Does music therapy do any harm?

I was reading an article today on potential of eLearning in university environments (Conole, 2010, Journal of eLearning and Knowledge Society). This author was pointing out how very few academic environments have truly fulfilled on the promises made – for “personalisation, student-centred learning, to support new forms of communication and dialogical learning and enriched multi-model forms of representation” (p.13).  But what really caught my attention was the author’s reference to NO SIGNIFICANT DIFFERENCE being evident in studies of eLearning vs. traditional learning.

It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps we music therapists have been approaching the idea of statistical significance all wrong.  Instead of comparing our programs to other existing programs and being disappointed that we are not SIGNIFICANTLY MORE effective, we should be comparing ourselves to other equivalent programs of excellence and showing that we are NOT SIGNIFICANTLY WORSE! 

The author had used the argument in the way that music therapists do.  Under controlled conditions there was no evidence that eLearning was better.  But to my reading, as an interested and detached observer of the phenomenon, that was all I needed to hear – that it was no worse.  Times are moving forward and the only thing standing in the way of eLearning would be if it were detrimental to student learning.

Similarly, music therapy is an appealing and engaging form of therapy in many contexts.  There is often strong support from families and participants for music therapy programs, but funding is often not forthcoming, perhaps because of the lack of evidence. The argument we should be making is that the evidence shows that music therapy is doing no harm and that it is also desirable to consumers.  We should be conducting investigations to make sure that it is not detrimental, instead of constantly focusing on analysis of results to identify which dimensions we can claim statistically significant improvements on.    The best outcome we should be hoping for is equivalence, since I think we would all agree that we find music therapy as effective as other means of achieving therapeutic outcomes, but not necessarily more?  Or perhaps that’s just me?

Do we really have to take sides?

I was lucky enough to participate in a discussion today where a group of mature and thoughtful music therapy researchers debated how much our beliefs influence our research.  Earlier this week I sat with a group of enthusiastic and insightful music therapy students as we grappled with how our beliefs influence the therapy that we do. I learned a great deal from both, but I wanted to take the chance to consider two different approaches to this kind of learning.

If I adopted a dualistic approach, which I often have, I would be inclined to simplify the discussions by offering  a group of ideas to choose between.  This provides a structure for thinking and talking and allows us to acknowledge different ideas.  I have used this method quite consciously in response to my own experience of being confused by thoughtful people asking me to share my opinions on issues that I barely understand and therefore cannot really make an argument about.

But I am increasingly unable to rely on this favourite old strategy of mine.  I am finding it difficult to see the divides between perspectives anymore, and I often end up gazing at the overlap, which is even less helpful if I am trying to facilitate thinking and discussion.  Ken Wilber's concept of integral thinking is my saving grace in trying to understand why this has happened and how I am increasingly experiencing things.

It's not just that I can see the different perspectives and just don't feel like aligning myself with only one of them.  It's more like the perspectives are meeting and greeting one another and then transcending the false divides that seem to exist between them.  For me, this is the same experience as when you sing, or make music, or go to a concert with a whole group of strangers that you don't know (Christopher Small described this aptly as musicking).  You feel connected to one another in a deep understanding and sharing way, but you are a whole entity in yourself at the same time.  You neither lose yourself, nor maintain your need to distinguish yourself.

Not surprisingly then, this sounds as though my views on music and knowledge are integrating with my spiritual beliefs.  But instead of feeling all lined up and neat, it feels greater than, and expanded. 

My conclusion is that integral living works for me and I live integral thinking on my best days.  But then, of course, there's the other days ...

Music and learning - how does it help?

The state of music in Australian public schools is fairly poor.  According to 'Music: Play for Life' only 23% of public schools offer a substantial music curriculum. Compare that to 88% in privately funded schools.  So what is the motivation for private schools to be spending significant budget on some pretty serious music programs?

I think there are three main reasons.  The first is culture - high culture in fact.  In Australia the association between having cash and understanding music is well established.  Most funding of  cultural events is bolstered by philanthropic donors, and although the cost of attending is not exorbitant, nor is it particularly cheap.  So participation in the arts can indicate a status.  And perhaps more importantly, a substantial music education means that people have the skills and capacity to appreciate complexities associated with many genres of Western Art and Jazz music.  So kids that go to well-funded private schools are more likely to appreciate high culture.

But there are two other arguments for including music in the curriculum that schools find interesting - and these are related to learning outcomes.  It is quite easy to blend these two perspectives together, to make an over-simplified mega-argument, but I think it is very important to be clear about which is which.  Nikki Rickard wrote a chapter in our recently released book (Lifelong Engagement with Music: Benefits for Mental Health and Well-Being: Nova Publishers) that really clarified my thinking on this.

One perspective is that learning an instrument improves cognitive functioning in maths and literacy.  The other perspective is that targeting particular learning outcomes with musical strategies improves those outcomes, potentially in maths and literacy.  Am I making the difference clear? Let me explain  a little.

There are studies that show groups of children who have instrumental lessons do better in maths (in some studies) and literacy (in others) than a comparable group of children who have not had music lessons.  These are mostly small, individual studies and there is not a strong body of evidence to support this contention due to limitations in methodologies and number of participants.  But many people do accept this argument because they picture the high achievers in their local school context and they notice that those students are also studying music.  So anecdotal experience matches the hypothesis and the idea is more easily taken up by teachers, parents and the media.  Nikki points out that it is important to note that improvements have not been measured as resulting from generalist music classes in primary school - this is about specialist music tuition improving cognitive capacity .

