Finding Your Way

This weekend I have been contemplating my choice of population. I have been remembering the path that I took during my 19 years of music therapy practice to the people that I serve.

I was always a person who people were drawn to. I spent lots of time with my mother when I was little in her role as an Occupational Therapist. I spent time in nursing homes, in schools for children with physical disabilities, and around folks with exceptionalities. Children with developmental disabilities would find me in large crowds of people and would follow me around. I was destined to be a therapist, right?

Now, as I was growing up, I knew I would be in a helping profession. I enjoyed being a Sunday School teacher, a Girl Scout, a camp counselor, a babysitter, a teacher's aide, you name it. If it involved children or volunteering to be around people, I was there. I met kids in the special education classes in my junior high, I played with a little boy with Down Syndrome at a pool party, and one of my best friends growing up had what I now suspect was Aspergers.

With a mother who was in the forefront of my development who was also an OT, I knew that there were therapy professions out there, but I did not want to be the same as my mom. OT was an idea, but just did not zing for me the same way that Music Therapy did. (At another time, I will regale you with my discovery of music therapy story...I think it's a good one ;-).) I entered my university program knowing that I would be a music therapist that worked with persons with autism.

Fast forward three months, and I was in my first music therapy experience as an observer. Three of us newbies were observing the MT supervisor and three MT students lead sessions with 12 clients from a group home company. The first week, I entered the room with the other two observers, and the female clients entered. They walked up to me and introduced themselves. They did not interact with any of the other therapists in the room. I didn't think much about it. The male clients did the same thing. They all entered the room and walked up to me, introducing themselves and shaking my hand.

The MT asked us all to sit in a circle for the opening. We stated what we liked to do. The responses were pretty typical. "I like chocolate." "I like making friends." This continued until we got to the man sitting immediately to my left. He mumbled, "I like her." The therapist asked him to repeat what he had said, and he pointed to me and said, "I like THAT woman RIGHT THERE!" The therapist, a bit in shock, mumbled something about liking to make new friends and moved on.


When it was time to dance, the man walked right up to me and grabbed my hand. For the rest of the evening, he was my shadow. That was fine with me, but I felt that the attention was a bit weird.


The next week, we were again sitting in the circle, waiting for the men's group to arrive. We heard their footsteps on the ground floor above us, and then we heard something else. All of a sudden, there was a voice from above yelling, "Here I come, MJ-Baby. I love you, Baby. Oh, Baby, Baby. Here I come, MJ!" This was definitely directed toward me. I panicked. The therapist intervened and intercepted him before he got to me.


For the rest of the semester, I was the target of this gentleman's amorous attentions. I felt a bit stalked and decided that I would never be able to work with people with developmental disabilities because of the discomfort that I felt when he made it obvious that he REALLY liked me. He was the star of the performance that we had at the end of the semester, singing and playing the guitar to Nine to Five.



I found out a couple of years after my initial experience that the young man who had very verbally expressed his love for me had never spoken in music therapy previously, much less performed entire songs.


I did eventually figure out that the response that he had to me was not a bad thing, and it did not keep me from pursuing my career. I have worked with persons with developmental disabilities of all ages, shapes, sizes, and levels of intervention and will continue to do so for as long as I can. Thank goodness I found my path.


Finding the place you need to be is not always easy. Often, there are detours, speed limits, roadblocks, or roadside attractions that demand attention. I can only say that, if you keep moving forward, you will find your destination. You can also always turn around and go back to someplace familiar. Just keep moving...