Saturday, May 3, 2014

Retreating in order to Re-Emerge


I had the opportunity to attend a retreat in New Zealand this Easter, where the leader was a spiritual and relationship guru by the name of Stephanie Dowrick.  As a self-confessed self-help book junky, I have followed Stephanie’s work for over a decade (with special thanks to Jodie Webster who has provided me with a number of books from her publishing house – http://www.allenandunwin.com/), and have been longing to attend the retreat at Mana for the past five years.  So I prepared diligently for the experience by spending some time in contemplation before I left and taking some areas for personal development with me that I wanted to address.  And I was not disappointed.

Stephanie’s greatest contributions to the discourse about relationships have been in emphasising kindness and the importance of choosing happiness (see ‘Kndness and other acts of love’ and ‘The Universal Heart’ at https://www.qbd.com.au/search.htm?q=stephanie%20dowrick ).  This intersects with her inter-faith spirituality, which focuses clearly on love and compassion as the necessary characteristics for an evolving world (see ‘Seeking the Sacred’ and ‘Heaven on Earth’).  And it was precisely in the intersection of relationships and spiritual abundance that I found what I was looking for.

As a survivor of a failed marriage, I feel that I have journeyed deep into the terrain of interpersonal relationships within my own life, as well as exploring it to better my practice as a music therapist. Personally, I explored the self-help literature with the intention of saving my relationship, and then later, with the intention of exiting it in the most positive way.  I have sought teachings from a range of sources, including the very beautiful Conscious Uncoupling process that Gwyneth and Chris recently invoked in the ending of their own relationship (http://evolvingwisdom.com/consciousuncoupling/free-online-class/).  And importantly, my work with the related Feminine Power group (http://evolvingwisdom.com/consciousuncoupling/free-online-class/) helped me to develop the personal strength I needed to respond to my circumstances with vision and inspiration, rather than feeling defeated.

What Stephanie Dowrick reminded me of this Easter was my need to return home with a renewed commitment to compassion.  Given my personal history, as well as my work as a therapist with an increasing interest in manifesting greater equity and justice in the word, I was particularly moved by her reflections on how to integrate compassion into situations that lack harmony.  She responded to our deep need for insights on how to deal with conflict by asking us to consider the following. 
When the bell of disharmony rings loudly, it asks ‘what can I learn here?’ and also, ‘what is disrupting the harmony on the other side?’. 
Instead of reacting in a defensive, or an offended way to conflict, she asked us to bring our willingness to learn something to the encounter.  Instead of focusing on our own hurt, or blaming the other person, she asked us to look deep within ourselves to find a response that combines love with an intelligent curiosity.

Whereas I had previously wondered if Stephanie was just a bit too positive, the Easter retreat revealed that this was an incorrect perception.  She was well able to understand the need to make choices and take actions to move out of situations where mutual respect is not possible.  She did not suggest avoiding conflict, but rather that we need to move gently into the territory where conflict exists in order to discern whether it is possible to bring a mutual sense of ownership to the situation.  She spoke about the ways that moving beyond defensive reactions can increase intimacy, particularly when we bring a willingness to understand the needs of the other in equal measure with our own needs.  And she emphasised the importance of honouring our own boundaries when the other/s is not ready for mutuality.  She asked us to notice when the situation was more than we can bear, and to be kind to ourselves by moving away from those conditions where moving towards has not resulted in a change.

There were bounteous spiritual references throughout the weekend, and Stephanie repeatedly shared the teachings of Thích Nhất Hạnh and Jesus, as well as the music of Krishna Das and her own colleague, Kim Cunio.  We meditated often, spent much time in silence, and I personally trekked up the mountain on a daily basis to spend time in contemplation of the gorgeous west coast of the North Island in New Zealand.   I am pleased to report that my commitment to compassion has not reduced since my return, and I have chosen to bring it to my workplace as I communicate with students and negotiate the politics of leadership in the university sector. 

It is always much easier to hold on to such loving feelings when surrounded by others who are similarly determined, as we were on the retreat, but I do believe that it is the way I grapple with the real life challenges of being in relationship with others that truly defines who I am.  It is true that I have struggled and not always succeeded, but this does not deter me from my trying. For me, spiritual faith allows me to remember that I am only human, and that it is not expected that I should be perfect – that is the terrain of the Gods.  So I go imperfectly forward with less defence than ever; knowing that I have the inner strength to handle pain, rejection and failure when it comes and that I do not need to live in fear of it by trying to avoid it.  Instead, I go forward with love and compassion.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

It's just not fair mate. Why we need more music in schools.

