music, therapy, and me

I am currently in the middle of an AMTA self-assessment. Have you heard about this? This document was published in 2008 by the Professional Advocacy Committee at the time. It is supposed to be a way to evaluate ourselves based on the AMTA Standards of Clinical Practice, and I have some problems with it. As I read through this document, I am interested by the dichotomy between what AMTA folx think is the view of the "perfect music therapist" and the realities of my job assignment. Using this assessment, I am not acting as a music therapist because my job requirements do not match what AMTA thinks I should be doing in my job. This is a common situation that I find between the AMTA ideal of a music therapist and the reality of being a music therapist in the world of health care, education, and wherever! Now, should I be striving for the ideal? Somewhat, I guess, but I am in a place where many of the things on this assessment are not decided by me - they are decided by people who...

This is Orff week in my music therapy room. I am fortunate enough to have a full classroom set of Orff instruments that I received way back in 2008 or 2009 when then President Obama sent out grants to schools to increase technology in our classrooms. Rather than getting a smart board back then, I requested the instruments to enhance my instruction, and my request was allowed under the rules of the grant expenditures. So, the good people at West Music made my school a deal on my set, and I have loved those instruments ever since. Now, when I say that it is Orff week in my room, I do not mean that I am doing any sort of official Orff training with my students. When it comes to musical concepts, my students do not achieve things like steady beats, ostinato patterns, or even the idea of playing a melody line easily. So, my Orff weeks tend to be focused on exploring the instruments, but this week also gives me really good information about how my students process information. My chosen popu...

It is Sunday, and that means time to do some synthesis, AKA reading something and then internalizing it within my own clinical practice to make some sense out of what happens during music therapy. So, off we go into the ninth chapter of my selected text - Music, therapy, and early childhood: A developmental approach. Written by Elizabeth Schwartz, this text organizes several ideas about musical development into a book that is a practical guide for music therapy clinicians who work within early childhood populations. With a bit of synthesis and lots of thought, I use this text as a guide for my work with children, adolescents, and others with developmental disabilities. Like all of my synthesis texts, it takes some extrapolation to get from the intent of the author to my own population, but that's what I'm here for - to figure out what is applicable to my students. Last week, I started an infographic for myself to help me organize my thoughts. Here's the graphic from la...

Today is the day that I dive back into my synthesis textbook - Music, Therapy, and Early Childhood: A Developmental Approach by Elizabeth Schwartz. I am up to chapter seven, Awareness, and I am looking forward to reading these 10 pages. We are starting with the development of awareness in early human development - something that is important when working with persons with developmental interruptions or challenges. A long time ago, my facility served persons with significant involvement due to developmental situations. These persons often required 24 hour care for all activities of daily life, and this group of students seemed to be one of the most challenging for my music therapy interns because they responded to things very differently from all the other students. This chapter is reminding me of those students. According to Schwartz, awareness is linked to the "reflex phase of musical development" from Briggs and Bruscia (p. 49). Children respond to the stimuli presen...

Yesterday I found out that I still have traces of pneumonia, so it is very likely that I will not be having my ACL surgery next week as planned. The surgeon's questionnaire asked if I had pneumonia in the past six weeks, and the bell in my head started tolling. Rationally, I understand why it's not a good idea to put anesthesia into the mix of fluid-filled lungs, but my emotional mind is all over the place. I've felt very much like Shrodinger's cat lately. Or maybe I've felt like the observers of that cat. There are two realities for me right now. The first reality, the one I prefer at this point but which I think is out of my reach now, is surgery on Tuesday with the start of recovery and therapy on schedule as planned. The second reality is postponing surgery to Thanksgiving time, getting my lungs completely clear and healthy again, and then starting the process later than hoped for, but in a way that has less health risk. Until yesterday afternoon and my most r...

...and I awoke with my usual feelings of dread. It amazes me how one group of clients can pull me into a morass of doubt, frustration, and feelings of inadequacy. Last week, I went with the "divide and conquer" strategy. It worked for about 40 minutes before the first major explosion occurred. I am hoping for a repeat of 40 minutes of good things happening before some sort of conflict happens... Each of these clients would be fine in individual services, but group is what they have available to them. None of them can actually relate to other people in ways that society expects. This translates into disastrous sessions when there is little therapy happening. I awake in the morning, fretting about what might happen (based on actual, real-life experiences), and waste valuable time in a semi-anxious state. I'm a mess really. All on Wednesdays. I think several things need to change. First, my way of interacting and my expectations of these clients needs to change. For the ...

Things are not often what they seem at first glance. This thought is just as true in the therapy setting as it is in any other situation or circumstance. This week has been an example of looking deeper into situations that are one thing at first glance, but are something else entirely at the second glance. I have the privilege of being a music therapist at a psychiatric residential treatment facility for children and adolescents ages 5-22. It is part of a larger program that offers educational and residential services for persons with developmental delays and disabilities from infancy to age 3 and ages 5 to end-of-life. (We do not serve kids from 3-5 due to an educational mandate in our state.) Kids come to my music therapy room with a variety of letters put very carefully into Axis boxes. Axis I diagnoses are often from the world of psychiatry. Axis II diagnoses are often developmental in nature, and Axis III diagnoses are other health diagnoses. It is not uncommon for a ...

Constant Assessment During music therapy sessions, I often find myself assessing everything that is going on...music, client responses, my responses, sounds, communication, movement, breathing, and the environment. I believe, in order to be a good music therapist, a clinician has to be shifting and changing all the time. This is true within the session as well as outside the session. Anytime a therapist feels that he or she can predict what is coming next, he or she is falling into a trap. The one thing that I know without fail is that clients will surprise you every time. Every time I start to feel like I can predict what a client's response to music will be, the client reacts counter to how I expect. This is a wonderful reminder of how to remain client-centered at all times and keeps me on my toes. The joy of being in the moment of the musicking overcomes all of the plans that I make. When I relax and am truly client-centered, the music experience is profound.