My Professor Was Wrong About Music Therapy
I just finished taking the GRE and it is looking hopeful that I won’t have to sit for it again. With any luck, this time next year I’ll be starting a graduate program in music therapy. With hopes of the future close to my mind, some memories of undergrad are also rising to the surface. All music therapy majors are accustomed to explaining and advocating for their major, but my senior year of college faced me with an advocacy opportunity that I left unfulfilled. Sharing it here, I hope to encourage others who find themselves in a situation in which a person of authority is incredulous toward what you have to say.
It was my research methods class, taught by a tenured psychology professor whose research focused on rehabilitation settings with people who suffered acquired brain trauma. She was describing how her research was impacting the re-acquisition of language. Knowing about Melodic Intonation Therapy (MIT) and the neurological benefits of music, I raised my hand and asked if she knew about the research being done with music, language and the brain. After hearing out my little “elevator speech” about NMT, she looked at me with a little smile and replied, “If you worked with these patients, you would know the last thing they’re doing is singing.“
Years later, I can’t remember my response. I knew she was wrong, both about music therapy and in the tone of her response. I remember feeling torn over whether to push the issue or let it lie because she was a figure of authority. Ultimately, I wasn’t prepared for the possibility that she would completely blow me off. It seemed she didn’t accept music as a legitimate clinical tool and only considered music a recreational activity.
What bothered me most, however, was that she hadn’t demonstrated a level of open-mindedness I expected of scientists. The scientific method doesn’t preclude any phenomenon of credibility, as long as empirical evidence exists. Scientific theories are capable of being revised as long as observable, reliable, and valid evidence is found. My professor was wrong about music therapy because she didn’t take a moment to consider that music therapy was on the cutting edge of her field, even though she probably hadn’t heard of it before.
As I move toward my academic aspirations, I will always remember this moment. If I am lucky enough to become a professor, I hope to never let my own biases (while not completely avoidable) close my eyes to possibilities beyond my expertise. For those who have or will face similar situations, I hope that you will have the courage I didn’t and not let the moment pass you by.