I am passionate about the fact that music can create mutually empowering conditions within which people have the opportunity to flourish.  If there is no decent foundation for engaging in music together, then everything begins to get unbalanced.  The situation in Australia is far from equitable, with a significant discrepancy between the possibilities for music that are available to those in publicly funded and user-pays schools.  It sucks.  So I wrote a little piece about it.

 http://theconversation.com/class-matters-when-it-comes-to-music-education-22956

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Return to feminism


As the amount of time grows from the end of my marriage, I am more clearly able to see some of the deeply rooted beliefs that had taken hold during those 17 years of relationship.  One of them was turning my back on feminism, which I can see now was actually a break, rather than a conclusion.  I have spent some time in the past few days reflecting on my relationship with feminism and being pleasantly surprised by how important it has been to me, not least because my mother was a feminist of the 60s and 70s.

During my years living in a residential college at the University of Melbourne, I became the representative of the colleges on the Universities Feminist Committee.  To this day I am not sure how that happened, and I remember feeling utterly under-qualified for the position but determined to learn as much as I could. This experience of being thrust into positions that seem far beyond my abilities has been a recurring pattern in my life, but with the Feminist Committee, as with many other situations, I seemed to find my way and ultimately began to identify as a feminist.  This sometimes involved battling with the assumptions of the other women on the committee who felt that all women living in residential colleges were unduly privileged and therefore uninformed and un-critical.  I felt this was unjust and oppressive and told them so, and some of the members began to treat me with a little more respect.  Of course, there was some truth in their accusations, but I was right to suggest that women excluding other women from potential growth opportunities was a small-minded response.

During that time I purchased all the contemporary pop-feminist literature that was available, including Susan Faludi’s ‘Backlash: The undeclared war against women’, and Naomi Wolf’s ‘The Beauty Myth’ and ‘Fire with Fire’, as well as the less politically correct ‘Get your tongue out of my mouth, I’m kissing you goodbye’ and an older text by Colette Dowling ‘The Cinderella Complex’.  I also stole some books from my mother’s collection: ‘The Hite Report’ and ‘The Women’s Room’.  My social work lecturer encouraged us to read Foucault’s ‘The History of Sexuality’ and I remember Virginia Wolf’s ‘Orlando’ coming out as a movie during this time.  All in all, it was a reasonable beginning and I was well supported by my ‘privileged’ friendship networks to challenge assumptions and make loud speeches at dinner parties, even if I only had a few pieces to string together.

Over the next two decades I began to question feminism however, and I can see now that this was caused by the incongruence between the ideals of the discourse and the realities of my life.  I clearly remember thinking ‘What’s the point of all this feminist reading, it’s just making me terribly unhappy.  I can’t live up to these standards’.  After years of quiet raging, I turned my back on critical beliefs and turned towards more positive readings.  I reignited my passion for Humanism and it’s emphasis on unconditional positive regard – the opposite of holding critical perspectives.  I imbibed every positive psychology text that supported my individual choosing of happiness, and I focused on flourishing and creativity.  And I reignited my faith, moving through Buddhism to Integral Spirituality.  These were not wasted decades.  I learned a great deal from these scholars and I am particularly grateful to have developed a capacity to take responsibility for my own part in any challenging situation, rather than simply blaming others. 

In the year before my marriage ended however, I discovered a new discourse.  My studies of Ken Wilber’s integral thinking led me to two women (one American, one Australian) who had developed an on-going conversation called Feminine Power – Claire Zammit and Katherine Woodward Thomas.  This on-line group provided me with the impetus to value the contribution that women are here to make in the world.  The focus on mutually empowering relationships and choosing a calling that is bigger than individual happiness literally changed my world.  Learning to value myself again allowed me to make the important decisions that I had been trying to run away from.

