Growing up in the '70’s, I can recall Schoolhouse Rock being a wonderful respite from the otherwise frenetic and vacuous menagerie of Saturday morning cartoons. It still had funk (who can forget the red-bell-bottoms-with-star-top ensemble and get-down voice featured in “Sufferin’ ‘Till Suffrage”), but it called to my inner Barbara Tuchman.

A decade later all that flew out the window as my generation became known as the “MTV generation,” unified by the power of fast-paced, self-indulgent, visually-stimulating music videos. Bopping around in my room in a neon mini to Culture Club, I had no idea then that someday I’d marry the two concepts together for use in my teaching career.

I’ve always liked to sing, and make no apologies for my insistence on “retro” ‘80’s new wave in the car CD changer or on karaoke nights. Having a rather dark sense of humor, I’ve also always been drawn to parody, whether it be a Weird Al hit or Mel Brooks blockbuster. Enter Clio, the muse of history. One long drive home on the freeway, I was blasting ABBA’s “Money, Money, Money” and could not get the day’s European History lesson plans out of my head. That’s right, suddenly “money” morphed into “Henry” and by the time I’d reached my destination I’d worked out lyrics relating to four of Henry VIII’s six wives. A few days later I penned a song about significant “Renaissance Men” to a Violent Femmes classic. I’d used rhymes and even short ditties as educational mnemonic devices before, and saw no reason why my 9th-grade students wouldn’t enjoy having a listen to these—at least, I thought, they’d remember the order of the Tudor women and that only two were actually beheaded.

Enter Tyche, goddess of luck. It just so happened that at the time I was working with a true Renaissance man, Herb Mahelona, who not only was an accomplished musician and composer (he had written more than one opera), but also a former history and art teacher with some mad tech skills! He suggested that, in lieu of me standing awkwardly in front of the class singing, we make a music video that would incorporate a decent recording and some eye-catching visuals using Adobe Flash animation. After our third song, he suggested I appear in the actual video as well. The videos, although time-consuming, were an instant hit and students began sharing them with friends from other schools and—gasp!—parents!

The students' enthusiasm had an effect on us, and we created more videos. Subject matter came naturally—we tried to stick to classically significant people and events. Movements or eras were a bit trickier, which was why I could never quite get to writing that feudalism song.

We both begin a song by plotting out the key concepts and vocabulary we feel students will need to understand and remember.

I say “we” because at this point, both Herb and I were penning lyrics, each driven by our own passions and tastes and each expressing our unique style. Although our processes are slightly different, we both begin a song by plotting out the key concepts and vocabulary we feel students will need to understand and remember. I usually take that list and see if anything even slightly rhymes (you can cheat a bit when singing), such as “acral necrosis/yersinia pestis” in “Black Death” or “quill pen/vermillion” in “Illuminated Manuscripts.” Of course, prior to that one has to make the perfect match of original tune to parody and topic. The music should make sense with the feel of the story, but to make parody memorable, it’s imperative that a “hook” can be established—that the new lyric replaces a crucial element in the original (such as “Oh, Constantine”/”Come on Eileen”). To be honest, this match sort of “hits” me—usually whilst driving and singing along to a favorite chart-topper. We both have a running list of ideas to start when we get that most precious element—time.

Tapping Students' Creativity and Reaching Out

Despite the fact that our own students were raving about the videos and finding them useful as study aids and provocations to learn more, we knew we needed to do something grander with this labor of love. My first idea was to have students synthesize their own research into lyrics (not an easy task!) and learn more about technology and project management by recording their songs and creating music videos using iMovie. I was blown away, and they get better every year. Finally, after much prodding from students, we decided to post the videos on YouTube to see what sort of response we’d receive. The site had only been around a few years, and I didn’t realize then how useful it could be in the classroom. To this day I strongly disagree with any attempt to block (especially educators) from accessing YouTube at school.

We were surprised by:

1. The sheer number of self-professed history geeks out there;
2. The overwhelming support we received from teachers and teens—our target audience—and the unexpected kudos from higher education, particularly professors, education majors, and PhD candidates;
3. The realization that history is still very much alive in the minds of people (just check out the comments on “Macedonia”);
4. The law of nitpicking—no matter how creative or professional your piece is, if you leave out an accent mark or round up a number, expect to be called on it; and
5. The necessity of humor in learning—people crave joy, laughter, wit, and, yes, '80s music. The more fun you can have while learning the more it sticks with you.

Creativity is contagious, and only brings our world closer together as we share in what makes us human...

