Music, I assume from the fact you're reading this magazine, is a huge part of your life. When you speak to others about music, for all your ease with technical and descriptive terms you know that in order to truly understand, people must listen to it – or play it. However, we're music educators; the heart of our work is communication. We must use language effectively and choose the right words for the job. It's how we communicate our values and intentions. While music does so much that words cannot, one quality shared by music and language is that they are not fixed, but change and develop over time.
Drake Music has been working in a variety of settings for over 20 years – its central aim is ‘to build a world where disabled and non-disabled musicians work together as equals’. In May, Drake made an announcement about language. The organisation posted on its website that it will stop using the term ‘SEN/D’ (Special Educational Needs and Disabilities):
‘Drake Music is moving away from using the term SEN/D due to its broad meaning – it doesn't provide the information we need, or that Disabled people identify with. We are responding to the discussion that the SEN/D label does not come from a place of ownership. It has been placed upon children and young people and denotes ‘other’ and ‘segregation’. We therefore prefer to say young disabled people rather than young people with SEN/D.’
It's necessary here to briefly outline different models for thinking about disability. The medical model views impairment as inherent in a disabled person's body – something to be cured or fixed. If someone cannot use stairs and no ‘miracle cure’ is forthcoming, medical model thinking would leave such a person sidelined. The social model holds that often societal arrangements are what cause the impairment, not the person's disability. If someone who cannot use stairs wishes to access a building that only has stairs, the problem is with the building, not the person. The solution is to install an alternative to the stairs. Drake's mission and practice are firmly rooted in the social model.
‘Disabled people have been arguing this since the late 1980s, apparently unheard or unlistened to by non-disabled educationalists’, says Ian Popperwell, a flautist who is visually impaired. ‘The social model of disability doesn't deny that disabled people have needs, sometimes quite complex ones, but it tries to redefine those needs and the responsibility for meeting them into societal ones. The SEN/D mindset also suggests that everyone else's needs are “not special” and are “standard” in some way, when this is far from the case.’
Singer-songwriter and actor Rona Topaz also rejects the ‘special’ in SEN/D. ‘Everyone is special in the real definition of the term, because we are all unique as individuals. The term as applied to disabled people is exceptionally patronising and is firmly rooted in the medical model.’
Drake's ultimate goal is to open up more musical opportunities for people with disabilities, and changing terminology is one part of this. Topaz sees a direct connection between language and access to musical opportunities: ‘Language influences our thought process. We are disabled people, disabled by society, not “people with disabilities” and most certainly not “the disabled”! The music education sector could create work opportunities with positive discrimination. For example, job adverts could say that under-represented groups – such as disabled people – will be prioritised for shortlisting.’
The Department for Education uses ‘SEN/D’ and the state schools for ‘SEN/D’ children and young people are called ‘special schools’. SEN/D is widely used – I've seen parents protesting cuts to their children's funding using the term as they do so. Arts practitioners running projects in such schools generally take their lead from the schools on the terminology to use.
Rose led BSO Resound at this year's Proms © KIRSTEN MCTERNAN
‘We were aware that the label is very widely used within music education and is a “code” or “shortcut” to a shared understanding of an area of specialist practice and inclusion,’ explains Drake's Douglas Noble. ‘We discussed whether moving way from using “SEN/D” would mean that some of the target audience for our work might not see that it was for them. Since going public with the decision, we do not think it has in any way affected the demand for our work, which is crucial as a small charity which operates on tight margins and relies on revenue.
‘In the end it felt like an issue on which we needed to take a leadership position, given that we are advocating and campaigning for, and working towards internally, a change in the under-representation of disabled people in leadership in the music education sector.’
The world of work for musicians and music educators who are disabled is still difficult to navigate – Drake's Think 2020 report found a much lower than average rate of disabled people in the workforce. Rachel is a wind player: ‘There is always the assumption that we are all able-bodied and that needs to be addressed. I don't need working legs to play horns. Most bookers assume that we can all “muck in” to an extent – that we can lift all our own gear and make do with ramshackle stage builds, lack of steps and handrails, or shoddy toilets. On more than one occasion I have found myself unable to access the stage I'm being paid to perform on. It is a difficult position to be in. I don't want to put off bookers or inconvenience my bandmates, but I should be able to perform to the best of my abilities without fear of actual physical harm.’
There's not an either/or when it comes to language and practical actions. A young musician with a disability may face alienating or inaccurate language, then grow up to play gigs on stages she can't access. Neither, although everyone I spoke to strongly rejected ‘special’, is there consensus on ‘the right words’ – just imagine asking every musician in the UK to somehow form an official consensus on ‘the best composer’. It's an ongoing discussion, one that should centre on the musicians and young music learners who change would impact.
The ways that people use language, respond to music and think about disability are always evolving. Take Ian Dury's ‘Spasticus Autisticus’ – Dury wrote it in response to the 1981 ‘International Year of Disabled Persons’, which he found patronising. The BBC promptly banned it. Fast forward to 2012; a performance of the song at the Paralympics opening ceremony, by Orbital and members of the Graeae Theatre Company, was watched by millions.