The idea that music can be used to enhance learning through careful inclusion of tailored musical activities that target specific outcomes is different.  This is about embedding music within curriculum goals, where music contributes to the targeted outcome, often alongside other strategies.  Again, there are individual studies that show comparatively better learning outcomes for those students where music was involved.  Music has been used as a mnemonic aid throughout history after all - to learn times tables in mainstream schools, body parts (Put your finger on your nose, on your nose), emotion recognition (If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands) and much more.  Music therapists frequently draw on these possibilities in special education contexts, writing songs that are specific to the skill to be learned.  This is also powerfully illustrated when people have dementia and can't remember where they are nor recognise their children, but they can sing the words to a song from their youth.

These are distinct arguments, are they not?  And yet I have not always found it so easy to distinguish them.  The most popular form of simplified blending is to argue that music is good for learning.  Well, yes it can be.  But exactly how this is so is worth noting.  Simple exposure is probably not going to do it -but it might be fun (which might motivate you to get on with your study;)

Ahhh, life is beautifully complicated.

learning to blog

My interest in blogging was first piqued by a music therapist turned blogger in the United States named Kristen Chase.  She had written a fantastic book on music therapy assessment, but when I tried to find what university she had attached herself to, I discovered she had become a famous blogger, who gave great advice to new mom's.  She called herself the 'Mominatrix' and she was brilliant
http://www.imperfectparent.com/mominatrix/
So I was inspired, but inactive.

Then I then had the opportunity to contribute a couple of blogs in response to an almighty furor that erupted when I took my research on teenagers and music to the media to try and drum up some participants for my next study

http://www.metalsucks.net/2011/11/09/just-a-lot-of-noise-about-nothing-dr-katrina-mcferran-responds-to-justin-foleys-response-to-her-study-on-teens-music-and-depression/

http://www.metalinsider.net/guest-blog/exclusive-dr-katrina-mcferran-responds-to-reaction-towards-her-study-on-music-and-mood

I really appreciate the opportunity to write without having to provide evidence that my ideas have been inspired by the ideas of others - and this is fundamental academic currency.  So in this place, out in the real world, I want it taken as a given that I have read, well, you know, quite a lot of stuff and that it is all in my head somewhere, informing my thoughts, even when they seem innovative.  I promise to reference appropriately in all other forms of writing.  I do.  God bless blogging!

Trying to communication through language

There is no doubt in my mind that the words we use set the scene for the meaning we are trying to convey.  Perhaps it is obvious from that statement that I don't perceive  the relationship between the person communicating and the person receiving the message to be particularly simple. 

I know from my personal experience that I often try and explain something, either in person or via email, and the person I am communicating with can receive a very different message to what I intended. 

I also know from my writing that it can be laborious to try and find the right word to really convey what it is that I mean.  The thesaurus (as well as the spell check) is my friend and I consult with her often.  And then despite my best efforts, I often come back to a manuscript and have no idea what I was talking about.  Especially if it has been a while.

So I agree with both the philosophers and the structuralists who suggest that words are signposts.  And I am familiar with research that suggests in F2F communication it is as much your body language and your facial expressions, as it is your / my words.

I've heard and read many arguments about the politics of language, but today I was reading about the perspectives of Richard Rorty (as constructed by Peter Reason, a great Action Research author, in Volume 1, Edition 1 of the Action Research journal, back in 2003 - kindly shared with me by Lucy Bolger).  Rorty is a pragmatist, who studied with an older philosopher (John Dewey) whose ideas first caught my attention.

Rorty talks about the need for creating new language when we want to convey new concepts.  This is a position I have rejected emphatically for quite some time, and as with most things I am certain about, it turns out that I wish to change my mind.  Some of you will have heard my rants about stupid words like 'musicking' (should be musical participation) and 'affordances' (should be potentials) and 'reflexivity' (should just be reflections).  But in truth I have come to love each of these words because of the very special meanings they have and the ways that they are used to convey something particular that has a strong meaning to those people who find that notion important.  I've been playing with the idea of musical wellbeing myself - but more of that on another day.

Rorty provides and eloquent justification for this by explaining how using language that comes from another school of thought, and group of people who agree to that school of thought (aka Kuhn's paradigms), conveys those beliefs.  And using that language puts the new ideas into a reactionary position - rather than a creative and innovative one.  Anyway, he does say it better, with some scaffolding ideas from Peter Reason:

"If we want to argue persuasively for a new view of phenomena ... we are caught in a 'contest between an entrenched vocabulary which has become a nuisance and a half-formed vocabulary which vaguely promises great things' " (Reason, p. 105, quoting Rorty at the end, 1989, p.9)

I ended up at Rorty precisely because of this dilemma.  Paradigm thinking suddenly felt like too much of a reaction against qualitative/quantitative thinking. So dualism had become four columns (five, including a participatory paradigm, as per the SAGE handbook of Qualitative Research - the birthday present I bought myself 5 years ago:) and now post-paradigm thinking is emerging, and mixed methodology gurus are trying to find the philosophical (epistemological / ontological) underpinnings of that.  Dewey's pragmatics does have a lot to offer.

The next piece that Reason offers is about our values in relation to the kinds of research we do and the language we use to describe it. 
"We need to tell imaginative stories of new possibilities rather than build political theories" (p.111)

To me, this speaks to feminine ways of knowing, rather than knowledge derived from masculine styles.  Intuitive sensing of the next step, rather than a pre-defined plan of attack that explains where we are going before we even begin.  My personal development work with the Feminine Power school that is aligned with Wilber's Integral group has opened my mind to the possibility that I don't need to know where I am going in the future, I only need to know where I want to step next.  This may be obvious, but for me it was similarly empowering and helped me realise that I was trying to shape my life according to a way of knowing that I do not believe in.

So I retract my belief (and accompanying statements) that people who make-up words are wankers.  And as I journey forward into better understandings about the ways that mutually empowering and creative relationships can build a better world, I may even make up the odd word.  Watch out!