Inclusion in the Music Room

What does inclusion look like in a music room?

In reality, this may look different depending on where the session takes place. A school hall, a private teaching studio, a community setting, or a baby music group will all run slightly differently.

But every music room has one thing in common: the music. And really, if the music remains the focal point, inclusion follows quite closely behind.

When I’m training facilitators or working with teachers, I often say

If you feel like you’re doing too much talking, you probably are. Just do the music.

Music itself is the most accessible way to bring people into the room.

Start Simple

Start with something everyone can access straight away:

It’s not complicated, but it tells you a lot about the group; who joins in immediately, who may just observe, and who looks towards the sound, who copies an action.

Once everyone has tapped into the pulse, it’s easy to build from there. Add a second rhythm, introduce movement, or bring in instruments. The important thing is, everyone is present and part of the music.

Group Music

Something I’ve noticed over the years, is group music-making requires a slightly different kind of confidence.

Even very accomplished musicians can feel uncomfortable making music in a group setting that feels more exposed or improvisational. Clapping rhythms, experimenting with sounds, or moving with the music can feel surprisingly vulnerable when you’re surrounded by peers or colleagues.

Sometimes the first task in a music session isn’t adding complexity, it’s simply helping the group feel comfortable enough to engage. Once that barrier reduces, the music tends to grow naturally.

What Engagement Looks Like

Of course, not everyone engages with music in the same way. Some might respond to music through movement, repetition, or behaviours that don’t always fit our expectations of “participation”, and that’s where our understanding of inclusion really matters.

About five years ago, I was excited to watch one of my autistic music students in her school nativity play. She was five years old and attended a mainstream school; I’d been teaching her for three years.

Her language was developing, she had no extreme behaviours, and did some sensory seeking like rocking and stimming; musically she was remarkable. She lived and breathed music. Her sense of rhythm and pitch was incredibly strong, and she sang beautifully.

As expected, she was fantastic in her show. She transitioned on and off the stage and sang confidently. During the moments when the children were sitting and watching other parts of the performance, something caught my attention. Her teaching assistant immediately brought out a box of distractions; toys, fidgets, anything to occupy her attention.

I was shocked. Here was a child who adored music, yet she wasn’t being given the chance to watch or listen to the rest of the performance.

I realised the intention was to prevent her becoming visibly involved. In some classroom contexts, this kind of management makes sense, but this was a music performance, a celebration, a moment of shared creativity, and these children were five years old.

If a child wants to move, sing along, or respond physically to the music, they should be allowed that outlet. It’s exactly what music invites us to do. When was the last time you attended a music concert and told to sit down and be quiet?

Let the Music Lead

Music is art. It’s expression. It’s something we’re meant to feel, not just observe politely.

If you think about the last time you went to a concert (concerts may vary), you probably didn’t sit still the entire time. You might have clapped, tapped your foot, swayed, sung along, or just gone for it.

That instinct to respond is what makes music so powerful.

So when someone in a music session joins in in an unexpected way, maybe they move differently, make different sounds, or engage from the edge of the room, it’s worth encouraging the response, celebrate it, because it's engagement.

Sometimes the most inclusive response is simply to let them be part of the music, and the best thing we can do is join them.

Inclusion in the music room isn’t about changing the participants. It’s about letting go of our own expectations and allowing the music to do what it does naturally: bring people in.