Response to the article titled Music Therapist's Therapeutic Relationship with Music

In the article titled Music Therapists Therapeutic Relationship with Music, Hyun Ju Chong reflects upon the process of becoming a music therapist, the role of personal musicality, and the importance of a private relationship with music. She shares her concerns from a teachers perspective. In my response, I would like to discuss some of her points from a students perspective, or one could say from the other side.

Hyun Ju Chong states that finding ones own musical self is a vital part of becoming a qualified music therapist and that it is very essential that students themselves know how to utilize music for their own needs. I completely agree. But how one accomplish these tasks while being trapped in the education system?

I would like to voice two issues: time and evaluation / grading.

Music therapy is a very wide discipline. To gather qualifications necessary to become ready to work in this field, one needs to have:

  • a strong basis of musical knowledge,
  • a variety of well-trained instrumental abilities
  • decent general humanistic knowledge,
  • a deep understanding of psychology and especially psychology of music,
  • excellent interpersonal and communication skills,
  • basic medical awareness,
  • self-awareness,
  • a strong variety of specific music therapy techniques, methods, and strategies,
  • awareness of formal issues such as current law regulations, and
  • an ability to understand and conduct basic research.

This is a lot. Obviously, out in the real world, each music therapist will probably choose some kind of specialization. No one is expected to be an expert in all of the above areas. However, during the studies no decisions are made yet, and, in order to make a wise satisfying decision later, students must learn and experience as much as possible. This is wonderful, but it takes so much time!

Finding ones musical self is important but it also needs hours of making music of different kinds, in various situations etc. To be able to focus on finding ones musical self, one has to have a mind free of worries, such as quizzes, juries, exams etc. When I have to choose between:

  • spending an evening of playing with friends (which makes me feel close to the musical child in me, gives me a good experience of active music making and how it influences me) and failing later on a test, and
  • studying instead of looking for the connection with my musicality,

what should I do? Both these elements are important. But in a short perspective, the second one would probably win more often. Is it worth loosing an opportunity for discovering the great resources of musicality or not? As a music therapy student, you usually just have to choose...

Or another example Im anxious before my exam. I did study, but I feel it was not enough. Should I spend the last hour trying to relax listening to my favorite music and breathing deeply, or should I concentrate on the material for the exam and study as hard as I can to the last minute? Relaxation may positively affect my performance, but maybe, gaining more knowledge will be more beneficial to my performance.

Grading brings similar problems into consideration. If you are graded on your performance, it naturally makes you try harder to accomplish tasks and fulfill requirements, which is not a free development of musicality. If you are used to paying attention to mistakes and errors it is hard to be self-confident and self-accepting.

I dont want to say that there is something wrong with grading and testing knowledge, or even criticism (if constructive). I do think that it is the best way to learn, improve, and develop. However, its hardly possible to do this and establish a natural, unbiased, and deep relationship with music at the same time. Maybe there will be more time when the studies are over. Or maybe music therapy students should have an additional month of vacation to spend it with music only.

Acknowledgement

I would like to express my thanks to Alex Petersen, who kindly helped me with my English problems...

By: 
Rachel Sammet Maurer

Reading Chong’s (2007) essay got me thinking about how I came to the decision to be a music therapist. After having gone through undergraduate music study, working professionally as a music therapist, and being over halfway through a graduate program in music therapy, it is easy to feel as if I have lost some of my passion for music somewhere in the middle of it all. Chong’s essay encouraged me to stop and think about why it is I do what I do and why I continue to push forward in this field. This involved reflecting on my changing relationship with music.

My relationship with music began at age seven when I started taking piano lessons. When old enough, I learned to play the flute in band class. In high school, I joined marching band, concert band, pep band, and jazz band, and I played for churches each week. I surrounded myself with music and felt my best when I was around music. I also spent a lot of what little free time I had in my room listening to music, trying to find the perfect song to fit whatever situation I was in at that moment. I analyzed lyrics and sometimes wrote lyrics of my own. When home alone, I also often improvised on my piano. Although I did not realize it, I was frequently using music therapeutically. This made me realize I needed to devote my life to a career in music, which led to my undergraduate training. Most of my musical experiences there revolved around playing classical piano music and accompanying soloists for performances. The focus was on perfection and less on the experience of making music, as is the likely focus of many undergraduate music programs. Because my schedule was hectic, I did not spend much time using music for enjoyment. While I loved those days, they were definitely trying, though I felt I was at my peak musical abilities. This is where I gained most of my intellectual relationship with music which Chong (2007) referred to, but my emotional relationship had greatly waned.

