Music therapists spend a lot of their time with people who are not exhibiting peak levels of human functioning. If you see a hospice patient who is experiencing tremendous physical pain, you see some of that person's "rough edges." If you see a client who has difficulty controlling his or her bowel movements, those are more rough edges. A child who is so frustrated at his or her communication difficulties that tantrums and violence ensue - that is also certainly a rough edge of the range of human possibility.
Music therapists see people at some of the most raw and vulnerable points in their lives, when things are the roughest. We see precious pre-term infants, struggling for a chance to live, and equally precious human beings on the other end of the lifespan who are actively dying.We are called in to assist with nearly every other rough patch of life in between.
The therapeutic relationship takes an enormous amount of trust on the part of the people we assist. Our clients must trust us enough with all of their vulnerabilities to allow us in to help. Music therapists are blessed enough to be invited in to those most vulnerable moments of human existence and to make those moments feel a little safer, a little smoother.
In fact, one of my favorite things about music therapists is our ability to see so much more than our client's rough edges. We see beyond - to potential, to creative expression, to personal growth in the face of tremendous challenges. When we look at a client, we assess and acknowledge their "rough spots" and all the areas that need improving, but we also focus so much of our energy on what each client can do.
Music is so very adaptable on so many levels. Everyone can engage in music in some way, no matter how small or how passively. How humbling. How utterly amazing.
You must be a special kind of person to expose oneself to all the rough edges of humanity, to throw oneself into the work of smoothing those edges. It takes a special kind of person to clearly see a person's limitations and to also see far, far beyond them.
It takes a music therapist.
So on this gorgeous Friday afternoon, I am thankful for all the music therapists and other helping professionals the world over who go about this work on a daily basis. May you find that you are able to see the good and the potential in every client you meet.
Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts
Friday, November 9, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Sticks and Stones: Breaking the "Handicapped" Association
As small children, before we learn basic language skills, we learn to identify certain words with pictures and logos. Many of us can identify the McDonald's logo before we can print our first names. Some of us saw the "Coca-Cola" or "Sprite" logos and associated them with a general word like "soda" or "pop." All in all, these word-picture associations are powerful and deeply rooted in our earliest memories.
And that's usually not a huge problem. Quickly associating information with a basic picture is an important skill to help us navigate our world on a daily basis. The issue appears when we have made an association that can be harmful to others.
As a child, I learned that the white individual in a wheelchair on a blue field meant "handicapped." For years, I never questioned that association. It was everywhere - handicapped parking, the handicapped entrance, handicapped license plates.
It wasn't until I came to college as a music therapy major that I learned about Person-First Language and how important it is to speak about people first and their characteristics second. (For an excellent overview of PFL please see http://www.disabilityisnatural.com/images/PDF/pfl-sh09.pdf.)
Obviously, as soon as I learned about the importance of speaking about people first and disabilities second, I made a resolve to eliminate the word "handicapped" from my vocabulary and make an effort to educate those around me. The problem for me comes from the blue and white wheelchair logo. It is so deeply engrained in my memory with the word "handicapped" that every time I see a license plate in traffic with that logo, my brain automatically retrieves that word. Each time this happens, I practice retraining myself to think or say aloud, "That symbol simply refers to an individual with a disability, not a disabled or handicapped person. They are a person first and foremost."
Who knows how long it will take me to break this automatic association formed in childhood? The point is, I am going to keep trying until I accomplish it, because as a future therapist, I choose to speak, think, and act respectfully towards individuals with disabilities.
And that's usually not a huge problem. Quickly associating information with a basic picture is an important skill to help us navigate our world on a daily basis. The issue appears when we have made an association that can be harmful to others.
As a child, I learned that the white individual in a wheelchair on a blue field meant "handicapped." For years, I never questioned that association. It was everywhere - handicapped parking, the handicapped entrance, handicapped license plates.
It wasn't until I came to college as a music therapy major that I learned about Person-First Language and how important it is to speak about people first and their characteristics second. (For an excellent overview of PFL please see http://www.disabilityisnatural.com/images/PDF/pfl-sh09.pdf.)
Obviously, as soon as I learned about the importance of speaking about people first and disabilities second, I made a resolve to eliminate the word "handicapped" from my vocabulary and make an effort to educate those around me. The problem for me comes from the blue and white wheelchair logo. It is so deeply engrained in my memory with the word "handicapped" that every time I see a license plate in traffic with that logo, my brain automatically retrieves that word. Each time this happens, I practice retraining myself to think or say aloud, "That symbol simply refers to an individual with a disability, not a disabled or handicapped person. They are a person first and foremost."
Who knows how long it will take me to break this automatic association formed in childhood? The point is, I am going to keep trying until I accomplish it, because as a future therapist, I choose to speak, think, and act respectfully towards individuals with disabilities.
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