For 40 years and counting, the National Association for Music Education (NAfME) has celebrated music education and its educators every March for Music In Our Schools Month. However, this year is different, following President Donald Trump's executive order to close the Department of Education. Although the long-term effects are unclear, it poses a viable threat to the future of arts education programs in the United States, which have already been severely underfunded for decades.
While it may be a confusing time for many educators, in the eyes of Howard University professor Carolyn Malachi, it also presents an opportunity to show just how crucial arts education programs are.
"Music education, especially the technical side, has never been more important," Malachi — a GRAMMY-nominated R&B singer, producer and engineer who has taught at Howard since 2018 — stresses to GRAMMY.com. "The skills students develop in audio production and engineering extend beyond music into film, gaming and emerging tech. The possibilities are endless."
As a music educator, Malachi has used her voice to advocate and make more space for underrepresented groups interested in the technical side of music. Currently, she serves as the Producing & Engineering co-chair for The Recording Academy's Washington, D.C. Chapter and teaches courses in the GRAMMY GO creator-to-creator learning platform. She has also hosted guest lectures and workshops and participated in panels at the Smithsonian's Natural History Museum ("Digital Futurism"), the Audio Engineering Society ("Equity Learning Series: Immersive and Inclusive — A Discussion of Representation in Immersive Audio") and more.
For Malachi, it all started with her great-grandfather, John Malachi; a recipient of the Benny Golson Jazz Masters Award and former educator at Howard, he taught her the joy of music. She later became a Fulbright Scholar at Shepherd University, studying music production and performing internationally, including the United Kingdom, Japan, South Africa, and St. Lucia. On the heels of her graduation, Malachi released her debut project, Lions, Fires & Squares, which earned her a GRAMMY nomination in 2011 for Best Urban/Alternative Performance ("Orion").
Since then, Malachi has earned her master's degree in Audio Technology from American University and received an honorary doctorate from her undergraduate alma mater. And just like her great-grandfather did decades earlier, Malachi is now ready to pass the torch to another generation of rising artists, teaching students how to step into their musicality in audio production courses as a full-time professor.
Rounding out Music In Our Schools Month, Malachi sat down with GRAMMY.com to explain why music education is imperative to artistic development, how the instructors in her life inspired her to pursue music, and how she continues to advocate for her students during tumultuous times in the United States.
Since you're both an educator and an artist yourself, why do you think music education is important?
Music education isn't just about music. It builds critical thinking, problem-solving and collaboration skills.
I teach in the Cathy Hughes School of Communication. In my Music & Media music production class, students learn how to inform and create the emotional impact of media narrative developed by our film, television and advertising students. With the emergence of new podcasts, documentaries, narrative films, and other media, it's music that helps us feel the depth of the moment and make sense of it all.
How do you advocate for your students in and outside of the classroom?
Though I teach production, we spend a significant time developing relevant entrepreneurial skills. We talk about the importance of owning the means of production, developing healthy relationships with experienced professionals who can help shape their careers, and that emerging technologies and new knowledge will always provide an impetus to grow.
I also push for opportunity, whether it's bringing guest speakers, setting up collaborations or making sure they walk away with something tangible for their portfolios. Dr. Leslie Gaston-Bird visited us last summer and taught a weeks-long workshop in Dolby Atmos. GRAMMY Award-winning engineer Brandie Lane opened up her Pro Tools session and walked through her process. Cayman Kelly and Brian Freeland of SiriusXM shared their production and engineering processes and fielded students' industry questions. Emily Lazar — another GRAMMY Award-winning engineer — her nonprofit, We Are Moving the Needle, donated mics.
When the music community, especially my GRAMMY family, shows up, my students feel seen and their confidence grows.
Despite threats on music education, what keeps you going as an educator?
The students. Seeing them develop their craft, create meaningful work and carve out their own paths. That's what keeps me motivated. Music education isn't just about preserving tradition — it's about building what's next.
What were some of the most influential parts of your childhood education that taught you the importance of a passionate teacher — and inspired you to become an educator yourself?
The best teacher I had didn't just teach. They made me curious. They encouraged experimentation, challenged me to think critically and gave me space to grow. That is the kind of energy I try to bring into my own classroom.
You received a Fulbright grant at the start of your career to support research and training in foreign countries. How did that experience inform your decision to become a professor at Howard University?
It reinforced that music is global. It's culture, technology and storytelling all wrapped into one. Howard University felt like the perfect place to continue that work.
What drew you to Howard specifically?
Howard University has a legacy of musical excellence and innovation. My great-grandfather, John Malachi, taught in the jazz department, so I grew up knowing the caliber of artists and scholars who came through the school. I wanted to be a part of that tradition while pushing forward new opportunities in audio production and engineering because these skills are widely applicable.
What has been the most meaningful moment of your career in music education? And what are some of the things your students have taught you as a professor?
Every semester is special. This semester, SiriusXM and Howard University have a new podcast collaboration called "Sound and Scholarship." The project is in conjunction with Howard's new hip-hop minor. My Advanced Audio Production students — seniors who have been with me since their freshman year — are handling post-production, while my Music in Media students, mostly sophomores, are producing original music for the podcast's inaugural season.
Watching the two classes work together is truly amazing. There is collaboration and mentorship, not to mention a few dozen previously unknown plug-ins to learn. As a professor, I've learned that students will work toward the standards I set. So, I do my best to set the bar high. However high you're thinking, just know that it's probably higher than that.
For GRAMMY GO, you teach a course called "Music Production: Crafting an Award-Worthy Song." Since award-worthy is subjective, how did you discover and define what award-worthiness meant to you?
The GRAMMY GO course specialization is a game changer. With the three courses, it comes down to honoring genre-specific creative intention, technical excellence and emotional impact. A great song sounds good. It feels good. And every music person will take their own journey to that ideal state.
Why do you think accessible courses like GRAMMY GO are necessary?
They connect students directly to the industry. It's one thing to learn in a classroom, but it's another to work with the candid guidance of professionals, get feedback from peers and understand how things actually operate.
In 2011, you received your first GRAMMY nomination. How did your career shift after the nod? More than a decade later, can you recall what doors opened after you heard the news?
The nomination was huge. It expanded my network, led to collaborations and validated years of hard work. But more than anything, it reinforced that the real goal isn't recognition — it's continuing to do the work at the highest level.