It still took some time to come back to critical feminism however.  I recall participating in a Feminist Music Therapy symposium in Argentina in 2008 where I declared that there was no more need for feminism and that our mother’s had achieved all they could through this discourse (ahhh, it is a humiliating memory, I must admit).  But lately I have found myself tentatively poking around the edges of feminism again.  I have bought more books, read more articles, and allowed myself to be truly appalled by the statistics about the treatment of women in the world – supported by viewing many TED talks that provide important information about the issues facing many women in countries around the globe.  In my own privileged world at the University I have participated in women’s leadership forums where the facts are also oppressive and where male domination is still the status quo.  And finally I have found my way back to feminist theory. The opportunity to work with Sue Hadley as a Co-Editor of Voices: A world forum for music therapy (along with Brynjulf Stige), has been particularly inspiring.  And so have many women colleagues in my field and beyond – particularly the anti-oppressive work being advocated by Sue Baines, and Randi Rolvsjord’s ‘Resource Oriented Music Therapy’. 

I am making a re-commitment to feminism in this summer-time blog.  I aspire to problematize my research findings, and to shine light on the assumptions that underpin the oppressions that impinge on people’s full participation.  I recognize that my circle of influence is limited, but I aim to contribute what I can and to support others to do what they can.  I take up Craig Hamilton’s challenge (from the Integral Enlightenment group) – if not you, then who?

Monday, August 26, 2013

Mutually empowering conditions - is that what music therapists offer?


I was lucky enough to be invited to present a keynote paper at the European Music Therapy Congress in Oslo this year.  It was a huge honour and I took the opportunity to think very carefully about what I have learned about music therapy as a result of the various research projects I have read and conducted, as well as my experiences in working as a music therapist, and the theoretical frameworks that have influenced the ways I understand these things.  I wasn’t sure if I would be able to condense my thinking into a one-hour presentation, but luckily, a few hours on the slopes of the beautiful Mt Hutt in the South Island of New Zealand helped me to align with my intentions and a structure emerged that allowed my story to unfold in a short time.

The key message I tried to impart was that music therapists create ‘mutually empowering conditions’ when they engage participants from a person-centered (Rogerian Humanistic) orientation.  More than building positive relationships with people, music therapists have the possibility to impact the environment around players by changing the ways that they are seen and understood in that context.  Whereas traditional music therapy practice emphasized the ‘sacred space’ around the therapeutic encounter and sought private and confidential experiences (in line with psychodynamic thinking), contemporary practice actively seeks engagement with the people and systems that surround individuals.  This might begin with private ‘musicking’ experiences, but can often grow beyond the walls of the therapy room for broader impact, as community music therapy theorists such as Brynjulf Stige, Gary Ansdell and Mercedes Pavlicevic have advocated.

The idea of mutuality has also become increasingly important to me under the influence of Randi Rolvsjord’s writings about resource oriented music therapy as well as the learnings from the Common Factors meta-analyses in psychotherapy (particularly Scott Miller who presented a fascinating workshop in Melbourne some years ago).  I think Randi has been able to name a particular quality that I always admire when I read about the work of therapists who move me – Irvin Yalom for example, or Andy Malekoff, or Reed Larson.  It goes further than having unconditional positive regard for the people we work with and allows space for the contribution that we make as therapists. I think that therapy is a mutual process that requires everyone to engage and commit, or it just doesn’t help that much.  For me, it’s the opposite of the teachings from Neurologic Music Therapy school, where the emphasis is on what the music therapist does to help, rather than the people themselves being the ones who work hard to achieve that change.  That said, I do think the notion of ‘empowering conditions’ can still encompass NMT, just not so much emphasis on the mutual.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about what empowerment is, and have come to a personal conclusion that being empowered means making good choices.  We often talk about offering opportunities for choice and control in music therapy, and I think that what we are referring to here is a part of creating mutually empowering conditions.  One of the stimulating PhD scholars in our group, Lucy Bolger, has been stretching herself to try and work out what we mean when we invoke a concept like empowerment.  As a result, her descriptions of collaborative processes truly capture the ways that music therapists who listen carefully to what players want can create conditions that people choose to ‘buy in’ to and therefore make an active contribution towards their own positive growth.  An important part of this is not taking all the responsibility for making things ‘sound’ or look good and successful.  A wonderful woman called Paula D’Arcy also captures this in a lecture with Richard Rohr that speaks to empowerment – she describes how we cannot and should not ‘save’ people, but should instead have faith that our destinies are mutually dependent and that opportunities to realize what we all need will arise.  To take that spiritual learning into a therapeutic context means that we cannot and should not ‘help’ people, but rather we should create conditions that encourage people to reach towards what they need.  This is similar to the ecologically informed definition of resilience that Michael Ungar and Bruce Perry offer, where it is partially the individual’s willingness to take steps towards coping, but also the availability of a context that supports those steps and provides something to step towards.

