Yesterday, I read a post by a blogger about her experiences combining music and neuroscience while she’s completing medical school and I was fascinated and inspired by her dedication to bringing music deeper into the medical community. But, I also felt a little jealous and this feeling doesn’t sit well with me. This has nothing to do with the blogger herself, but I felt myself feeling envious because I associate medical doctors with a higher status than music therapists. Theoretically, I know this isn’t true. MDs and MTs occupy different niches of healthcare that work together in the patient’s best interest.
So this led to the little realization I’m still working through some issues from my undergrad experiences about my place in the workforce as a music therapist. My search for validation as a music therapist started almost as soon as I started training to become one. My freshman year of college, it was announced that the music therapy program at my college would be closing. Music therapy was “phased out”, meaning that every class I took was the last time the course would be offered. By them time I graduated four years later, only three other (fabulous) ladies were in the program with me.
Of course, this was a shock. Before the announcement, our program was close to 30 people strong and we were a close bunch that held leadership positions in our student regional board. To make the situation more upsetting, the conservatory didn’t have enough respect for our program to handle the announcement with grace. We music therapy majors only learned this after a loose-lipped professor outside the program blabbed to students at a house party.
Adding insult to injury, the director of our program suddenly disappeared on a leave of absence that had “hush-hush” undertones. The unanimous vote to cut music therapy was made when we lacked a full-time faculty to advocate for us. When asked for a reason for the program’s end, the administration replied that music therapy students “did not meet the level of musicianship needed in a conservatory”. We all knew this was an erroneous statement, but ouch.
For the last three years, college was not the same. Half the students of our program transferred to other colleges. In addition to losing my support network of fellow music therapy students, I encountered pity and snide remarks from other students at times (though most classmates were supportive). But even the faculty subtly expressed their lack of support for music therapy, such as when the music education department started calling dibs on the music therapy instruments before we graduated. But the toughest part knowing that every tenured professor I had class with had voted to end my program. I was surrounded by professionals who on some level didn’t believe in the work I was learning to do.
Looking back, I wondered if I should have also transferred out. Classes that had been promised to us were cut because we didn’t meet the enrollment minimum. The one professor who stayed on and carried our program through the summer after the announcement had to step into a role that she was not prepared for. The interim professors that were hired were well-meaning, but not fully invested in my music therapy education. I fully thank them for each of my music therapy professors’ dedication to helping me graduate, but the more I learn about thriving music therapy programs I see a quality gap in what’s possible and what I had.
Things that I gained from having gone through a discontinued music therapy program? I learned that I am the only one who will advocate for myself and speak up when my needs are not being met. I learned to be ready to explain and validate my views at a moment’s notice. I learned to hold myself and work with dignity, even if the conservatory’s administration didn’t.
I’m glad that today the number of music therapy college programs being closed is vastly outnumbered by the growing number of colleges adding music therapy to their academics. Still, part of me is fighting to make sure that music therapy earns and grows the respect of professionals out in the workforce. Today, I’m pleased to work with an interdisciplinary team where the creative arts are flourishing and have the full backing of administrators.
Has anyone else been in a similar situation? Any advice or thoughts on this topic?