Here we are. Hello everyone. I'm Paolo Caneva and you're listening to A Light-Hearted Journey Through Music Therapy — a podcast dedicated, of course, to music therapy. Today is Tuesday, May 19th, and in this twentieth episode I'll share out loud a few reflections tied to the professional recognition of those who do music therapy… reflections that, obviously, represent only and solely my own point of view — a point of view often "unusual" compared with the traditional discussions you find around.
After seventy days of work stoppage, since yesterday we've been living the pleasant frenzy of the restart: everyone is reopening, and it's a lovely feeling after so long. As for me, though, I can only watch this "ferment". My work won't be starting yet. The three care homes where I do music therapy are still in an understandable state of "alert", and for an unspecified time the service will remain suspended. But this isn't the subject I want to talk about today…
…in this episode I don't want to dwell on unemployment or "complex" financial management. No, no… I think you'll all agree with me if I say that, at times like these, anyone is more than justified in thinking "guilty thoughts"… thoughts that need to find a "scapegoat"… the kind where, if we're lucky, we unleash our frustration on institutions or people who, in our view, perhaps promised, deceived, deluded and then "dropped" us into a desert-like music therapy solitude… and so come the thoughts tied to a profession with no safety net… or rather, to a profession that doesn't exist… to a job that no one recognizes… and so on. But if we're unlucky, we aim those guilty thoughts at ourselves, and start doubting distant choices, rethinking alternatives… "why on earth didn't I become a hairdresser"; "…my father always said I should look for a real job, not this weird stuff…". And if we don't aim them at ourselves, we aim these thoughts at our colleagues… "…no wonder nobody calls me to work… as long as there are colleagues who accept 7 euros an hour and put on music with an mp3 player!!!", "…and who gave her a music therapy diploma?", "…surely that stuff that guy is showing on YouTube isn't music therapy… eh?"
In short, I think that on days like today one thing emerges forcefully — something that federations, confederations, associations, consortia, institutions and registers try to "smooth over", "contain", "mask", "correct", "discipline": namely, the marvellous "volatility" of the craft we do.
Ladies and gentlemen: we have the good fortune to "inhabit impermanence as a profession"… what more could we want? Do we miss a permanent post? do we miss the chance to sit a public competition and become a state employee? do we miss recognition? do we miss a "clinician's" salary? do we miss the certainty of evidence-based practice? do we miss the chance to wear a white coat and have people address us with the prefix "Dr."? do we miss being recognized within the National Health Service? do we miss the VAT exemption for healthcare services? Do we miss all of this?… well then… let's thank the pandemic that has made us aware of all this… now we've cleared away every last doubt; we'd misunderstood when we enrolled; from tomorrow, we change jobs!!!!
I'll stop here. We'll hear each other again on Tuesday, May 26th, with a new episode of A Light-Hearted Journey Through Music Therapy.