Anyway, the keynote went for an hour, and obviously there is decades of thinking behind it, but I did want to share some of the ideas with you all.  What do you think?  Mutually empowering conditions.  It’s an interesting idea, right?

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Thinking about servant leadership


As a young professional, I was always slightly annoyed by the fact that a person’s age was closely related to the agreed perception about their capacity to lead.  It seemed to me that merely getting old opened the door to opportunities to be heard.  As a young woman who was constantly filled with new ideas and creative projects, I was frustrated by being constantly contained and restrained.  It is a marker of my youth that I was always racing to get through it, so I could reach the point where I was able to enact my ideas.  You could infer that I was lacking a little in the ‘presence’ department with this focus on future rather than in the moment.  Yes indeed. 

But here I am.  I turned 41 this week and I have fulfilled the assumptions of the hierarchy about the need for a link between age and leadership.  I seem to have run into it, just by being around long enough and being willing. As a result, the questions that have been distracting me since I turned 40 have been to do with leadership.  I have been studying the idea in different ways – participating in a Women in Leadership forum with colleagues from across the university, reading endless books, analyzing examples of leadership offered by friends and world leaders.  And of course, I have been talking about it incessantly with colleagues, students, family and friends. I notice that I have also been speaking to this topic in my previous blogs where I have discussed power and love, the power inherent in the use of the word ‘client’, and not least, changing the world.

What surprises me most about the experience of combining ageing and leadership is the lack of desire I have for it.  Even as I was questioning the validity of the relationship between age and power, I knew that I didn’t aspire to have power over others.  I wanted to be in relationship with power so that my ideas would have the possibility of being explored.  I wanted to be able to go to leadership and suggest things and have them heard, if not always accepted.  Over time, I came to identify as being a 2IC (second in charge), initially in small projects, and later in bigger systems.

Although my journey seems like a natural progression in retrospect, when leadership was finally thrust upon me from outside it took all my strength not to run away.  This was as true in my experience of parenting (which I see as a form of leadership) as it was professionally.  Despite my belief that I have an important contribution to make, I have had to come to terms with taking responsibility alongside that.  I had to stop speeding in my car when there was a baby in the backseat, and I have had to become more carefully attuned to the system that I work in and alert to the need to stand in my power for the benefit of others, even more so than for representing my own ideas.  I had no idea it would be like this when I was observing the phenomenon from my youthful perspective.

In all of my grappling to come to terms with this, the concept of servant leadership has had the greatest appeal for me.  This notion has been introduced in the contemporary literature by Robert Greenleaf, and I remember how my whole body resonated with it as I read about it in Joseph Jaworski’s writings, not least because he describes coming from a place of youthful self-absorption and then recognizing how important it was to fulfill on his commitment to others.  And then this morning I finished reading Paul Johnson’s book, “Jesus: A biography from a believer”. 

The form of leadership that Jesus embodied was truly the most inspirational, and even if you don’t choose to believe in any greater field of life than your own self, as Paul Johnson says, there is no doubt that as an individual his life was striking.  Jesus anticipated many of the issues that we continue to struggle with today and offered a way of being that was true leadership.  He never abused his power.  He always listened. He took time out to be alone and be nourished by his connection with a greater force.  He always recognized the importance of the ‘little people’ of his time even though the social conditions gave absolutely no power to them – women would be drowned in the river if they tried to leave their husbands, but their husbands could divorce them if the dinner was over-cooked!  He advocated for mercy and grace, rather than judgment. He enjoyed the company of others and recognized that all great things come to us through our relationships.  The list goes on, but what is striking is that the way of being that Jesus embodied would still be considered as great leadership to this day, and we still need it – though the historical descriptions in the text did remind me that we have come a long way.

It was truly inspiring to read a historical account of the life of a leader and to be reminded of how important it is to aspire to be as good as we can be.  As Greenleaf says, “the servant-leader shares power, puts the needs of others first and helps people develop and perform as highly as possible.” (https://www.greenleaf.org/what-is-servant-leadership/). I’ve seen many of you enact this kind of behavior and been the grateful recipient of it on many occasions.  Whatever our motivations, and no matter what direction we turn as we endeavor to live this way (management, parenting, musicking …), the concept of leading through living our life as best we can has enormous appeal to me.  I still have plenty of work to do in making it so, of course.  But I feel happy to be one who is striving, falling over, getting back up, and striving again.  And there is enormous joy to be gained in studying those who have been truly magnificent. 

