Abstract
When I was at school, my parents encouraged me to always choose a balanced curriculum whenever subject selection was allowed. Both of my parents were primary school teachers, and my siblings and I were encouraged to study a range of subjects: mathematics and English, sciences and arts, languages and humanities. During my time at university, studying probability and statistics, I realised how important it was that I had also studied geology and biology alongside mathematics and statistics for my A Levels as well as home economics (textiles), music, chemistry, English language and literacy, religious education, French, Latin, physical education, and many others in the preceding years. With this background, I was better placed to put my learning into context; these weren’t just numbers, I was able to understand and communicate the meaning of the data that I was analysing. I also realised that I had enjoyed the creativity of the curriculum; it was positive and enhanced my problem solving and analytical skills. I have relied on these skills throughout my career, and in life generally. This Special Issue for the Australian Journal of Education came from my own experience of education and the idea that creativity and positivity were needed in our classrooms, in teacher professional development, in initial teacher training, and in learning. The idea of a holistic education is not new: for me, many years ago, my parents had introduced me to Herbert Read, who in his 1943 work Education Through Art emphasised that art should be the basis of education.
But what of arts in the current landscape of Australian education? And more generally? As we considered how to visually introduce this Special Issue, we found ourselves returning to the same questions that are asked in the articles within it: How do we honour creativity in a changing world? And how do we help teachers and learners navigate the tools that now shape our cultural landscape? Artificial intelligence, for all its challenges and disruptions, is already transforming the arts and education in ways we can neither ignore nor fully anticipate. Choosing an AI-generated cover image became, for us, a way of acknowledging this moment – of recognising that creativity now includes new forms of collaboration between human imagination and digital possibility. Rather than seeing AI as a threat to artistic practice, we wanted to signal that educators can engage with these technologies critically, thoughtfully, and playfully, just as we ask students to do. The cover, then, stands as both a provocation and an invitation: a reminder that the arts have always evolved, and that our task is not necessarily to resist change but to ensure that creativity, care, and human meaning remain at the centre of it.
In bringing this collection together, I was struck by how each contribution speaks to how the arts continue to help us make sense of our world, even as that world shifts around us.
Naomi Zouwer and her colleagues invite us to consider what it truly means for cultural institutions to become places of learning that are participatory, rather than merely observational. Their contribution reflects on a 15-month collaboration between the National Gallery of Australia and the University of Canberra, during which a bespoke participatory learning framework was co-created. What emerges is a thoughtful account of how pedagogical principles, artistic practice, and institutional identity can be woven together to support deeper engagement for learners of all ages. The authors remind us that galleries hold enormous potential as educational partners when teaching strategies honour the unique character and purpose of these spaces.
In a similar spirit of connection, Meg Steele, Alexander Crooke, and Kat McFerran explore how six teachers continued to use music meaningfully long after completing the Music for Classroom Wellbeing program. Their study shows how intentional musical practices became a gentle yet powerful thread running through daily classroom life – strengthening relationships, supporting emotional regulation, and adapting learning opportunities to meet diverse student needs. What the teachers describe is not simply the use of music but the cultivation of environments in which both students and teachers could feel grounded, safe, and seen. The authors highlight the promise of music-based approaches for nurturing wellbeing and enriching pedagogical practice.
Rebecca Taylor and Daniel Edwards provide a grounded account of the realities facing music education in New South Wales government primary schools. Drawing on a large and representative survey of teachers, they surface the everyday conditions that shape whether music is taught confidently, sequentially, and with the support it deserves. Their work gives important visibility to the experiences of classroom teachers – their preparation, their challenges, and the value they see in music for student learning. In doing so, they offer a vital evidence base for policy and program development aimed at ensuring that all children have access to a rich and sustained music education.
Christina Gray and Robin Pascoe invite us into the uniquely transformative world of the drama classroom. Through interviews with teachers and pre-service teachers in Western Australia, a rich picture emerges of drama as an educational space where confidence grows, values shift, and creative risks feel not only possible but encouraged. What the participants describe extends far beyond performance skills; drama becomes a place where students learn to navigate vulnerability, collaboration, and the complexity of human experience. In making visible the often-taken-for-granted belief that drama is inherently transformative, the authors remind us why the arts remain so vital in our schools: they help shape who young people become.
Robyn Carmody and her colleagues turn our attention to the formative years of teacher preparation, where many pre-service teachers struggle to imagine themselves as arts educators. Their article describes how tertiary arts educators re-designed a foundational ITE course to nurture that confidence, drawing on creative body-based learning alongside a renewed ethics of care. The result is a pedagogical approach that positions creativity and relationality at the heart of teacher development – recognising that the arts are not an ‘add-on’ but a way of thinking, feeling, and engaging with the world that future teachers must experience for themselves before they can offer it to their students.
Sandra Gattenhof and John Saunders widen the lens further, examining the national landscape of arts education and creative industries at a time of profound upheaval. Their discussion brings together emerging data on course closures, declining enrolments, and the impacts of policy decisions such as Job-Ready Graduates. They highlight a stark tension between aspirations for a vibrant national cultural sector and the steady contraction of arts learning opportunities in schools and universities. By situating these trends within Australia’s National Cultural Policy, they call for renewed alignment between rhetoric and resourcing if the arts are to remain central to the nation’s educational and cultural life.
This issue closes with my review of The Sage Handbook of School Music Education, a volume that brings together an international group of scholars committed to re-imagining what music learning can be in contemporary schooling. The editors have thoughtfully structured the handbook around four interconnected conversations – philosophical foundations, equity and social justice, curriculum, and teacher education – inviting readers to consider how music education might speak more directly to the complex realities of students’ lives. What emerges is a gentle but insistent call to move beyond narrow, performance-centred measures of success and towards approaches that cultivate creativity, citizenship, and critical engagement. We are reminded that music education, at its best, is not merely an artistic endeavour but a deeply human one: a way of helping young people find their place, their voice, and their sense of connection within the broader tapestry of school and society.
I would like to close this issue with two votes of thanks. Firstly, thank you to Kylie Hillman, the Editor-in-Chief of the Australian Journal of Education. Kylie has supported me to create this Special Issue, and I couldn’t have done it without all her hard work. Secondly, thank you to David and Gaynor, who shared their view with me that education needs the arts. I dedicate this Special Issue to you, my Dad and Mum; your artwork around my house reminds me of you both; I wish you could have read this Special Issue.
Keep composing, singing, dancing, painting, sculpting, crafting, weaving and however else you express yourself, and learning.
ORCID iD
Rachel Felgate https://orcid.org/0000-0002-0817-6743