Thanks for responding, everyone!

KT: here's another possible idea for you, if you play a guitar or another instrument that this could apply to. I often play "cooperative guitar" with Maggie, one of the folks here at L'Arche. She doesn't sing, but there are clearly some songs that are her favourites. What we do is sit facing each other; I hold the guitar and fret the chords to one of her favourite songs, and she does the strumming. If she stops strumming, I stop singing, then continue the song when she starts again (my idea is that this will give her incentive to keep the rhythm up, as well as give her the sense that she is doing the singing: although it's my voice, it only comes out in direct response to her actions).

My little nieces and nephews enjoy cooperative guitar as well.

McGrath: Tell you more about L'Arche? What do you want to know? Our community's homepage is www.larchecapebreton.com (and anybody! If you're coming to Cape Breton, do drop by - we're close to the TransCanada - and bring your instruments.)

Thanks for making me think harder about nomenclature. Your philosophy makes sense to me: that attitude is more important than terminology, but since you have to use terms you should try to use the most acceptable one to the people most directly affected. I wouldn't call somebody Dave if it was evident that he preferred David - but in the absence of such evidence, I assume that there's nothing offensive about Dave. I thought that "mentally handicapped" was as generally acceptable as Dave, but if you say that's not so I'll have to investigate further.

I just checked L'Arche's constitution and the term there is "mentally challenged". Here at L'Arche Cape Breton we call the people in question "core members" in theory and "folks" in practice.

Musicman: thanks for the music therapy link. I had read it in the past and I imagined that when I had been at L'Arche this long, I would be adding to that thread and saying wise things about how my musical life was affecting the folks. Instead, I had to start a new thread about how the folks' musical life was affecting me.

This brings me to lessons number 5 and 6 that I didn't have time to write up last time.

5. I have learned something about what a music therapist is. Let me tell you about Eric, another assistant here who sings and plays guitar and bodhran. As much fun as my jams with the folks are, it's a whole other world when he's around. My muse makes me dance and play and sing - and those who are so inclined join in with me - but his muse makes everybody in the place dance and play and sing. He has a great gift for passing around the shakers and harmonicas and whistles and spoons and getting everybody involved, and you can feel the party ending when Eric has to leave. But he just laughed when I told him he should be a music therapist - the thing is that he can't read a note, doesn't know what makes a major chord different from a minor chord, and didn't know that chords tend to come in 1-4-5-6minor combinations until I told him. In the past I've looked at a few school's music therapy programs, and you had to be accepted as a degree student in music (meaning some level of expertise on a classical instrument) and then you could specialize in music therapy if you had finished certain grades in piano and guitar. So in spite of his social gifts and intuitive handle on music, I don't think he'll be getting into any music therapy program anytime soon. Three chords, the truth, and the right kind of beer moistening your bodhran won't cut it.

I suppose if he really wanted he could learn to read, learn classical piano and guitar, and learn theory to become an official music therapist. But I think that he already is a music therapist - that three chords, a bit of love, and a bit of Guinness can be just as powerful as highly informed and skilled music.

And I think of myself - I don't have Eric's social gifts or his ability to play spontaneously by ear (which I'm sure would be very helpful to a music therapist), but I like to think that I have done a little good in people's lives with my musical efforts. Besides Maggie and the other L'Archeniks that I play with now, I have often taken my instruments to the homes of elderly/shut-in people to bring them some cheer. My father died in January, and his last few weeks were divided between extreme confusion and a coma; I sang his favourites to him for hours, and at other times put on a tape of himself leading a sing-a-long at a local nursing home (something he did faithfully for over twenty years. Actually I learned a lot about the power of music from my father - but that's another post).

So can I call myself an unofficial music therapist? And do I have any hope of becoming an official music therapist? I wonder if the two schools I looked at were bad examples and you don't really have to be a highly skilled classical musician to get into a music therapy program.

5. I have learned that I don't really want to be the best musician around. Eric is leaving in a couple of weeks, and besides being sad at the departure of a friend I find that I am not looking forward to having to do without him musically. At community events, he plays the guitar and I play the fiddle - but when he's gone I'll have to play the guitar myself, because the guitar is necessary and the fiddle is a luxury for our purposes, even though my heart is more in the fiddle. Also, I will miss having a superior musician around to teach and inspire me and force me to keep broadening my horizons.

Mudcatters, forget my invitation to come visit - instead I want you to come move in here!

Marion