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Can I change the world? No, but we can do it together!

I had to change the name of my Blogspot.  Although I am passionate about my career as a music therapist, I am also passionate about my kids, my friends, and the world at large.  It was too hard to separate them out.  So now I am just meandering about anything, including music therapy.

As the title suggests, I want to contribute to change happening in our world, and soon.  And I finally worked out how to do it.  It's about having little conversations, insightful dialogues that get underneath assumptions about 'that's just the way things are' and start asking about how 'we want things to be'.

I was inspired to do this when challenged by the question - if not you, who?  If I don't do something, then who is going to?  Gina?  Bob?  Catrin?  Hussain?  Giulia?  Amira?  Ngon?  Well yes, maybe they will.  But not by themselves.  We all have to do it.  If not you, then who?  Who is going to make the changes that you know need to happen?  It's very dis-empowered to assume there is nothing you can do.

There has never been a time like this before.  The world grows more amazing every day in nearly every way.  And yet we seem to think that we should maintain the same old attitudes towards things???  That doesn't make sense does it?  Don't we need to evolve our attitudes to keep up with teh changes, or better still, drive them.

I think we can do little things to start.  So I was talking with my son today about using 'and' instead of 'but'.  We had been to the water park all day and it was great.  Naturally we began to compare it to other water parks we've been too, most notably, the one in Bali 6 months ago which was more than great.  It was AMAZING!

To begin, my sweet son was trying not to be critical of the little Victorian version, so he said it was just as good.  I challenged him to be more discriminating about it, since he is a highly intelligent young man and of course he knows that 17 wild rides (in Bali) is a lot more than 2 (ok, there was also some good mini-golf, archery, a little go-karting track - I mean, it really was pretty good).  So he tried again "The Victorian water park is really quite good, but, the one in Bali was heaps better.'  I congratulated him, and my daughter joined in as we enthusiastically recounted our favourite rides and moments from the day.

Then I took it one step further.  "You know Liam, why don't we try saying this one was good AND the one in Bali was even better."  Bless him.  He took me seriously and considered it.  "But Mum, it just doesn't sound right if you say it that way."  I agreed with him about the sound of it and went on to explain how we need to give up 'either/or' dichotomies of dualistic thinking (inspired by Fr. Richard Rohr) and that sometimes we need to change the way we use language because words create reality and can reinforce dogmas we don't agree with (inspired by Philosophy in general, I suppose particularly Habermas or Freire, as beautifully explained by Daphne Rickson).  Actually, I kept it simpler than that, he's only 8 after all, and the two of them have been known to start laughing at me if I get too full of big words.  But you get the point.  It is possible to perceive many different ways of seeing things and valuing things, and using language that reflects only two possibilities 'either / or', 'right / wrong' suggests otherwise.  So we can change our language to reflect our beliefs better.

So, I didn't really win them over to my argument this afternoon, but it's more about what I do than what I say anyway.  I'm trying to live it.  I'm trying to change the world. I'm trying to create a culture that reflects my dreams about a world that is run through mutually empowered and collaborative relationships so that we all have enough love, food, hygiene, education.  You probably agree right?  Well if you're not going to help me co-create this world, then who?  Will you?  Please?  Let's take little steps together to begin.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Are you my 'client'?


I have been challenged recently to think more deeply about my rejection of the word 'client'. I’ve been trying not to use the word for a number of years, and frankly, it’s been a hard habit to break.  But I had made a very conscious decision in opposition to what I perceived as the institutionalised power imbalance invoked when the ‘client’ was framed as a recipient of my expert treatment.  The use of the word 'institutionalised' refers to the unconscious use of the word; the fact it was just accepted that people who participate in music therapy in all places and various ways should simply be considered to be one amalgamated whole, rather than the unique, context bound beings that they are.  'Power imbalance' referred to my belief that music therapy, as I practice it, is more of collaborative act than one directed by my superior understanding of a vulnerable person's needs. I use 'recipient' as suggestive of passivity on the part of the people who participate in music therapy, in contrast to the well-documented need for active commitment as fundamental to the success of therapy. 'Expert treatment' refers to the assumed use of a treatment model, which in my opinion is a very specific model involving formal stages of referral, assessment, goal setting, implementation of the planned activity, followed by evaluation of efficacy.

