Madalynn Neu RN, PhD

Assistant Professor

School of Nursing

University of Colorado Health Sciences Center

Monograph #5 in the series on Culture and Diversity

July, 2001

Most of us probably stray from our normative nest occasionally. When we are able to reflect on others’ reactions to our perceived deviance and appreciate our responses to those reactions we enhance our sensitivity. This increased awareness allows us to understand how we relate to others who seem different. In truth, how different are these outsiders?

The Outsider

Several months ago, I began attending a seminar addressing cultural diversity. My desire was to increase my understanding and sensitivity to people of various cultural backgrounds. After enjoying discussions led by others in the group, who quite knowledgeably presented their topics, I was assigned to present a topic of my choice. In dismay I thought, “ I’m attending this seminar to learn about diversity. I’m no expert. What in the world will I present?” Then, I realized that I have kept a secret for most of my adult life to avoid the ridicule that accompanies being different. This clandestine passion that places me outside several “norms,’ and subjects me to the derision of “typical people,” is playing classical accordion.

If you are not smirking as several accordion jokes and stereotypes come to mind, you may be wondering if an “oxymoron” like classical accordion even exists. In fact, even as I told my story to members of the seminar, who generally welcome diversity, I encountered a few clichés and insensitive remarks from the musical elitists. In the ensuing discussion, it appeared that prior, deeply rooted knowledge and beliefs about a subject are difficult to change. And anyway, I was only talking about the accordion. Why should I be bothered by a little innocent joking?

In telling my story, I do not wish to trivialize the situation of those who through no wish of their own spend most of their lives outside the ‘norm,” and who endure various forms of prejudice, oppression and unhappiness. My goal in preparing the presentation was to use my experience to draw some parallels and enhance my insight.

I am a well educated, middle class urbanite who lives in the normative circle of educated, middle class urbanites. I am comfortable in this normative circle, so try to conform - most of the time. I enjoy classical music, which is perfectly acceptable. Playing the accordion, however definitely is not a typical hobby and it is an act that pushes me outside the circle of normality. Not only am I on the outside of the educated middle class, urbanite circle, I also am outside the classical musician’s circle and even outside the normative circle of modern accordionists, who typically play folk popular music.

My story began when as a young child, I wanted, more than anything else, to play a musical instrument. In the 1950’s accordion was quite popular. When I was seven years old, the “accordion lady” waltzed to my doorstep in Chicago, and offered me six free accordion lessons. This was the first offer I had to play an instrument. I was thrilled, and readily agreed to take advantage of the lessons. Thus began my passion with the accordion.

During the first few years of lessons, my proud family displayed my playing to anyone who entered the house, regardless of their desire to hear me. I also enjoyed a large support group of other accordionists. Accordion schools flourished, and provided various levels of accordion orchestras, recitals, contests, and opportunities for socializing with the other students. While I was shielded from the fact that the accordion was considered a folk instrument, not played by real musicians, I blissfully imagined that I was becoming a musician.

I experienced the first indication that the accordion was not a “real” or acceptable instrument in the fifth grade. My elementary school began a music program that included a student orchestra. I was ecstatic! Here was my chance to perform music with children who played other instruments. I eagerly approached the music teacher announcing that I had played the accordion for a few years and would love to play in the orchestra. He was polite, but clearly informed me that accordions were not orchestral instruments. I did perform at the school concerts as a soloist. However, I will never know if the invitation was because the music teacher didn’t know what else to do with me, valued my playing, or wanted to include a novelty in the performance. In spite of being singled out to play a solo, or maybe because I was singled out, I began to feel separate from the realm of normal budding musicians.

During middle and high school, I realized without the slightest doubt that I was an outsider to the traditional world of classical music. Some of my friends played in high school orchestras and bands. I wanted to play in those orchestras so badly, but of course, I could not participate. Why didn’t I abandon the accordion and play a “real instrument?” By this time the accordion was part of me, part of my image, and I played it well. Throughout high school, I practiced four hours a day individually, plus five or six hours a week with accordion orchestra and ensemble practice, and several hours a week teaching beginning accordionists. I dabbled some with the piano, but it wasn’t the same. Some of my fondest memories comprise the strong support group of other accordionists, concerts, contests, and summer travel with the accordion orchestra. In fact, in accordion orchestra, I met my future husband.

I also began to experience some anger and frustration. I knew that my musical education, that focused on classical music, equaled or excelled what was provided in the high schools or privately to students of “real’ instruments, but it was separate from theirs. I’m sure it also was considered to be inferior. It was clear to me that the accordion would never be accepted as a serious instrument. When it came time to choose a career, I did not choose music. Several universities offered a degree in accordion, but I believed, correctly, that too much prejudice against the instrument existed for a successful career to be possible. There were hundreds of superb musicians who played the accordion from the 1920’s to the early 1970’s, and several accordionists who performed with renowned orchestras (http://trfn.clpgh.org/free-reed/history.html). But in the mid-1970’s the popularity of the accordion waned seriously and the instrument almost vanished in the next decade. Most of the people who pursued accordion as a career eventually switched professions. Perhaps too much musical division existed among accordionists. Classical accordionists were never in the majority, certainly in an inadequate number to dent prejudicial armor, and the guitar was quickly replacing the accordion as a folk instrument.

My husband and I did continue to play duets, and in accordion ensembles and orchestras until we moved from Chicago in 1974. Initially we mentioned to new acquaintances that we played the accordion. The first reaction was laughter, then a comment such as “Oh the squeezebox,” or “You play the squawker? How did you ever get into that?” Trying to explain to incredulous people that we played classical accordion became exasperating and humiliating, so we stopped mentioning it. Without a known support system of accordionists in our new home, we put the accordions away and developed other interests. I don’t know why, but we never even told our children that we played. We also provided music lessons to our children with" real” instruments to allow them to perform and continue in the field if they desired, without harassment.

