedagogues communicated to their progeny.  When we take a minute to scan today’s voice world, we quickly find their imitators. Individualized methods with specialized (even rigid) procedures that are taught within the secrecy of long-term mentor/disciple relationships abound. Even though today’s vocologist finds themselves far less isolated than the initiates of old, there is always the temptation to feel as if we alone have the necessary answers for all voice users, and to isolate ourselves accordingly.

I’m encouraged by the continually increasing collegiality that has developed in the voice learning community across my lifetime.  I’m also excited by the number of people who seem to recognize the great benefits of our predecessors, while acknowledging that there are other ways to relate to one another.  We have the capacity to create our own approach regarding both the information we know about the voice, and how we present ourselves to people who want to learn.  Perhaps future vocalists will look upon these years as a time when the voice community learned to share more easily, to ask more questions in contrast to providing rigid answers, to strive for inclusion by promoting vocal options, to create clarity for every voice user, and to work together to raise all the vocal ships out there.  After all, if we’ve learned anything, it’s that all people have voices, and they have the right to use them in the ways that they want to.

~David