From the Classroom to Conference: Memphis Conference Invitation

Presenting research abroad, crossing contexts, and facing the fear (and thrill) of the spotlight

I never expected to see “You are invited to present in Memphis” in my inbox. But there it was. An international conference in Tennessee. A room full of American music educators. And me—talking about student voice in UK secondary schools.

If you’d told me five years ago I’d be presenting at an international education conference in Memphis, I would’ve laughed. Honestly, I probably would’ve asked if you were joking.

Because this—all of this—was never the plan.

I come from a rough school in Portsmouth. Not just taught there—educated there. A school where success wasn’t assumed. Where the idea of academia felt about as distant as the being a professional footballer. I didn’t grow up around research, or people with PhDs, or even the language of university life. It wasn’t something I ever imagined myself doing, and it definitely wasn’t something I thought I’d want to do.

Music was always the passion. Teaching, the calling. That felt enough.

But somewhere along the way—through classrooms filled with students with big voices and bigger stories, through conversations about who controls the curriculum and whose music gets heard—I started to ask deeper questions. Questions that didn’t have quick answers. Questions that nudged me towards research.

And now here I am: preparing to fly halfway across the world to talk to a room of American educators about student voice in music education.

The Invitation

My workshop, “Student Voice in Practice and Research,” was originally designed for a UK audience. It’s grounded in my doctoral work and years of experience as a teacher and curriculum leader. The session explores how co-constructed curricula—built with students, not just for them—can challenge neoliberal policy frameworks and re-centre equity and agency in music education.

So when I was invited to take this work across the Atlantic, I was genuinely thrilled. But I quickly realised: things aren’t necessarily transferable.

Crossing Systems

One of the biggest challenges? The lack of crossover between the UK and US education systems.

Different policies. Different pressures. Different understandings of what “curriculum” even means. Concepts like the National Plan for Music Education or Key Stage 3 don’t land in the same way. And while “student voice” resonates internationally, its practical implementation looks different depending on the school system you're working in.

That meant I had to go back to my proposal and rethink how I framed everything. Thankfully, the workshop structure I’d developed—based on policy critique, implementation strategies, and collaborative discussion—was flexible enough to adapt.

The proposal itself became a kind of anchor. It reminded me what this session was for: to connect, to challenge, and to explore how student voice can work—even across different national and institutional contexts.

Standing in the (American) Room

Still, the nerves haven’t gone. Presenting to an audience of mostly American educators feels daunting. Will my references translate? Will my framing of power, agency, and voice connect? Will I sound like I know what I’m talking about?

That little voice—that imposter one—is loud. But so is the belief that this work matters. That student voice isn’t a UK thing or a US thing—it’s a human thing. A pedagogical and ethical commitment that transcends borders.

What I’m Hoping For

This academic path? It’s weird. It still doesn’t quite feel like mine. I never set out to be a “researcher.” But what I’ve come to realise is that research isn’t about prestige or performance. It’s about curiosity. About justice. About making education better—for real students, in real classrooms.

I hope it sparks conversations. I hope we find common ground. I hope educators in Memphis leave the room thinking about how their students’ voices are heard—or not heard—in their classrooms.

And personally, I hope I leave feeling a little braver. A little more rooted. A little more ready for the next step.

Because if this process has taught me anything, it’s this:You never know where your research might take you. But when it calls, it’s worth following—even if it’s all the way to Memphis.