We live in Denver now. Two years ago, when we became “empty nesters” my husband and I extracted our accordions from the storage closet and began to play together again. Through one of the few accordion schools that survived the accordion demise, YMA, we met two other serious accordionists who also had abandoned the accordion for many years. None of us imagined that we would retain our technique after all those years, but we did. What a gift this is, and what hours of gratification we have experienced in the last two years. We play classical, and light-classical music, that either was written for the accordion or that we transcribe from orchestra and ensemble scores.

Somehow in our happiness, we forgot about the tremendous amount of prejudice toward, and ignorance of the accordion. We didn’t realize what a shock it would be to our friends to discover that we played the accordion! Our more open-minded friends were curious. Others were less accepting. One couple immediately brought us videotape ridiculing the accordion. Another couple scanned the web and hand-carried accordion jokes to us. We are at a loss to explain the negativity so have hypothesized that our nonsupportive friends might be embarrassed by us, or for us. Perhaps they are trying to save us from foolish behavior. In fairness to them, we have never displayed any sign of deviancy before this. They also may assume, as pointed out in the diversity group, that something as trivial as playing the accordion is “safe-ground” for a little innocent taunting, and wonder why we are not laughing at the jokes.

We have pitifully little support from others circles as well. Musicians who play “real "instruments make it clear to us that classical accordion is outside of the normative classical musician circle and are rather incredulous in their mockery: “You have an ensemble of four accordions?! That’s too bad.” Even accordionists tell us that we take the music too seriously, and advise us to include polkas in our repertoire. After all, “ the accordion is a folk instrument.” This is true. The original accordion, patented in 1829, was made of two single-action harmonicas, connected by bellows that could be used only for simple folk melodies. Consequently, the accordion was associated only with street, or bar-room music for many years (http://trfn.clpgh.org/free-reed/history.html). We know, however, that the accordion is a tremendously versatile instrument.

So, because of ignorance and prejudice, we are banished from three normative circles, and are moving to a smaller and smaller minority consisting of classical accordionists. We love playing the accordion. It is part of us. Thus, when others ridicule the accordion, we feel personally assaulted. We recently attended an orchestral concert that supposedly featured an accordionist. We felt saddened and embarrassed for him, and angry as the conductor made a few tongue and cheek slurs, and as the accordionist sat, barely playing with the orchestra, and as we realized that having an accordionist present for an Italian concert was merely a token.

We have been silently enduring accordion barbs. Particularly when friends are involved, we hesitated to confront them. But now, we find ourselves becoming tense as we wait for the insult when mentioning what instrument we play. We have become increasingly frustrated, defensive, and quick to become angry. My husband responded with an immediate, unpleasant retort when a “friend” interrupted a classical duet performance by whispering in my husband’s ear that what we were playing was nice, but “wouldn’t Lady of Spain be a more appropriate choice of music for the accordion?” (Lady of Spain is an early level accordion piece that every accordionist learns and was overplayed by many performers on the Ted Mack Original Amateur Hour). The better response, I suppose, is expectation of elitism and intolerance in some people, and a calm explanation of our experience with the accordion that includes our feelings toward the ridicule.

Our small ensemble group also plans to promote the accordion as a classical instrument. The good news is that those musician and non-musicians who are open enough to listen to us perform express pleasure when they here us play, although almost always with a qualification. A typical comment is “ I enjoyed that. I never expected an accordion to sound that way.” What does that mean? Is it a complement or only an indication that the performance was better than their lowered expectation? The most rewarding comment that we receive is what would be given to a string, brass, or mixed ensemble - an unequivocal, “That was wonderful. I enjoyed that.”

We recently received a supreme complement. A string quartet is combining with our ensemble to perform a Mendelssohn octet. This is dream fulfillment for me. We expect that people who profess that accordionists do not belong on the same stage with concert musicians will not attend this performance. Others, more open to diverse experiences will listen and evaluate the performance as they would for any musical group, or will, at least, appreciate a rather unique new experience.

As stated earlier, I do not mean to trivialize stereotyping, elitism or prejudice. I am not compelled to be an outsider. I can choose not to play the accordion as I did for so many years and return to my comfortable cocoon of normalcy. Reflecting on my experiences surrounding the accordion, however, has helped me to perceive some of what others feel who for some reason must remain outside the norm, and to understand responses that develop from those feelings. I now understand how distressing condescension from others in school or social situations might feel to a child who previously has experienced admiration from family members and friends. I realize how one might not value a separate experience even though extolled as equal, and how it might feel for one to know he or she is the equal of another but not to be accepted or valued. I understand why one might not choose to pursue a goal or dream. The odds might seem too overpowering and they may be. I find it easier to grasp why someone might reject his or her true self to pass for the majority. I can better appreciate seemingly inappropriate defensiveness, frustration, or anger from one who has quietly tolerated prejudicial treatment and affronts for many years.

Since preparing this reflection, I was astonished at how easily stereotypic thoughts that are virtually unsupported by fact cross my mind. I am more aware that jokes that seem innocent or inconsequential to me, may hurt someone else’s feelings. This reflection has made me more willing to open myself to experiences or people who appear to be outside my normative circles, and to appreciate them for their own merit, not because they are a novelty or because I want to be polite. By embracing this new openness, I expect that I will enjoy a much more fulfilled and interesting life.