Truth be
told, I have not looked forward to writing this reflection because it means my time of being on the SMWC campus is coming to a close. I was also
worried I would not be able to fully articulate how much my time here has meant
to me in writing. Until last week, I had a
very different reflection I was going to share. As often is the case with
wonderful Providential timing, I witnessed something recently that allowed me
to more effectively process what I wanted to say.
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| Nathan Mensah in first year of cello lessons |
Music is the
way I often process, communicate, and share with others. Music is the vessel
through which I can express things I cannot put into words. When I hear a piece
of music, I can often be seen bopping my head shamelessly or just flat out
dancing. When I am learning and performing songs on guitar and piano, how can I
not groove if the music is telling me to do so? With our beating hearts, our lungs
expanding and collapsing, and the circadian rhythms on which we operate, our
bodies are rhythmic entities, so when I’m fully engaged in the music it is
impossible for the music not to be in my body regardless of whether I’m
listening to something, playing a new instrument, or conducting.
I discovered one of the
most difficult parts about the Music Therapy program at SMWC was to simply let my
authentic self come through in sessions with clients. I had always felt that
“trumpet Nate”, “music therapy student Nate”, “composer Nate”, etc. were all
different identities. On the contrary, all of these boxes were part of the
fuller whole. My musical identity is comprised of many elements, and it was
only when I felt comfortable enough to bring all of those elements into my core
that I was able to start being fully authentic in sessions. As a music therapy
student, it was my job to use clinical and evidence-based music interventions
to help my clients accomplish their goals and work toward healthy change.
Normally this took place in the form of using familiar songs while challenging
clients to accomplish tasks such as playing instruments, responding in certain
ways, or to engage in a verbal discourse afterwards. I was most challenged to be fully authentic in
sessions where improvisation was the primary method of communication.
Last
semester, I worked alongside a board certified music therapist (MT-BC) with an
adult client with a range of intellectual and developmental disabilities. One of our goals for this client was to help
increase his level of initiating interaction, so we were challenged to play
piano music and other percussive instruments to assist him with staying engaged
in the music. Unlike my other sessions, pre-composed songs were not used and we
created piano and vocal music for the client during the session using clinical
improvisation techniques. Clinical improvisation allows a client and music therapist
to create spontaneous music in the moment, often resulting in unique
epiphanies, growth, and authentic connection within the therapeutic
relationship. As
our mind, body, and spirit are all connected, music can often bring about a
transformation for a client. I felt like my identity took a shift after working
with this particular client. Initially when working with this client, I noticed
I was having trouble building a connection with him. This has been a struggle
for me in my past. That semester I also felt like I had become musically
stagnant: I was in a decent place, but I knew I was not growing. Through a
musical improvisation with my on-site music therapy supervisor, and a
discussion about “being in the moment” with my faculty music therapy supervisor,
I was challenged to improvise on my own time to try to work through these
issues. When I played music on the piano alone, I started to realize I did not
need to separate my “musical selves”. Why couldn’t a piece of music reflect all of my tastes? Improvisation has no
rules, and it is a place where we can be free to express ourselves fully. This
does not mean the result is always pretty or beautiful, but this makes sense:
we all have days when we feel down, and we all have days when we feel like a
million bucks; so, then, our created music can also change day by day.
When I
started to accept these ideas, I started to trust my musical intuition, and
when my client vocalized and made high and low noises with his voice, I started
to imitate him. This was a pivotal moment- over the rest of the semester, the
client and I connected through vocalizing with each other, responding to each
other, and harmonizing. I believe he became more aware of his own role in the
music, and he started to do new things like hold notes for over 20 seconds (a
very long time to try to sing along!) and explore his lower and upper
registers. We took a new and risky journey together and the result was a fun, beautiful,
authentic connection. As a musical being (as we all are), I feel most connected
when I can rely on music to do the talking for me. The easiest music
connections can occur when we become our uninhibited selves. If we can’t
bring our fully real selves to clients, how can we expect our clients to do the
same?
I can’t
begin to put into words how much I have enjoyed and felt blessed by the past
few years. Many tangible milestones have taken place of which I am proud: my Ska
band finished recording their first album, I got to be in my first professional
theater production, I learned how to play guitar and fell in love with it, I
attended two schools at once for over a year and survived a year working the
third shift at a hospital. But none of them feel as accomplished as getting to
share countless musical moments with others. I feel nothing is as important as
knowing I witnessed, and engaged with, each client who chose to share their
music with me. I was placed in sessions to help clients determine new ways of
thinking about things, but in reality, they taught me more than I could ever
hope to learn.
People sometimes
say I am a relatively closed off person, despite my outgoing nature. This is
not because of them, but because I often only share what I consider worth
sharing. I only find it worthwhile to
open up to someone when I know they can truly listen and when I know I can
trust them. Over the course of this final semester, I realized I needed to open
up more, not just for others, but for myself so I could grow. One friend of
mine challenged me to tell them a new fact about myself every few days. Another
friend promised to always be there to listen and keep personal matters private.
This opening of my personality, while cumbersome, has made me feel more
connected to others. We all have flaws and problems we go through- no one is an
island- and we are not meant to go through life alone. In music therapy, we are
hoping to help our clients realize thoughts like these; but, if they can’t
achieve growth by themselves, we can help. While I was placed on the Behavioral
Health Care Unit of Regional Hospital, my co-music therapy student and I often
played songs (such as “I Can See Clearly Now”) with clients and then discussed
the lyrics and meaning of the song. This was done to see if clients could draw
conclusions from the meanings of songs to apply to their own lives. One of my on-site
practicum supervisors told me the music is an identity in sessions, just as
important as the persons in the room. It is only through true connectedness when
we can help to reach beyond ourselves in music and in life.
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| Mensah and fellow SMWC music therapy students |
*Author Nathan Mensah, SMWC senior music therapy student, completes his coursework May 2016 and will begin his 6-month clinical music therapy internship at Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center in July 2016.