This past year we’ve been asked to consult with museums, speak at conferences (including TEDx Honolulu), and do live interviews. We’ve even had friends in another state tell us they’ve heard students singing one of our songs in a coffee place. The greatest joy is communicating with “fans” of all ages through social media, where we’ve discovered some innovative kids taking up the torch and producing history videos of their own. That’s the beauty of 21st-century technology—everyone’s passion, expressed through their creative ideas, can come to fruition with the ease of the tools at hand. Teachers and students can shift from content consumers to content creators, and truly break out of the classroom box to share with an authentic, global audience. Creativity is contagious, and only brings our world closer together as we share in what makes us human—art, music, storytelling, and collective memory.

Nearly every student shares some connection with music. Whether students favor listening to today’s pop music by Justin Bieber or Rhianna; classic rock by the Beatles or Bruce Springsteen; folk music by Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, or Bob Dylan; or jazz music from Charles Mingus or John Coltrane, they glean messages from music and the artists who create it. Moreover, music has been such a part of American popular culture and history that we are rich with music that has commented and reflected on the people and events of that history. As such, using music in a history classroom to foster student interest and content analysis can be part of an effective lesson. But incorporating music in such a way as to encourage meaningful learning requires some structure and forethought. In a previous posting I outlined four general models of incorporating music into a history lesson. I’d like to take this time to explore in a bit more detail how I have made effective use of music in my classroom.

My most common method for including music in my lessons was to present the music in a straightforward fashion, allowing students to respond to the lyrics, tone, and message of the song(s) based on the context of our content. For example, throughout a mini-unit about the labor movement of the early 20th century in the U.S., I would typically play selections from the time period, including more than a few songs by Joe Hill, “Bread and Roses” by James Oppenheim, and “Solidarity Forever” by Ralph Chaplin.

Although it is rare to find performances from these songwriters, I often find performances of these songs by various artists reinterpreting them. John Denver, for example, recorded and often performed “Bread and Roses. Many education and historical websites provide samples or entire performances of these songs. I have often used the PBS site Strange Fruit as a starting point for my research (incidentally, using the song “Strange Fruit” typically elicits emotional responses when dealing with race relations and the Jim Crow era, and I highly recommend its use for class).

Using this method, I begin class by handing out a guidance worksheet designed to get students to be keener listeners as we hear the song. This worksheet is divided into two distinct parts. In the first section, which I label as pre-listening, I provide students with some basic information about the song, including the genre, the songwriter, and about the interpretation as we are about to hear it. In my experience, giving students this information before we commence listening allows them to consider the message and tone with fewer distractions—including quibbles over whether or not the song was really a blues or jazz song, for example—which can take away from the foundational intention of the listening activity.

Once we are ready to listen to the song, I review the context once more. Just before listening to “Solidarity Forever,” for example, I would reiterate the travails of the labor movement and the methods unions and employers had taken in an effort to strengthen their respective sides. Upon completion of the pre-listening information and context, I project the lyrics onto the screen in the classroom and we then begin listening. While the students are listening, they write down on part two of the worksheet some of the meaningful lyrical passages as well as the tone set by the music and presentation. Additionally, in an effort to gauge effectiveness of the message, they are asked whether the song appears to be more of a call to action or a reflection on the historical event or situation. And finally, I also ask students to ponder for whom this song was written and whether the song effectively addresses those constituents.

With an inquiry-based approach, I eschew much of the pre-listening portion of my lesson and ask students to consider, in a more open-ended way, the message of the song(s) with little in the way of context, often at the beginning of a new topic.

This method allows students to discover meaning and make sense of a time period within the messages of the song(s). From that basis, we can draw on their conclusions as we progress through lessons related to the topic and beyond. In my experience, students often refer to the messages they first discerned in these songs. They find that their original understanding of the message may have been flawed or that the message in the song conveyed a point of view contrary to what they had learned otherwise. Either way, the analysis they performed and the context they developed from listening allows them to engage with the content with more prior knowledge and experience, thus allowing the possibility for deeper understanding.

Perhaps my favorite example of this method is with the song “This Land is Your Land” by Woody Guthrie. Students know the song, of course, but tend not to know all of the verses. When they hear the more controversial lyrics found in some of the verses, there is disbelief. Most never heard about the references to private property nor considered the implications of a rising tide of communism. As we delve into some of the components and implications of the Great Depression and the Cold War, reference back to those lyrics often moves students to comment, “So now I see why those verses were cut out of the song.”

With both of these simple methods, the teacher has the ability to employ a medium that likely has significant meaning for students. Music is all around us; providing powerful stories, inspiration, and joy in its messages. Harnessing some of the power of music to influence and convey messages can be a potent tool for teachers. Through some forethought and structure, the possibilities to foster meaningful learning are significant.

Music has been a source of inspiration, of protest, of wisdom, and of emotion for millennia. In the United States, music became woven into the fabric of our culture well before we became a nation, and it remains so today. Through songs of protest and patriotism from the 18th and 19th centuries to music of today commenting on and influencing social or political issues, music has found its way into nearly every era and event in American history, inspiring it or reflecting on it.

