Voices ResourcesA website for the worldwide community around the journal Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy

Here is a young man I will call Thabiso. He appears isolated – he is the only who has arrived at our introduction to the young offenders music therapy group unaccompanied by a caregiver. He makes little eye contact. He makes no attempt to connect with other group members. Information gathered from his file suggests he was once well cared for, he received some good education, he had a family with means to provide for him. Since his mother passed away, however, he has been sent to live with relatives. Relatives who appear to have made little attempt to get him into school again, who have so many others to care for they don’t seem to have the time to participate in his life.

Here is the music therapy profession in South Africa. In 2004, Pavlicevic put out a call for African voices in the music therapy world, saying, "Music therapy in Africa risks remaining in its own enclave, separate from other enclaves in other parts of the world. What a loss for the profession both in and out of Africa!" Yet music therapy voices in Africa still remain quieter than most. In South Africa, music therapists have received thorough training - we were immersed in theory, received intensive supervision and were supported by peers. With much eagerness, groups of students complete their degrees and disperse to find their own unique contexts for work, hoping to offer something of value (Oosthuizen, 2007). We focus on promoting our new vocation, pushing hard to get funding and some support, leading the way as we explore work in new contexts (Dos Santos, 2005). We do this amongst those who may not understand and may not even care what we do. In this process, many of us have become isolated from the global music therapy community and even from one another. Our professional organisation has struggled to draw music therapists together to share our stories and only a few of us have publicly presented or published work other than for promotional purposes. Our story has some interesting parallels with Thabiso’s.

An Unsure Beginning

Thabiso arrives late for our first session. He still makes little eye contact with anyone. He frowns when trying to beat the drum and his unsteady beats keep changing. I notice how some group members have quickly picked up rhythms whilst others, like Thabiso, are struggling. I note this to the group and query whether sometimes when our music doesn’t fit in with others we may feel as if we don’t fit in ourselves? Thabiso looks up. “Yes,” he says, surprising everyone. “I don’t fit in here with this…group, this…music, drums, stuff.”

In South Africa, music therapy is often the newcomer to a context with already set norms, roles and structures. There’s no place set out for us. And so, our work begins unsteadily- punctuated with questions. How do we fit in (if at all)? How do we adapt? How do we negotiate what we have to offer with our context (Dos Santos, 2007)?

Becoming Thabiso, Becoming Music Therapy

It soon becomes clear that Thabiso has something to offer this music therapy group. He begins arriving for sessions on time. He starts to contribute. At first he imitates what others say and do. At times his comments or rhythmic ideas are mocked through flickers of smiles and meaningful looks between others. But his contributions are included in group products, in reflections, in the process.

The suggestion by another group member that we create a rap together energises and excites Thabiso. He is now leaning forward on the edge of his chair, making eye contact with everyone else, offering stronger and stronger opinions, ideas and suggestions. He critiques the music, the rhythm and joins in to some freestyle rapping with short phrases. His whole body moves with the music. He has found where he can be himself entirely and fit with the group.

Music therapy in South Africa may at times appear quiet. Due to a struggle to make regular contact with so many colleagues there are moments when I am tempted to consider whether our profession is still surviving here. Yet, when opportunities have arisen for conversations, I have gathered fragments of important and valuable stories that are emerging. These are stories of music therapy being formed and reformed in some of the most exciting contexts - a reminder of just how powerful our therapeutic stance and skills are, right here, now, in South Africa. The recently published book, Taking Music Seriously: Stories from South African Music Therapy (Pavlicevic, Dos Santos & Oosthuizen, 2010) offers a taste of some of these stories – where, through music, residents with cerebral palsy as well as their caregivers find their voices and are able to come to know one another in new ways, where young children disfigured from burn wounds in a paediatric hospital are able to recover some of their sense of self through hearing the music they can make, and where stressed university employees can rediscover their creativity and enjoy one another through creating a song together . As music therapists in South Africa have begun to contribute to a variety of contexts, we are at times marginalised as superfluous extras, at times we are still misunderstood (Fourie, 2009). We’ve had to learn to speak about our work in different ways – one language for educators and another for medical practitioners, one for social workers and another for clients, one for townships and another for wealthy suburbs. Some have adapted our work, focusing on training others to use music therapy skills or working with large groups, working with limited resources or with diverse groups, using music therapy techniques in education and performance. We are becoming ourselves in ways that are sensitive to and fit within each unique context in which we are working.

