How does music therapy engage diversity? Helen Oosthuzien wrote a wonderful article amplifying the demands and trials when using music therapy to cross cultural, racial, and social borders. Her decisions to work with another culture challenged her position as a music therapist. She reached the point of helplessness, engaging a group of clients that were not her ethnicity, religion, sex, and did not even speak the same language. How does a music therapist in this situation still approach relationship-building with as much confidence as a music therapist who is in a very comfortable environment? A prayer of St. Francis of Assisi suggests seeking first to understand, then to be understood.
It seemed Oosthuzien had no other option than seeking first to understand. Ten weeks of music therapy were given to a group of clients to work off juvenile-detention time. For six weeks, the sessions were client-dominated. The MT could only speak through a translator, but for the most part received no opportunity to take control of the session. It was only on week seven where the voice of the music therapist was finally heard through the piano. Was it cultural differences or the uncomfortable environment that pushed Oosthuzien into a corner for 6 weeks while the clients took off with the session? It’s unsure. However, when the right time came for Oosthuzien’s to speak, her voice was heard. Her voice was listened to, respected even. Through piano, she was able to integrate her voice into the session. After several failed attempts, her voice finally crossed the divide between cultures. What built the bridge? Ultimately, music therapists are trained to lay the foundations and assist in the structure. But when our tools seem useless and we’re filled with uncertainty, we trust that consistent music making will eventually build the bridge.
How does anyone engage diversity? How can I appreciate the many cultures around me if I’m always boxing myself into comfortable environments? I can say that while living on a college campus, I’ve pushed open the doors of diversity, which lead outside my comfort zone and straight into rewarding experiences. My prime example: I’ve always wanted to join a black gospel choir, so a few months ago, I did. I’m a 6’1 Caucasian male with a big smile, gangly arms, and absolutely no coordination to sing and dance at the same time. Needless to say, I stick out like a sore thumb.
It’s been a few months since I began the choir. A typical night will consist of hugs and warm welcomes, reading from Scripture and worship, an hour of rehearsing songs for upcoming concerts, and then after rehearsal I give out prophetic words the Lord gave me during worship. Much to my surprise, however, I’ve yet to cultivate anything other than superficial relationships. I believe the result of this is not so much the result of a cultural divide or a lack of receptiveness, as much as it is the lack of time spent together as a group. A community is hard to build when you only meet once a week with a group.
There are some nights I become aware of loneliness arising within me, possibly because of the lack of out-reach within the community. It seems that there are many who like to receive in the choir, but few givers. When I first came to this revelation, I asked “Should I sit with my loneliness and wait for someone to speak to me, or find someone who is lonely and sit by them?” It was then that an older woman in the choir stood out in my mind. Most nights, she sits by herself, singing at a quiet dynamic and staring blankly at the wall. Upon further inspection, I learned that she had an intellectual disability. Of course my training as a music therapist has prepared me to see her as a great treasure. Since that specific night, I’ve sat beside her, sometimes conversing, sometimes enjoying the comfort of her presence without many words. Loneliness is a forgotten friend when she’s around.
In what other ways has music therapy trained music therapists to approach difficult or unfamiliar situations? In one particular college experience, I found myself, invited to the campus Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender (LGBT) annual “coming-out” event by a close friend. The question I had to ask myself was simple, should I stay or go? How can this experience mold as a future therapist? Understanding my beliefs and values, can I agree to disagree with a gay lifestyle and still support a close friend who wants to a share a meaningful experience with me? Ultimately, yes. I can agree to disagree and still respect my friend who feels as if “coming-out” will benefit them. I ended up going with my friend not because of obligation, but because I knew the value of seizing the opportunity to understand. Even today, I seek to be challenged in a new way. It might lead to discomforting places, but it can lead to a place of appreciation. Isn’t life like a piece of music that requires us to improvise? Aren’t many of our decisions a result of letting the music take its course? Like Oosthuzien implies throughout her article, the music of diversity is sweet, surprising, and sometimes complicated. But ultimately, it’s rewarding if you listen closely and seek to understand it.