Beginning in my early teens, I recall being affected by the political and social messages in the music to which I listened. In fact, my music-inspired evolution toward civic-mindedness greatly influenced my decision to teach social studies. As an American history teacher, I found significant success employing music in my lessons. Students in my class might get a sampling of some Joe Hill union songs from the IWW; 1960s protest songs such as "Masters of War" by Bob Dylan; a taste of punk rock music from the Bad Brains, Black Flag, or Minor Threat that raged against governmental policies or notions of class from the Reagan era; or hip-hop songs from Public Enemy, A Tribe Called Quest, NWA, or KRS-one that lamented urban blight of the 1980s and 1990s.

These songs became sources integral to our wrangling with the experiences of the past and examination of contemporary social and political issues. We often laughed at the vocalists or the crude recording and instrumentation, but our mission was to analyze the meanings behind the songs in terms of their significance to history and the social studies. We treated these songs for what they are: cultural contributions critically relevant to the past, present, and future of our society.

I am certain that sharing these songs with my students engaged them in the content for a time. I am also certain that they enjoyed the unusual activity of listening to music in class, hearing my commentary of the artists, and discussing, for example, the characteristics of Dylan's voice or the bombast that was 1980s hardcore punk rock. However, my goal was beyond just engagement. Whether reflecting on or being a part of the context, these songs contained meaning. They represented a look inside the lives of the songwriters and the stories they had to tell. These songs allowed us to be more aware of our own world. They held the potential, as do other relevant sources in the social studies, to humanize us.

I am heartened when I communicate with prospective history educators who believe in the idea of teaching history beyond the textbook. These future teachers share innovative ideas of image and document analysis in an effort to move students toward developing historical habits of mind and keen interest in the world around them. It is my contention that teachers can and should consider the use of music in the same way they consider more archetypal sources—as essential to effective teaching.

It has been my experience that the following strategies work well when engaging students in listening to and analyzing music in the classroom.

1. Using a modified inquiry method where students are unaware of the relevancy the song(s) has in terms of the lesson heightens student interest and allows for some creative interpretations and deep analysis. In this strategy, students will listen to the music (with lyrics up on the screen in front of class) and are asked to analyze the lyrics in an attempt to discern the salient meaning. Students would likely be using text sources/artifacts as well to provide context and foundational knowledge. This can be done as an individual or group activity with a class debriefing to follow.
2. Listening to the song and carefully analyzing the lyrics and tone in the direct context of the historical, social, or political event I am teaching is another way of using music effectively in class. Teachers employing this more traditional strategy post lyrics on screen while students listen to and interpret meaning individually and as a group. This method provides opportunity to share songs with narratives contrary to the traditional, which can foster cognitive dissonance, important to any worthwhile history and social studies class.
3. Borrowing from Drake and Nelson's (2003) History Research Kit, a teacher may use one particular song as a "first-order" source. In this strategy, the teacher shares the song and analyzes and interprets meaning with the students as the principle source for the lesson. The second-order songs might include two or three songs with other interpretations of the event(s) covered in the lesson. These songs are analyzed as a model for students to follow for the third-order songs. For those songs, the teacher asks students to seek their own sources (songs or other artifacts) that either support or refute the meaning from the teacher-provided songs. Allowing students the opportunity to find their own sources serves to empower students to do history, which has great potential to result in deep understanding and meaningful learning.
4. Intrepid teachers comfortable with software used to create music may promote the idea for students to create their own music related to history, or, more broadly, social studies content. Clay Shirkey (2010) notes that digital natives are accustomed to creating using technology, therefore, actively involving students in such creative endeavors might be truly beneficial to their learning. One of the aforementioned methods might serve as a precursor to this strategy. My success with this method has come when my students were keenly familiar with music analysis and interpretation. Asking students to engage in this activity without prior experience will likely yield disappointing results.

Please note: If your thoughts are drifting toward sharing "We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel or songs from some new website advertising "American History Learned through 50 Rock-n-Roll Songs" where a songwriter has penned songs related to salient events in American history, please be cautioned. What I am referring to here is quite different. My goal is to engage students in listening to or creating music that requires more from students. The music presented ought to be considered as carefully as when choosing just the right letter between Abraham Lincoln and Joshua Speed, or the parts of George F. Kennan's Long Telegram to share. I don’t mean to disparage Billy Joel; I am, in fact, a fan. I'd just rather listen to The Stranger or The Nylon Curtain . . . you know, the old stuff is always better.

You don't have to look far to see how important music is to modern American life. Young people (as well as adults) talk about music, listen to music, download music, remix music, share music, and define themselves by music. In classrooms across the country, MP3 players and pop-tune ringtones give students' musical tastes away (and get them in trouble). But has music always been this personal, portable, and repeatable?