Struggling for a Voice

Another group member recites a verse he has composed himself for the rap. Thabiso moves impatiently on his seat. I sense he wants to contribute too. But when asked he is quiet, he pulls away. Perhaps he is thinking about how he cannot write like the others, he doesn’t talk like the others, he can’t put together a poetic rap. He starts to recite a rap by the South African Hip Hop artist, Zuluboy. It’s about crimes committed and the remorse felt afterwards – words with close parallels to Thabiso’s story, but not his own. Thabiso says he can never rap as well as Zuluboy. We discuss just changing a few of Zuluboy’s words to tell Thabiso’s story. He sits, “um, nah, um….ya, this is difficult…”. “Nah, it doesn’t work.”

Music therapists in South Africa have stories to tell. And yet a questionnaire I sent to all music therapists in South Africa in 2011 to determine how we are doing as clinicians and professionals revealed that many of us lack the confidence to present or publish work. Some remember with trepidation the process of completing their masters’ dissertations, some suggest they don’t have anything to offer, some are unsure how or where to contribute. Some don’t feel sure their work would be of a high enough academic standard. We cannot find our voices.

Space for a Story to Emerge

I am disappointed when, by our last group session, Thabiso has not included a rap verse of his own in the group’s final product. The time comes for our final performance of the rap to the clinic staff and some parents. We prepare our stage and I indicate that the group can start. But they don’t. They huddle together talking. We all wait. In their time, the group begins the beat. There’s the first verse, well rehearsed and clear, then the freestyle. Suddenly, group members gesture to each other and Thabiso stands up, a small notepad in his hands. The background beat becomes quiet as he slowly opens the notepad, quite importantly, to reveal his own neat hand-writing (hours of work I know, given his struggle to write). His verse. His rap. His story. He looks at me once, then begins:

I am a person I want to be

But never tried to believe it

My soul will never be seen

Like the waves in the sea

I may look good but I am not

But there is a good spot in my heart

…

Stand up and shout

You will be known about

That’s how I am

As I am leaving after the performance Thabiso runs out to me. Ah, I think. I need to affirm this young man! But no, Thabiso is not looking for affirmation – it’s more important than that. Thabiso wants to know when he can get his video copy of the rap. Thabiso has used this music therapy space to tell his story, to record his thoughts and hopes. Through this video, Thabiso as he is in this moment (and the valuable reflections he has made) will be known about - by himself and by others.

Whilst some South African music therapists have experienced the insights, encouragement and possibilities that evolve from publishing or presenting our work, many stories still await to be told. Currently we are in the process of once more reviving our professional organisation – The Association for Professional Music therapists in South Africa (APMTSA) as well as the South African National Arts Therapies Organisation (SANATO). One of the primary goals for these organisations will be to draw together arts therapists so that we are able to support each other and hold one another accountable, to offer space where stories can be shared and witnessed, presented and published and to stand together to become a stronger voice in Africa.

Thank you, Thabiso, for your encouraging message. I hope that we as music therapists can learn from you and share more of our own stories so that music therapy in South Africa (and anywhere else where it may be more silent than it should be) can stand up and shout and become known about!

References

Dos Santos, A. (2005). Intentional Leadership: Growth, Empowerment and High-Heeled Shoes. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved October 1, 2012, from http://www.voices.no/?q=fortnightly-columns/2005-intentional-leadership-...

Dos Santos, A. (2007). Asking questions in Africa. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved October 1, 2012, from http://www.voices.no/?q=colsantos221007

Fourie, L. (2009). Music Therapy in Tshwane, South Africa: Music Therapists’ and Other Professionals’ Perceptions. Unpublished master’s thesis. Pretoria: University of Pretoria.

Oosthuizen, H. (2007). Drumming in the Rain: An Experience of the First Year of Music Therapy. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved October 1, 2012, from http://www.voices.no/?q=coloosthuizen010107

Pavlicevic, M. (2004). Calling African Voices. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved October 1, 2012, from http://www.voices.no/?q=fortnightly-columns/2004-calling-african-voices

How to cite this page

Oosthuizen, Helen (2012). Music Therapy South Africa – You will be Known About. Voices Resources. Retrieved January 08, 2015, from http://testvoices.uib.no/community/?q=fortnightly-columns/2012-music-therapy-south-africa-you-will-be-known-about