May I walk in beauty: Reflections on the Indigenous writings of Carolyn Kenny

Social justice and inequality

I first met Carolyn in person around the time that Voices: A World Forum was launched, at a concurrent session at the AMTA conference in Pasadena, California in 2001. As one of the first music therapists to focus extensively on culture and social justice, her efforts made me feel, for the first time, like there might be a place for me in the field as a brown music therapist. While Carolyn’s early writings expressed music as a universal rather than culturally specific medium, her views changed over time. As she embraced her own heritage, she began to see efforts towards social change and social justice as essential and integral to her mission. She became skeptical of universality and wrote about the marginalization of Indigenous peoples, historical oppression, and power inequities in the world today. “Because of my studies of the diversity of worldviews in diverse cultures, [ … ] I really question the concept of psychic unity and grand narrative, unless those grand narratives are extremely fluid” (2017, p. 918). However, she did not just talk about social justice, she lived it. She conducted several research studies with Aboriginal women in Canada and with the Maori in Aotearoa/New Zealand, shared ethnographic stories about her own family and Native American roots, and wrote about historical abuses and violence against First Nations people. She revamped research protocols for working with Indigenous populations, changed Aboriginal policy in Canada, and was instrumental in the inclusion of cultural genocide of First Nations people in Canadian higher education curricula.

She was a true leader, not afraid to challenge her colleagues about cultural appropriation and the true origins of ecological and community music therapy. “Much has been said about ecological music therapy. But very little of this work considers the forces of nature the way Yupiak scholar Oscar Kawagley intends. [ … ] Ecology, to the Native person is a grounded concept — one which invokes spirit and connection and Earth” (2016, p. 1011).

She also protested the dangers of positivist and oppressive research designs, pointing to studies that abused the needs of Indigenous people and were conducted without their consent.

As a result, Carolyn was committed to participatory action research and research methods that directly benefited communities. She advocated approaches that incorporated Indigenous values within the research methods, analyses, interpretation and dissemination processes themselves. Lastly, Carolyn’s activism was not limited to Indigenous causes, but to intersectional identities as well. For example, she felt that feminist theories disregarded Native women’s struggles.

Core Indigenous Values

About 10 years ago during my doctoral studies, Carolyn agreed to serve on my dissertation committee. As someone who never quite fit into traditional music therapy communities or models myself, I was drawn to Carolyn’s renegade ideas. She particularly inspired me as someone who was outside the box and as someone who “broke all the rules” (2017, p. 898). As a member of my committee, Carolyn pointed me to ground breaking literature and authors from interdisciplinary fields. A true mentor, she was always available and patiently listened to my frustrations and stories. She offered herself freely as a resource and sounding board. I found myself continually drawn to her presence and ideas in my struggles to integrate music therapy, spirit, culture, and social justice. In fact, it was only when I began studying shamanism directly that I finally began to understand the foundation of her work.

It is from this shamanic context that I wanted to share the powerful dreams that I had about Carolyn near the end of her life. In May 2017, I sent her drafts from a recent interview for an upcoming publication. She told me that she was ill, but that she “planned on recovering completely” and was determined to finish the edits and transcripts. However, in September 2017, I had a series of emotional dreams that she had died. In the dreams, she had an important message for me and her music therapy colleagues. “Don’t forget the transpersonal! That’s most important,” she said. She told me that she relied on us to continue her legacy, to help other music therapists understand the work she started in shamanism, the Field of Play (1989) and the Mythic Artery (1982). She said that we should keep redirecting the focus back to beauty, aesthetics, mystery, and spirit. Also, it was our responsibility, she said, to bring music therapists together. “Play music together. Listen, really listen,” she said. “And forgive who you can.” I was deeply moved. I emailed her about the dream, and she told me that she had just entered hospice. She thanked me for allowing her to be in my dream. Her health was declining quickly, and she was losing energy. I asked for her permission and worked with my spirit guides to help her through her transition. She passed away shortly afterwards.

Since that time, I have continued to deeply study her work and ideas. In reality, the ritual, beauty, nature, aesthetics and consciousness that Carolyn wrote about are not new. They have been practiced for centuries and form the foundation of Indigenous values and ways of life. However, in many academic, medical, and music therapy settings, these were, and in many ways still are, radical ideas. While Carolyn often used terms that were accessible and universal, at its core, her philosophy is shamanic and Indigenous. In fact, she saw the music therapist as a “modern-day shaman” (2016, p. 308), someone who “is required daily to walk between these two worlds, much as the ancient shaman, who was required to dance the great dance between spirit and matter” (2016, p. 371).