CONNECTED BY SOUND: “WHERE WORDS FAIL, MUSIC SPEAKS”
VG writer and Mental Health Nurse, Claire Rothwell discusses the power of music on the mind, both professionally and personally.
I love people. As Kristin Scott Thomas puts it so beautifully, “People are all we’ve got”. Her cameo as Belinda in Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s masterpiece ‘Fleabag’ felt like it reached right out the screen and punched me in the heart when I finally watched it during that first lockdown, ever late to join the party. As such, I consider myself extremely fortunate, because my job allows me the privilege of meeting new people almost every day. I am a mental health nurse and although I recently returned to working with adults, I spent the last 4 years predominantly working with children and young people.
I think teenagers, especially, are amazing. The mental and physical transition through these tender years can be nothing short of brutal. That savage embarrassment and awkwardness of navigating the world while trying to carve your own identity within it, fuelled by burning self-doubt, is something that many of us would shudder to remember. In addition to this cocktail of hormones and insecurity, today's teenagers are a generation of youth exposed to more trauma, tragedy and internet drama than I ever could have imagined when I was at that point in my life. Social media has its positive sides, but the darker aspects can impact young people deeply. I consider my own experiences of navigating the world as a teenage girl and often ponder the things I would tell my past self, with all my (supposed) gained worldly adult wisdom I have since developed. I probably actually wouldn’t tell past me anything, just go back and freak her out - pretend I was a ghost or say the robots have taken over. I mean, they sort of have, really, haven’t they?
When I’m meeting a young person (or anybody) at work for the first time, I think it’s really important to make them feel at ease, and I try to do this by finding some common ground. Generally, nine times out of ten, that common ground is music (I do try to squeeze cats in there somewhere – but it can be hit and miss). Music connects us. I think about some of the young people I’ve met throughout my career; how they so often present themselves as less than they are – selling themselves short in regard to their personality and their ability. I greet them at the beginning, with their heads stooped low, avoiding eye contact, avoiding everyone, avoiding everything. “What music are you into?” A simple opener that can lead to so many paths and that has the ability to change the flow and direction of the conversation like no other. I can’t lie, hitting my 30’s has truly made me feel like a pensioner in a lot of respects, and I am guilty of having to use my trusty friend Google to discover who the hell they were on about, but it gives us both a laugh and more importantly – something to work with.
When I consider how the use of music has aided me in my role as a valuable tool for engagement, I can't help but feel a sense of unease at how it fairs pretty low on the hierarchy of conventional ‘treatments’ for mental health. Research is continually progressing and demonstrating how effective more creative and varied methods of supporting people to recovery can be, but it's still not fully recognised or acknowledged in many respects. I raised this point with a friend, who also works with young people and used to run music groups for a local mental health charity. They described it as being “a way of bringing people together in a non-threatening environment, where they are able to learn, by sharing skills as part of a team, communicating and creating things while listening and respecting each other's experiences.” Again, like myself but on a much greater level, they witnessed the transformative process that music has on people. They talked about the teenagers coming along to the group, with no prior experience of playing any instrument - but readily thrashing out beats on a drum kit, or writing pages of lyrics based on their experiences or emotions. They were able to release those feelings from inside and translate them into something tangible, and something they could begin to make sense of.
In July 2020, the Office for National Statistics conducted a study which specifically explored how the pandemic had impacted the mental health of children and young people. It highlighted a clear increase in the prevalence of young people experiencing mental health difficulties, and more than half of those identified reported that lockdown had negatively impacted their life. Sadly, despite the efforts of our incredible NHS, resources are capped and services have to work within their boundaries, which I absolutely understand. Considering these worrying statistics, I wondered whether a lack of access to live music and the community that it provides has played some small part? A while back, I read an interesting article which presented research around how music can actually change our mood and the way our brain responds to situations - I’m sure we’ve all been transported back in time after hearing a certain song, and maybe even experienced some of the same physical sensations, like the taste of cheap (but expensive) cider or the smell of putrid portaloos at festivals. The mind is a powerful thing and I believe that the way it responds to music is nothing short of magic (or science, although I’d argue they’re essentially the same). There is no rush like getting all of those happy brain chemicals when watching an artist you love play live, and trying to squeeze yourself so close to the front that you can actually see every hair follicle on the head of the person standing in front of you. RIP pre-2020 life.
