It's pitch black outside excluding millions of twinkling stars, the Northern Lights dancing above the distant horizon, and a blur of passing trees and snow drifts dimly lit by the snowmobile headlight. I'm being shuttled on a two man snowmobile, in -30 degree Celsius weather, to a remote drug & alcohol rehabilitation wilderness program, three hours outside a small northern Yukon community. Camp is accessible by snow machine or dog team. Romantic as the dogsled ride sounded, I opted for motorized transportation. I'm scheduled to conduct an eight-hour intensive music therapy group tomorrow with the handful of participants in the program. My trusty campfire guitar and a hotchpotch of hand drums and percussion instruments are strapped with bungee chords inside a canvas tarp to a toboggan, hauled behind us. In preparation for this trip, I have been told very little except to come with lots of ideas and be prepared to improvise the programming.
As we turn a sharp corner I hear the toboggan bump loudly behind us. I turn to examine for damage and see that my gear is fine. We hit another corner and I bump into the driver who is nonchalantly barrelling at warp speed along this nauseatingly rough and narrow winter path. I wonder what time it is - last I looked it was 9:30 pm. But at that point I still had feeling in my fingers. I'm too afraid to check my wristwatch again, even though it's right there under my glove. I would need my other hand to pull down the mitten far enough to see the time. Both hands off the handles would leave me defenceless to the centrifugal force on the next corner. My incessant thoughts wander, conjuring up dreadful images of my potential demise -opportunistic, ravenous wolves looming beyond the headlight waiting for some fresh meat to fall off. I hazard a guess that it's nearing midnight, from the general lack of feeling in my body. My fingers can't move from the hours of exposure to sub-arctic temperatures. My body is numb from the constant vibration of the snowmobile. We must be close. I can make it. Just hold on. Somehow through the chattering of teeth, nausea, and numbness, I find it in me to smile and think to myself, "I wonder how many music therapists have done anything like this for a contract?"
The above story is not fictitious; it is my honest recollection of a recent expedition as a music therapist.
The Yukon Territory can be found in the upper northwest corner of Canada. It is often distinguished by its vast open areas of mountains, streams, forests, lakes and an abundance of wildlife. In contrast, Yukon civilization is a sparse scattering of small communities in this virtually untouched and pristine landscape. Human inhabitation of the area emerged as a series of cultural waves. Explorers and settlers arrived in this Frontier Land seeing the potential it had to offer them. The first wave of people arrived in the region, between 10,000-20,000 years ago. They crossed a 'land bridge' known as Beringia, which is currently the North Pacific area separating Siberia and Alaska. During the last ice age sea levels dropped substantially, which allowed safe passage for wildlife and human hunters who followed the food over. Descendants of this first wave still reside in the Yukon today, making up about ¼ of the current territorial population. They are often referred to as First Nations people.
The next few waves of immigrants arrived several thousand years later, beginning about mid-18th century, with the arrival of European explorers. In the early 19th century a southern Canadian trading company started setting up a wave of outposts in the north. With their arrival a conflict ensued between the First Nations people regarding rights over trading. In the mid-19th century, missionary schools arrived, bringing with it more conflict between newcomers and the First Nations. Next up, nearing the 20th century, gold was discovered, bringing with it a wave of tens of thousands of hopeful gold-seekers. In less than five years the majority of gold was gone; only a handful of diehard miners stayed on to call the Yukon home permanently. The last large wave to hit the Yukon occurred in the latter part of World War II, when the US army built a highway through the Yukon to bring war supplies to Alaska. As before, after the war was over some stayed but most left. Since the 1950's Whitehorse has steadily grown in population. Currently there is around 33,000 year round Yukon residents.
Music therapy surged into the Yukon quite recently - in 2004 - a much smaller wave in comparison. With only two practicing therapists advocating the benefits of music therapy, the small wave of complimentary treatment has made itself known in the north, in a matter of only a few years. There are currently some music therapy services available for Yukon children in their preschool years (under 5), through the only local child development centre. Service continues to be available for some children entering the school system up until graduation (aged 6-18). Some private therapy and consultation is also offered.
Undoubtedly, the greatest challenge to face as a music therapist practicing in the north is to program for First Nations people, particularly with regards to the devastating multigenerational effects of a cultural assimilation. Of recent, First Nations people are speaking up, condemning acts of, and motivations behind, missionary schooling. First Nations language, traditions and values were all condemned and forbidden through this time. Much was lost and not passed on in these years. Worse yet, are the negative cyclical familial patterns that perseverate through each generation. It is estimated that it will require at least 7 generations for the First Nations people to heal from the damage of losing their culture. Just some of the effects of their loss of culture, to name a few, include addictions to alcohol, Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD), substance abuse, family communication dysfunction, spousal abuse, institutional dependency, child neglect and abuse & chronic depression.
In light of the magnitude and extent to which the negative effects that cultural assimilation have generated, considerable effort is being put into rectifying past mistakes. Among many conventional methods, music therapy has been a successful complimentary process to help with the healing of the First Nations people. Music therapists have been involved at many levels in helping to break generational cycles of disconnect within a culture. Therapists have worked with the very young as well as side by side with native elders (who still teach indigenous healing practices and values), and occasionally they even trek into the wilderness to First Nations treatment camps in sub-arctic temperatures!
Sutton, David (2007). Music Therapy in Northern Canada. Voices Resources. Retrieved January 15, 2015, from http://testvoices.uib.no/community/?q=country-of-the-month/2007-music-therapy-northern-canada
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