Ask your students to think back. Do they remember a time when music wasn't something you could own? When they, someone in their family, or someone they knew didn't have an MP3 player—or a CD, tape, or record player?

Before the birth of the recording industry, you could buy sheet music and learn how to perform musical pieces for yourself—but that was it. An individual performance was ephemeral, literally once in a lifetime.

When the recording industry took off, music became an object. Now you could buy and trade moments in musical time, preserved forever. You could listen to artists who lived far away from you, whom you might never see live. You could listen to your favorite performances again and again. You could even sell music, without having to worry about arranging performances. One song sung once by one artist could earn money for months or years to come. Sound become solid, something that could be passed from hand to hand—and preserved.

On May 10, 2011, the Library of Congress launched its National Jukebox, an online archive of more than 10,000 recordings from 1901–1925. According to the website, Library of Congress staff worked throughout 2010 to digitize this massive collection of Victor Talking Machine Company recordings (Victor, now RCA, is one of the oldest record companies in existence, according to the Library of Congress's blog entry announcing the launch of the Jukebox).

You can browse the recordings by vocal artist, composer, lyricist, language, place or date of recording, target audience, label, category, or genre. And if you find some music you'd like to remember? Add it to your playlist in the site's pop-up player. Now you can listen to it while you browse other sites, email it to yourself to listen to later, or share it with others on social media sites or by embedding it in a blog or website.

While exploring the Jukebox is entertaining in its own right—I just spent two minutes listening to humorous singer Burt Shepard trying to lure a lost cat home—it also makes invaluable primary sources easily accessible.

Teaching about the rise of ragtime and jazz? Make a playlist of famous (and less famous) songs and artists and share it with your students.

How about the invention of the airplane? The Haydn Quartet's "Up in My Aeroplane" can give students an idea of the romance and novelty of flight six years after the Wright Brothers' first successful test run.

World War I? "Hooray, the war is over!" sings Harry Lauder in 1918; months earlier, baritone Reinald Werrenrath remembered the U.S.'s debt to Lafayette and to embattled France.

Pick a time period, a genre, an artist, a word—and go looking! There's something in this storehouse to accompany almost any topic from 1901–1925, if you look hard enough. Use the recordings to grab your students' attention—or ask them to analyze or compare music and lyrics. What do the words (if you choose a vocal piece) say? What emotions does the piece seem to seek to evoke? When was it recorded? Where? Who audience did the composer, artist, or publisher have in mind?

Finding music by topic can be difficult, as none of the pieces have transcriptions, but a little creative searching should leave you with at least a handful of catchy new sources to play with. Watch for more to come—the Library of Congress adds new content monthly, and it hopes to provide content from other Sony labels, such as Columbia and Okeh, in the future.

The impressive Star-Spangled Banner, America's almost 200-year old, 34-by-34-foot flag that inspired Francis Scott Key to pen the national anthem, is a highlight exhibit at the Smithsonian Museum of American History.

But as important as the flag and the anthem are to our national identity, it's no secret that singing the anthem is not for the faint-of-voice or for the monotone, although it's publicly sung in every imaginable venue by choirs, opera singers, pop and rap performers, and many, many, many more. Now, the Smithsonian offers visitors to the online Star-Spangled Banner exhibit a chance to show the world how it ought to be sung on YouTube.

The Smithsonian invites you to

Sing the national anthem your way! Upload your video to our YouTube group and enter to win the Star-Spangled Banner singing contest sponsored by the National Museum of American History and USA WEEKEND. The Grand Prize winner will be invited to perform the national anthem at the Museum in Washington, DC and at the Baltimore Orioles vs. Atlanta Braves game, both on Flag Day (June 14, 2009). The prize includes a trip for two to Washington, DC, including airfare and two nights hotel accommodations; tickets and transportation to a Baltimore Orioles baseball game; and $400 in spending money.

Sample entries are posted; just hit the Go button and start singing!

But first, tour other elements of this online exhibit. The Star-Spangled Banner site looks at the flag as history, as artifact, and as symbol. It weaves narratives of the past with present-day meaning. The exhibit tells the story of the flag and invites viewers to explore the physical features and dimensions of this carefully-preserved remnant. Close-up zooms focus on the fabric, weave, and color and explain history and conservation efforts over the years.

Mini-essays and quizzes give context to the War of 1812 and explain why the Star-Spangled Banner and subsequent versions of the flag came to hold such meaning for Americans. Read the history of the American flag, and investigate rules and rituals surrounding its display and use.

The interactive feature, Share Your Story, encourages individuals to talk about the meaning of the flag in their own lives and to upload photographs illustrating that meaning.