Who did you, as a young child, dreaming of becoming a music therapist, revere?
Okay, let’s try this again: How many famous musical therapists can you name? Umm…. Fiddling Freud? Yodeling Jung? Percussionist Pavlov (pant-pant). Didn’t think so. (And just by the way, you don’t have to play an instrument in order to become a music therapist, but we’ll get to that later.)
So, now that we’ve come to the conclusion that the career of music therapy hasn’t historically been filled with famous people, when you tell people that you’re a music therapist, there will bound to be questions. “What does that mean?” “Who does it help?” “Do you and your patients sing to each other to communicate?” (Tell them your office is set up like an opera stage, and either you or your patient dress up as the fat lady with the horns. That’ll get the conversation moving.)
But really, while folks may find your choice of work interesting, it’s the people you help and those whom they love who’ll find your work more than “interesting.” If you’re good at what you do, they’ll find your work invaluable and helpful in making their lives better and fuller. There are things more valuable than fame.