After completing my internship, I entered the working world and got married, and things changed even more drastically. For the next couple of years, I struggled with the fact that I no longer played with the same skill as before. I felt almost incompetent in my piano skills to the fact that they were not where they had been when I graduated. I was also not using music for personal satisfaction or self-care, and I was confused as to what role music was supposed to play in my life.

Over the last couple of years, I have finally had several eye-opening musical experiences that have helped me realize how important it is to allow myself the opportunity to enjoy music again. Approximately a year and a half ago, I took the Level 1 GIM course through my graduate program and realized that I had not used music for my own personal enjoyment, much less for self-care, in years. Last summer, I took an improvisation course with Dr. Alan Turry which allowed me to write a song for the first time in quite awhile, and I realized how much I missed that sort of self-exploration through music. This semester, my music psychotherapy class required me to complete self-exploration exercises. Though it often was difficult to “schedule” time this semester to do these exercises, they were certainly helpful, because it was a time in which I could use music and imagery, lyric analysis, songwriting, and improvisation without worrying about whether or not it would result in a good grade or be perfect. It was pure music-making for the sake of making music. This assignment forced me to take some time for myself to make music for my own benefit and to remember all the reasons I decided to become a music therapist in the first place. After such intense musical experiences, I feel I now have a renewed belief in the power of music.

I am finally beginning to reconnect with my love for music and music therapy and I feel much better about my relationship with music. I am much closer in finding the happy medium between my professional and personal life with music, though I know I will always struggle to maintain that balance. It is almost as if I simply needed to experience the power of music again to remind myself of how much of what I do with music is benefiting my clients. It is true that I do not use music in the same ways that I used to, but there is still a place for music in my personal life and in my personal work, but like all other relationships in life, my relationship with music will continue to evolve. I wholeheartedly agree with Chong (2007) in that music for personal use and self-exploration is important for any music therapy program; students and professionals alike need the constant reminders as to why they chose this work in order to avoid burnout and to maintain the quality of music therapy in their professional work. Though it is necessary for undergraduate programs to be focused on musical skill and one’s intellectual relationship with music, perhaps it would be beneficial to incorporate more opportunities for the development of one’s emotional connection to music. I believe that in order to be successful in providing quality music therapy to our clients, it is necessary that we have both a strong intellectual and emotional relationship with music therapy so that we do not forget the immense effect music has on our clients, as well as ourselves.

Reference

Chong, H. J. (2007). Music therapist's therapeutic relationship with music. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved March 3, 2010, from http://voices.no/?q=colchong240907

By: 
Shantaya Fonseca

According to Hyun Ju Chong’s column titled, Music Therapist’s Therapeutic Relationship with Music, it is highly important to explore and understand the relationship between music and the self. In association with Michelle Forinash’s article titled, “What ‘Makes’ a Music Therapist?, I also believe that an individual must “establish a new perspective towards his/her own music” or reestablish a perspective towards his/her own music in order to gain more insight as well as qualification to becoming a proficient music therapist (Chong, 2007).

This article helped me to rediscover the importance of my relationship with music. As a graduate student of the music therapy program, I understand that there are many competencies and expectations in this field of work. However, these competencies and expectations are for our benefits to grow and develop academically, clinically and musically as we approach the music therapy field.

Through our beginning journeys of academic and clinical courses along with our practicum and internships, we become so focused and engaged on learning as well as utilizing our knowledge and skills for the benefit of our clients. With the heavy caseload of academic and clinical assignments that we have been processing, it is easy to neglect our own relationship with music. We seem to forget about the very thing that brought us to this lovely field of work in the first place. Our love, appreciation and belief in music are what guided us here. As Borczon (2004) expressed, “If it wasn’t for the simple fact that music is what drew you into this glorious world of music therapy, you wouldn’t be reading this now, nor would you have a song in the back of your mind just waiting to come out” (p. 151). Our relationship to music is such an essential part of our personal and professional growth as music therapists. It is continuous.

Chong (2007) also introduced the importance of knowing “how to utilize music for our own needs.” We learn how to apply music to others in a therapeutic fashion, but do we know how to apply it to ourselves? Based on this article and responses to other similar articles, I have discovered that many students who enter into this program do not come in with a profound relationship to music. In some cases, there are students who have just the intellectual relationship with music, and there are others who have just the emotional relationship with music. Chong (2007) clearly explained that students need to have both the intellectual and emotional relationship with music. I believe this is the reason why many students may not know or understand how to utilize music for their own needs because they have not established the emotional and intellectual relationships with music which causes a lack in development of a perspective to his/her own music. When Chong (2007) proclaimed establishing a “new perspective,” I believe she speaks to the students who have a relationship with music, but who have a negative conscious or a lack of awareness on ways of using music to its fullest potential.