On a more personal level, music has always been a fun-da-mental (if you said that like RuPaul then high-5) part of my life, and has provided some much needed escapism when the hard times have hit. My dad raised me on a diet of Bowie, Blondie and The Beatles. He also introduced me to my “guilty” pleasure, Meatloaf (they are a fallacy – like what you like and roll with it!). When I first met the other members of the VOCAL GIRLS team and we were asked to mention a song that describes ourselves, I was instantly filled with panic and Meatloaf was one of the first to pop into my head. I used to lie awake in my parents’ house, much to their annoyance, listening to him warble through the headphones of my CD Walkman and unashamedly sing along loudly to every one of his ridiculously long tracks. I was not a cool teenager!
- Claire Rothwell
This led me to consider music as a whole; now that I’m an (allegedly) maturing woman, I adore discovering new artists and shazaming new songs from 6Music and I look at my little, slowly growing collection of records the same way that a new mother looks upon her new litter of kittens; you can stroke them gently but put them back the way you found them or I will hiss at you and gouge your eyes out. Despite this fact, we don’t have to believe in the concept of music being “cool” to be able to belong to something. The ‘music club’ is open to everyone. Free entry and no ID required. Whether you’re into an underground indie band, a rapper I’ve never heard of, or a girl band who made it big from a talent show, I hear you and I’m with you. Listening to music LOUD and dancing around the house is one of the few things that has kept me sane over the last 12 months, and I know a lot of people have made similar comments. We needed to shout at the top of our voice to some angry punk to release our frustration, dance in our pants to 80’s euro pop on a Friday evening to shake off the week or have a mellow moment of sadness to a beautiful, slow, tinkly piano number. Whatever you’ve listened to during lockdown, as long as it got you through the time you needed it to, then it’s done its job.
We are currently living in a world that none of us predicted or prepared for. The shops are shut, the cinemas are shut, the restaurants are shut, the bars are shut and it’s the tiny things we took for granted that we’ve been missing. The Government’s recent announcement has already caused a buzz of excitement, as we all start to attend imaginary gigs with friends - meeting first for a drink in the pub, before heading to the sticky, sweaty venue and jumping around together, spilling pints we no longer moan about paying above the odds for. Ever the optimist, I’ve already bought gig tickets for this year and I live in hope that circumstances will allow me to be there, and for the artists to be able to return to work and do what they do best - provide us all with our much needed hit of dopamine.
But for now, it’s still all a bit odd, isn't it? And it’s completely okay to feel weird or confused about it. As someone who has spent the majority of the lockdowns sharing their home with only creatures of the furry and four legged kind (have I mentioned that I love cats?), I think it’s important to acknowledge the positive influence that music has had in getting me – and I think a lot of us, through this time. I’ll end on a quote from Hans Christian Andersen, who was a member of the LGBTQ+ community – “Where words fail, music speaks”.
Need to talk to someone?
Lockdown has impacted us all in different ways. Music is always there, and so is someone who will listen.
Text SHOUT to 85258 - Free, confidential and anonymous text support. See https://giveusashout.org/ for more information.
SAMARITANS - A volunteer led service who can be the ear you need. Click https://www.samaritans.org/ or call 116 123 free of charge, from any phone.
PAPYRUS Prevention of Young Suicide - Aimed at children and young people up to the age of 35. See their website for information leaflets, self-help resources and learn more about how they can support you or a loved one: https://www.papyrus-uk.org/
They also offer free, confidential telephone support via their HOPELINE: 0800 068 4141
MIND - Are a mental health charity who provide information, resources and signposting information about mental health. https://www.mind.org.uk/