Saying Congratulations, Goodbye, and Get Out!
Today is the day that intern #22 graduates from her internship.
She has completed her 1020 hours of clinical training, has learned everything I can teach her at this point, and is on her way out into the big, wide world.
I love being an internship director, but this is one of the most difficult parts of the job. It's hard to watch someone move on, but it is an essential part of the job of supervisor - recognizing when a person is no longer a learner but is now ready to move out into the world, and then letting them go into that world. It is time. #22 is ready to go out there and be "the" music therapist rather than the "music therapy intern."
You would think, having done this 21 times before, that this would have become an easy part of being a supervisor. Well, you'd be wrong.
I choose my interns carefully. I spend lots of time looking at the application and the reference letters that are sent. Once I feel comfortable with an applicant on paper, I require an 8-hour on-site interview to see if I can handle being with this person for a period of seven months. I rarely ask anyone to come up for an interview if I'm concerned about their application. It's not fair to expect someone to pay money to come to my area without the expectation that I will seriously consider them for the internship.
That is often the start of our relationship - that 8-hour interview/audition. I watch everything and anything that happens. How does an applicant react when one of my students screams? How does an applicant interact with my students when he or she is leading a group? How does that same applicant interact with my students when he or she isn't leading a group? Can the applicant lead a therapeutic music experience with a group of strangers and keep on pitch and play a functional instrument? Do I think that I can stand being followed by this person for seven months? All of those thoughts go through my head during that interview and audition.
Once I decide to offer the internship position, I wait in nervous anticipation. Will the applicant accept the position? How will he or she fit into the program? Is it the right decision for my clients?
Then, the intern accepts the position. We start the paperwork requirements and wait for the start date.
I always have butterflies before a new intern starts. I have found that I'm a pretty good judge of who I can work with - that interview reveals much information - but you never know what will happen once a person actually arrives. I hope that I will be a good supervisor. I know that there will be times when I fall short of doing everything that an intern needs in the moment (I am human, after all), but I make myself a promise that I will try my best for each and every trainee that starts to work with me, and I do try my best. I am also convinced that, if a relationship is not healthy, changing or ending a dysfunctional relationship is a necessity, not only for me, but especially for the health and well-being of my clients. So, I go into each internship program with caution and excitement and nervousness.
At the end of the internship position, I feel proud of what each intern has accomplished, I feel excited that they are going out into the world to do good things, and I feel sad that they are leaving. I know that our relationship will change. I am no longer teacher, mentor, coach, or supervisor. I am peer. That is a great feeling, but it requires change. Some of my former interns (now colleagues) keep in touch with me on a regular basis. Some don't. I consider some of them to be my friends. Some of them are just my former interns. There's that shift in the relationship again. I am always proud of how each intern has managed to find her own way in the world and feel pride that I may have helped her find her way in some small way.
It is time to get ready for work. Today, on the last day of summer school, I will be helping #22 close her therapeutic relationships, pack up her desk, and then move into the next phase of her life... graduate, and music therapist!
It's time to say, "Congratulations. Goodbye. Get out!"
So, go out and do great things, #22!
I love being an internship director, but this is one of the most difficult parts of the job. It's hard to watch someone move on, but it is an essential part of the job of supervisor - recognizing when a person is no longer a learner but is now ready to move out into the world, and then letting them go into that world. It is time. #22 is ready to go out there and be "the" music therapist rather than the "music therapy intern."
You would think, having done this 21 times before, that this would have become an easy part of being a supervisor. Well, you'd be wrong.
I choose my interns carefully. I spend lots of time looking at the application and the reference letters that are sent. Once I feel comfortable with an applicant on paper, I require an 8-hour on-site interview to see if I can handle being with this person for a period of seven months. I rarely ask anyone to come up for an interview if I'm concerned about their application. It's not fair to expect someone to pay money to come to my area without the expectation that I will seriously consider them for the internship.
That is often the start of our relationship - that 8-hour interview/audition. I watch everything and anything that happens. How does an applicant react when one of my students screams? How does an applicant interact with my students when he or she is leading a group? How does that same applicant interact with my students when he or she isn't leading a group? Can the applicant lead a therapeutic music experience with a group of strangers and keep on pitch and play a functional instrument? Do I think that I can stand being followed by this person for seven months? All of those thoughts go through my head during that interview and audition.
Once I decide to offer the internship position, I wait in nervous anticipation. Will the applicant accept the position? How will he or she fit into the program? Is it the right decision for my clients?
Then, the intern accepts the position. We start the paperwork requirements and wait for the start date.
I always have butterflies before a new intern starts. I have found that I'm a pretty good judge of who I can work with - that interview reveals much information - but you never know what will happen once a person actually arrives. I hope that I will be a good supervisor. I know that there will be times when I fall short of doing everything that an intern needs in the moment (I am human, after all), but I make myself a promise that I will try my best for each and every trainee that starts to work with me, and I do try my best. I am also convinced that, if a relationship is not healthy, changing or ending a dysfunctional relationship is a necessity, not only for me, but especially for the health and well-being of my clients. So, I go into each internship program with caution and excitement and nervousness.
At the end of the internship position, I feel proud of what each intern has accomplished, I feel excited that they are going out into the world to do good things, and I feel sad that they are leaving. I know that our relationship will change. I am no longer teacher, mentor, coach, or supervisor. I am peer. That is a great feeling, but it requires change. Some of my former interns (now colleagues) keep in touch with me on a regular basis. Some don't. I consider some of them to be my friends. Some of them are just my former interns. There's that shift in the relationship again. I am always proud of how each intern has managed to find her own way in the world and feel pride that I may have helped her find her way in some small way.
It is time to get ready for work. Today, on the last day of summer school, I will be helping #22 close her therapeutic relationships, pack up her desk, and then move into the next phase of her life... graduate, and music therapist!
It's time to say, "Congratulations. Goodbye. Get out!"
So, go out and do great things, #22!
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