I can definitely testify to having a negative conscious about my abilities as a music therapist because of my fear and doubt about learning the guitar for clinical practice. My primary instrument is my voice, and the piano has always been my main instrument besides the few that I have learned to play in the past. I always loved making music with instruments despite the difference in its form. As I focused on my dedication to learning the guitar, it took me awhile to learn the different finger positions. I wanted to be able to use my voice, the piano and the guitar in music therapy sessions successfully. As I noticed a small improvement in my guitar playing compared to some of the other interns that were more advanced in their guitar playing, I started to feel that I wasn’t being effective or using music fully because of my inhibition to play the guitar. I let a challenge dominate the importance of my relationship with music. How can I eliminate my insecurity of learning the guitar? An uplifting message from Kate Geller, a certified music therapist, reminded me to “do whatever you loved about music that made you want to be a music therapist in the first place” (Borczon, 2004). It was three important things that I mentioned previously that caused me to realize that I need to get back in touch with music on a personal level in order to increase the insight for myself and the benefit for others. Once I reestablished my relationship and perspective toward my music, I became more free and willing for the love of music. Now, I am more engaged in playing the guitar, and learning a variety of guitar sheet music as well as composing my own music on the guitar.

In conclusion, I enjoyed this article (as well as its association to Michelle Forinash’s article) and the responses pertaining to it. It provided me with more insight and understanding of my relationship to music. Thank you!

References

Borczon, Ronald M. (2004). Music Therapy: A Fieldwork Primer. Gilsum, NH: Barcelona.

Chong, Hyun Ju (2007). Music Therapist's Therapeutic Relationship with Music. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved November 19, 2009, from http://voices.no/?q=colchong240907

By: 
Debra Jelinek Gombert

As I read Hyun Ju Chong’s (2007) column Music Therapist’s Therapeutic Relationship with Music, I could almost hear my mother saying "I told you so" from 600 miles away. Mom has always been the first one to ask "what about music for you?", and to remind me of the importance of playing my own music.

In response to Michele Forinash’s (2007) column What Makes A Music Therapist? Chong (2007) suggested that in addition to our academic and clinical training, two aspects are important to becoming a qualified music therapist: finding one’s own musical self and learning how to utilize music for one’s own needs. I agree with Chong that this discovery of one’s own resources and musical landscape is vital to becoming a music therapist, and that it should be started as an undergraduate. I would like to suggest, additionally, that the discovery of one’s musical self is an ongoing process, continued as a professional, and aided in large part by explorations of the use of music for one’s own emotional needs and well-being. As Chong seems to imply, part of what makes a music therapist is this engagement in the question of how music affects oneself, and a desire to extend similar experiences to others, even if those others differ greatly in terms of age, ability, or other factors.

Six years ago, during my internship, I started to articulate and discover pieces of my musical self in my work with a client, R. We connected deeply the first time I used the Israeli folk song, Artsa Alinu, as the melody for our "Hello Song". I hadn’t heard or played it for at least 20 years prior to playing the melody with R, but I had been told that R enjoyed "Jewish music", and in an early session, this song is what my soul offered up. Although speech was extremely difficult for R due to a degenerative disease, she laughed and smiled and even tried to sing during our opening song. It became what Boxill (1985) refers to as our "Contact Song" (p.75). It felt magical to me, like meeting a long-lost friend. I may never know if R had heard Artsa Alinu before, or if the Klezmer style of the music had meaning to her before our sessions, but I do know that I was comfortable with it, was able to improvise with it, and was able to be completely present with her when playing it. I believe that the essential element to R’s successful sessions was not that we knew songs in common; rather, R’s progress in therapy was due to our shared space in which we each communicated and explored our musical selves.

Nordoff and Robbins (1971) suggest that the awakening of a client’s "Music Child" (p. 1) can lead to increased self-realization and self-integration. I now realize that when I met with R in our music, I also explored my own "Music Child", discovering and integrating pieces of myself. I wish I could say that this started me on a path of constant discovery, but this process of self-expansion has not always been linear, and it is still unfolding.

