How Do You Hear That? Autism, Blindness, and Teaching Music Theory

On Hearing[1] In the documentary film Touch The Sound, which examines Evelyn Glennie's life as a deaf percussionist, Glennie remarks,If someone asks me: 'Oh well, how do you hear that?' - then I simply say: 'I really don't know, but I just basically hear that through my body, through opening myself up. How do you hear that?' ... So, when you try to bounce the question back to a so-called hearing person, then they simply do not know how to answer these questions. So therefore, why should I be put in that position?[2] Hearing is very much a subjective experience, difficult to put into words. As "hearing" people, we find it very difficult to understand Glennie's experience with music. The question "How do you hear that?" is really a substitute for the more dubious question "How can you hear that?" Reinterpreting the question using the former, more inclusive meaning, Glennie still casts doubts on its intentions. Her experience with music is different, but no less valid than that of a "hearing" person's.[3] Music theory is often taught to reflect "normative" hearing. Alternate hearings are discouraged, or are at least marginalized in the classroom. Where does this leave people like Glennie whose aural understanding of music falls so far out of the norm?[4] Autism and blindness both carry with them particular experiential differences that extend to multiple perceptual realms. Normative hearing is profoundly redefined for people with these "disabilities." In this paper, I would like to make some observations about experiences I have had with two people named Noah and Laura. Diagnosed with autism at age 19 months in 2005, my son Noah developed a deep sensory connection to music and sound early in life. One year after Noah's diagnosis, Laura, a blind student with special musical talent, enrolled in my first year music theory course at Swarthmore College. I don't wish to suggest the approaches that Noah and Laura take to understanding music are generalizable to all members of their respective demographics; it is enough to understand how their modes of hearing are deeply affected by their "disabilities," which can give us some insight into the wider spectrum of musical understanding.[5] In searching for ways to connect with my son, whose verbal and social communication skills are limited, I have found music to be an invaluable resource. I would like to address my experience as a father trying to make sense of his son's world, viewing it through the prism of his understanding of and experience with music. My experiences with Noah have had a strong effect on my approach to teaching Laura, and I would also like to compare her modes of hearing and experiencing music to his.Theories of Autism[6] In current psychological literature, there are three prevailing theories of autism designed to subsume the condition's many symptoms and diagnostic criteria. The first identifies a lack of theory of mind in individuals with autism, the inability to ascribe mental states to others. Impairment of executive function highlights the difficulty with hierarchizing thoughts and actions, producing obstacles towards initiating or inhibiting immediate actions. Finally, weak central coherence (WCC), which I will concentrate on here, posits an inability to see things holistically, finding a focus on details to the exclusion of the big picture. A classic example of WCC in autism is found in Daniel Tammet's book Born on a Blue Day (2006), in the diagram reproduced in Figure 1. When asked to identify the letters they see, autistic individuals are more likely to see an A on the left and an H on the right than their typically developing peers, who will see the opposite.Figure 1Figure 2. Which line is longer?[7] Note that all three of these theories are deficit models of autism, emphasizing inability over difference. Indeed, in the research literature, there is a tendency to position even seeming strengths resulting from cognitive difference as weaknesses. …