So, I had my issues with the relevance of the word client to the way I practice music therapy and perhaps even the way music therapy is practiced in many contexts informed by contemporary social policy.

Client is a convenient word however, and it is pragmatic to argue that replacing one word with what would potentially be four - person / people participating in music therapy - is both inefficient and confusing. However, I do recall the movement in the 1990s from language where people were described as 'autistic child' to 'child with autism', and at the time the change felt problematic for the same reason.  The importance of putting the person before the diagnosis seemed to make it worthwhile however, and it no longer feels cumbersome at all.

A problem with removing all connotations of power imbalance in music therapy was suggested by a colleague of mine, Jason Kenner, who pointed out that avoiding the reality that we have power in the relationship with our client is irresponsible. We are responsible for the music therapy context and committed to striving for therapeutic outcomes in relationship with our clients.  He suggests that by removing the recognition of this power, we may actually be disempowering ourselves and inadvertently relieving ourselves of responsibility within the therapeutic process. He feels that acknowledging our power helps us to be more responsible to the people we work with.

My own position is to emphasise mutual empowerment.  Perhaps my practice of music therapy is less effective than others, but my experience is that I am not able to take responsibility for the therapeutic outcomes; this is something I am enthusiastic about, and energetic towards, but not responsible for.  This is also in keeping with common factors research into the effectiveness of psychotherapy (Duncan, Miller, & Sparks, 2007).  If people do not wish to sing when I have suggested singing, there is only so much I can do.  If people choose to play, but not to discuss what they have played, I am often unable to convince them to do so.  Their agency is a critical dimension of the therapeutic encounter, combined with my capacity to create the conditions wherein the desire to participate can happen. 

Randi Rolvsjord (2010) elaborates her position on the concept of empowerment in the context of adult mental health, and I have a well-thumbed copy of her contribution to the topic and have commented on it previously (McFerran & Campbell, in-press). It has always confused me that she also likes to use the word client.  I have no doubt that she has been reflexive in considering this language, which reminds me about how important it is to consider the ways that words are used in different contexts.  Another heavily reflexive Norwegian, Brynjulf Stige (2002), points to Wittgenstein’s ideas to explain this contextualized use of language as it has come to be understood in the past century.  Perhaps words do not provide a direct mirror of reality, but rather point to meanings that are co-created in a given social context. Therefore it is easy to see that my use of the word client may be different to Randi and Jason’s use of it.

Another colleague, Grace Thompson, has been instrumental in influencing my own thinking on this topic, informed by her work in the Early Childhood Intervention sector where partnership with families has become the dominant model.   The sector has worked hard to illuminate implicit or explicit assumptions about the helper’s knowledge and resources being ‘superior’ to the local knowledge held by families (Davis, Day, & Bidmead, 2002, p. 47) and ultimately to provide alternative models to the expert helper.  The importance of collaborative relationships has been emphasized, and the use of language that suggests anything other than mutually empowering relationships has been considered detrimental to the success of the collaboration. 

This is obviously not a topic that is restricted to the music therapy profession.  A quick Google search reveals discussion on this topic from a range of fields and Jason Kenner discovered an article in psychiatry where ‘patient’ is reported to be the preferred language according to a sample of users/consumers/patients/clients in the UK (Simmons, Hawley, Gale, & Sivakumaran, 2010).   

My own conclusion is that the word client is convenient, simple and universally used within music therapy.  I continue to struggle with its relevance to my own work and cannot help but associate it with a classic treatment model that I no longer find useful.  However, I acknowledge that it may be the most appropriate term in some contexts.  In private practice, I can see that the word ‘client’ might be the most appropriate word, especially if the individual is paying for therapy.  In hospitals it makes sense that patient would be the preferred term, and I see no reason why a music therapist would introduce the use of the term client in contrast to that.  In education it is helpful to use the word student.  In work with young people in the community or in mental health care, another colleague, Cherry Hense, confirms that ‘young person’ is the preferred language in her institution.  I can see now see that it is just as inappropriate to reject the word ‘client’ as it is to accept it without conscious reflection.  My own issues with the word are local and grounded in my experiences of how that language is used and obviously this is not the same as other people’s experiences.  But I would argue that it requires due consideration and should not be a term that is used without critical reflection.  I guess I still don’t like it.




First Published on www.voices.no
McFerran, Katrina (20012). Who is my "Client" . Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved September 03, 2012, from http://www.voices.no/?q=fortnightly-columns/2012-who-my-client