Flute and piano are my main instruments of musical expression and important pieces of my musical self. Yet, for practical reasons, I began to use my voice and guitar skills more and more with clients. Voice and guitar became the tools of my trade, giving rise to a separation between my most intimate musical expression and the music I brought to work. As my music therapy practice grew, my connections to clients were not as strong or as frequent as I hoped they would be. I didn’t understand why not, but I wanted deeper connections.

Indeed, I entered music therapy because I found that I was much more interested in making connections and making a difference, than in having an audience. I eventually entered graduate school hoping to understand, or at least be able to create, magical connections like those I shared with R. It seems to me that such connections are germane to successful therapy. I would not have guessed that those deep connections with clients were related to knowledge of me and of my music. While in graduate school, I have found explorations of my own music to be more immediately impactful to me as a therapist than the academic and scholarly work I have undertaken.

As part of my graduate coursework, I took an Improvisation class with Alan Turry, and Level I GIM with Lisa Summer. I initially wondered when I might use the new techniques with my clients. In my work with a group of pre-school children in a school setting where I have to report on behavioral goals and no piano is to be found, how would I use GIM or encourage an extended piano improvisation? Another class offered an answer to that question. The major assignment in Peter Jampal’s Music Psychotherapy class, which I am currently taking, is to either improvise or explore our own music and imagery twice a week for 10 weeks, with the instruction to "go as deeply as possible". I am using tools learned in earlier classes, as well as my preferred instruments, for my own exploration and development. As a result, I have new pieces of my musical self to offer to my clients, even to those pre-school children with behavioral goals.

I have begun to improvise on flute in one setting where I lead songs on guitar with adults and children. Recently, after I played a piece on flute, an adult participant commented, "Wow. That took me to another place." She looked calmed and different after listening to the music. It had clearly been transcendent for her. By playing my flute, I offered a new dimension to the session. Could I do the same with guitar and voice? It had not occurred to me before that moment that it might be possible or desirable. With one participant’s response, I gained a new awareness of two aspects of my musical self. One is that I have something important to offer clients by using the flute: I can communicate things with the flute that I don’t know how to express on another instrument. The other is that I use music myself because of its transcendent qualities, and I want to bring those qualities to clients. I am just beginning to explore what these transcendent aspects mean to me and to my clients.

In what felt like an unrelated occurrence, one day recently I had a few minutes before seeing a new client. Without much thought, I picked up my guitar and improvised to center myself. The act itself was a breakthrough for me, both because I used the guitar, and because I chose to improvise to center myself. I started that session more open to the client and his music; and I felt more able to respond and relate to him than I often do in a first session. I wish I could report that I had created a transcendent experience for him, but it seems significant enough to say that I used my music on the guitar to shift something within myself.

These pieces of discovery seem neatly connected as I write about them, but as they were occurring they did not seem related at all. This ongoing process that I am pleased to find myself in usually feels random: explorations on flute and piano, elements of personal self-discovery, thoughts to try something new with a client, or an "unrelated" imagery session. Nevertheless, as a result of my personal improvisations, first on piano, then on flute, then in images, and then on guitar, I expanded not only my skills, but also the music and moods I can create and of which I am aware. In addition, the guitar and my voice are gradually becoming vehicles of musical expression instead of merely tools. In short, I have more to offer my clients.

I applaud Chong’s concern that this process start at the undergraduate level, and I hope that at least two elements of my ongoing process can be helpful to others. First, it is important for a therapist to use his or her primary instrument(s). For me, an essential catalyst in the discovery of new pieces of my music self was to use my main instruments in therapy; yet I hardly had time to do this in my undergraduate program, and rarely thought to do so as I entered my professional practice. I am able to achieve effects on the flute that are more musical and more profound than on other instruments. It is a powerful tool, and an indicator of what I am capable of as a therapist. Second, is the understanding that this is a process which builds upon itself. A new technique, style, or song is most useful to my clients after I have first made it my own at home. And then, from my sessions with a client, I take back home the music we created, my client’s responses, and my own ideas for expansion of my own and my client’s music.

During my two years as an undergraduate equivalency student I rarely had the time needed to engage in this process, and may not have realized its importance. As I started my music therapy practice, hopes of connecting to clients as I did with R began to fade. I am therefore grateful to be in a graduate program which encourages this process. My connections to clients are richer as a result. As I travel on this non-linear path, I am comforted by the knowledge that my mother will continue to ask "What about music for you?" My clients would thank Mom, if only they knew.

References

Boxill, E. (1985). Music therapy for the developmentally disabled. Austin, TX: Pro-ed.

