Music Trauma

I want to tell you a story. This is the story of a young child, and a single event that could have dramatically altered the entire world.

This child learned a song at summer camp. It was an adaptation of "Singing in the Rain.”

I'm singing in the rain

Just singing in the rain

What a glorious feeling

I'm teeter tottin', teeter tottin'

Teeter ta, ta, woo!

Teeter tottin', teeter tottin'

Teeter ta, ta, woo!

A joyful song!

One day, this child decided to take an umbrella and splash through some puddles when it was raining. Naturally, the song followed, and the child was happily singing and dancing in the rain.

Now a teenage boy, a neighbor, had been watching the child sing and dance, and when the child felt the watching eyes and looked up at the teen, the teen started laughing hysterically.

Feeling embarrassed and sad, the child, now in tears, stopped singing and went home.

The story could have ended there.

For so many people I've talked with, the story does end there. One bad experience making music can ruin someone for life.

I recall one woman I met through my first music therapy job. She was a new resident in the facility I worked for and I was getting to know her.

She told me the kinds of music she liked, and before playing and singing some of her favorites, I invited her to sing along if she was so inspired.

Her face became serious and it felt like she put up a wall. She said, "Oh, no. I don't sing." Curious, I asked "why not?" She replied, "When I was a little girl, one day I was singing in church, and when we finished, someone turned around and said to me, 'You really shouldn't do that.'"

I was devastated.

This woman, in her early seventies, had abandoned a lifetime of singing because one judgmental person opened their inconsiderate mouth.
I think I said in my shock something like "you're welcome to sing with me...I don't judge." I can't recall a single time when I ever saw that woman sing, or move to music, or tap her toes.

Tragic.

I realize some of you may think I'm overstating things by referring to "music" and "trauma" in the same breath, but hear me out.

I know bad things happen to people. I've worked with Veterans who've been dealing with PTSD since before it was called PTSD...for longer than I've been alive. That kind of trauma (thanks to our Veterans) is something most of us will never know.

Here's why music trauma needs to be talked about. Human brains are hard wired for music. We perceive it, we understand it, we create it. All of us. We've all heard children taunting each other with singing "na, na, na, na, boo, boo!" The syllables may vary, but children all over the world can do that. Where do they learn it? Here's the kicker...it's innate intelligence! We are born knowing how to sing that children's taunt! These abilities to understand and create music? There is absolutely NO biological reason for it! This thing that humans can do has nothing to do with sustaining our bodily existence! Yet we can all do it! But why?!

Okay, I feel a little bit like an episode of Ancient Aliens here, because I'm teasing you with a question that I don't have a good answer for, so...sorry about that.

What I do know is that music (and rhythm) connects all people in a way nothing else can. There is nothing more human than music and rhythm.

This is why I become enraged when I hear stories like little girls being told in church they shouldn't sing.

There are few things more invalidating and dehumanizing than one person standing in judgement of another's quality of expressing that most human of things...music. (I realize this statement is pretty high up the pyramid of Maslow's hierarchy, but we’re not meant to live at the bottom of the pyramid!).

How arrogant to think one can and should stand in judgment of someone's birthright!

As a music therapist, I know how healing music can be. I also know how insecure many people are about their own ability to create music and live as musical beings.

I'm of two minds though. I'm not only a music therapist, but I'm also a music educator. I can't turn off either one of these aspects of me, but I realized after meeting the woman I described above what an immense responsibility I have.

Especially when people discover I am a music professional, it seems my words carry more weight.

A misspoken word from somebody like me could create another story like the little girl who was told she shouldn't sing in church.

I've learned to compartmentalize my roles. Most often I approach the world as a music therapist. You see, music therapy is a process oriented experience, not a product oriented experience. This means when I approach the world as a music therapist, when people are singing while walking down the street, or tapping along to music, the music in the environment or just in their head, I'm happy. I don't care if the person is singing off key or their rhythm is not precise...I'm happy they are engaged in expressing their musicality! They are claiming their birthright and I think that is beautiful!

I want to share some words others have written that capture the essence of how I now approach music making.

The musician Michelle Shocked said:

Music is too important and too revolutionary to be left in the hands of professionals.

Just let that sink in.

One of my teachers and mentors, Christine Stevens

You Are Musical!

Being musical does not have to be difficult.

The ability to be musical comes from within.

You don't have to play an instrument to be musical.

You already ARE an instrument.

You are a naturally born musical being.

As a child, you made up songs.

You explored the world of sound and rhythm daily.

There is musical spirit waiting to be rediscovered in you.

Musical expression is everyone's birthright.

Music is not reserved for concert halls.

It can be an everyday event in everyday places.

Your performance in the shower or car is what matters most.

Making music is within your grasp.

It's about living a creative and spirited life.

It's about the choice to awaken your musical spirit and create harmony in your life.

This is for everyone who was ever told they were not musical,

Not good enough,

Silenced and excluded from music-making,

Yet still yearning for musical expression.

Unlock your musical spirit,

Quench the longing to bring music into your life,

Create harmony in your life and reconnect with the music that allows your soul to sing.

Christine Stevens

Upbeat Drum Circles

(reprinted with permission)

Words like these, stories like the little girl singing in church; these have shaped my life. I encourage music making everywhere I go.

Music is an every day occurrence!

When I hear someone singing quietly to themselves, I enthusiastically encourage them to not be shy and to sing it out, then express gratitude to them for sharing it. I also encourage others because I was that little boy singing a camp song joyfully while puddle splashing in the rain.

I can’t imagine how my life would look now if I wasn’t here to share music making and healing through music with the world.

I'm not exactly sure how I recovered from that music trauma, but I did.

Now I am here encouraging as much music making as possible.

Yes, the concert hall performances are important, but so are the times you sing in the shower, the times you sing with small children, the times you're brave enough to learn an instrument because you've always been curious.

Music is a part of humanity where we may feel vulnerable. When we feel vulnerable, we are much more open to trauma, but we are also much more open to our authentic selves.

When we relate to others in our authenticity...when we relate to ourselves in this way, the essence of our humanity shows through. The essence of our sameness shows through. Our sameness with every other person alive in this world.

When we are in Harmony with everyone in the world, there will be no more conflict, no separation (the biggest lie of all), and as John Lennon said, "the world will live as one."

Music trauma is not just about a little boy singing in the rain, or a little girl singing in church...it's about everyone being who they are meant to be, without shame, without reservations.

It's about all of us.

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