Chong, H. J. (2007). Music therapist’s therapeutic relationship with music. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved March 20, 2009, from http://voices.no/?q=colchong240907

Forinash, M. (2007). What "makes" a music therapist?. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved March 20, 2009, from http://voices.no/?q=colforinash100907

Nordoff, P. & Robbins C. (1971). Creative music therapy: Individualized treatment for the handicapped child. New York: John Day.

By: 
Erin Murphy

Hyun Ju Chong's essay, "Music Therapist's Therapeutic Relationship with Music" struck a deep chord that inspired much thought and emotion regarding my relationship to music and the stimulation of this relationship through the Lesley curriculum. Being a current student, I am fully aware of the pressures surrounding the learning process of becoming therapist, including the time needed to develop my skills as a musician. I found the way Chong outlined the roles of teachers and students informative and very true, reflective of my personal self journey and the guiding supportive hands of the faculty.

One point stated within the essay was the central question of how to guide students to become "better music therapists in the limited time during the course of education/curriculum" (Chong, 2007). With such a plethora of information to learn as well as the imperative task to work on musicianship development, students certainly have their work cut out for them. It is then essential for programs to be focused on main issues surrounding the education of the budding music therapist.

The first key roadblock to overcome is the student's ability to "establish a new perspective toward music" (Chong, 2007). Correctly stated by Chong, every student comes in with preconceptions and their own "issues" surrounding music. Reflecting upon my own experience at my orientation for the program, each and every one of us could identify our personal issues and struggles relating to music-making (or music in general). Without overcoming this negative relationship, personal growth would be nearly impossible.

Part of this inhibited musical relationship is culturally enforced. Music is something that is listened to, but is left up to the professionals to participate in. It is culturally passive. Not only are we inhibited because of societal boundaries, but through lack of formal training and education. Anyone who studied music in depth has the professional perfectionist aura to live up to: Practice, practice, and more practice makes perfect. As the cultural perception, if it isn't perfect, you have no business making music. To have something so restricting engrained in your brain creates anxieties and limitations surrounding music making, and the individual potential.

The first layer to unwrap to successfully begin the journey to becoming a music therapist as stated within the essay is the "finding of one's own musical self" (Chong, 2007). Up to the point of entering the program to become a music therapist, many students have not "had enough chance to explore their own musical resource or space" (Chong, 2007). In many cases this is definitely true. However, I believe that is also important to note that our personal "musical resource" is not something that is just found; it is a life-long journey that will continue to evolve so long as one is creating and participating in music.

The second layer Chong states is the importance of the understanding of self-utilization. Fortunately, this principle is deeply embedded within the curriculum at Lesley, and we are constantly given opportunities to "contemplate what music is significant for [us]" (Chong, 2007). Whether this contemplation is through self reflection, class activities, or simple discussion, the understanding of the connection between music and wellness is not understated. Also, most likely many students have utilized some form of music therapeutically prior to entering the program. It is up to the student to understand this relationship to music both emotionally and intellectually.

In response to Ludwika Konieczna's argument from the student's perspective, I agree that the tasks that weigh on students are very taxing and, oftentimes, it seems impossible to take everything in. However, I believe that through the curriculum and personal time, the development of the musical self is inevitable. Also, it is vital to be aware of our struggles as a student, and actively work to understand why they exist and what we can do to grow and overcome. Every student has struggles, "some struggle with the academic studies, other struggle with learning a new instrument, and others struggle with relating clinically" (Forinash, 2007). It is important to remember that as a student, you are never alone. The student is surrounded by a nurturing community designed to help the student succeed. Once the student has acknowledged personal struggles, it is important to "pick your battles" regarding musical development and class obligations and understand the implications and consequences to each decision made.

In conclusion, the most important developmental step in order to become a music therapist is to solidify the personal relationship with music. Once this is achieved, the road to becoming a "better music therapist" will unfold organically throughout time spent in the university, and throughout the lifetime.

References

Chong, Hyun Ju (2007). Music Therapist's Therapeutic Relationship with Music. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved November 24, 108, from http://voices.no/columnist/colchong240907.php#discm

Forinash, Michele (2007). What "Makes" a Music Therapist?. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved November 24, 2008, from http://voices.no/?q=colforinash100907

Konieczna, Ludwika (2008). Response to the article titled Music Therapist's Therapeutic Relationship with Music [Contribution to Moderated Discussions] Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved from http://voices.no/?q=content/response-article-titled-music-therapists-therapeutic-relationship-music