Making Sweet Music
I don’t have much of a voice. And I don’t have much of an ear. But I do love to sing. It wasn’t always like that. Five years ago you couldn’t have persuaded me to sing out loud — not even karaoke after a couple of whiskey sours and with the support of a gaggle of sloppy, equally talentless friends. But then the simplest thing in the world changed all that. I had a child.
In the early days I would swaddle Hugo and together we’d attend group classes that offered much-needed support to new moms. Bleary-eyed mothers carrying small pink newborns would gather to share tales of the latest challenges – sleep deprivation, colic, and the installation of car seats. Then we would gather in a circle for a rousing round of Itsy Bitsy Spider. Well, almost all of us. I tended to lip-synch. The idea of singing out loud – even if just for the enjoyment of my child – seemed beyond daunting. Opening my mouth would cause glasses to shatter, airplanes to fall from the sky. It would make the other moms want to retract their toenails. These were women who had been up since 4AM — did I really want to risk a stampede?
Yet all the evidence that singing was good for babies was there. By February of 2006 Dr. Stephen Malloch had just completed a $163,000 three-year study at MARC’s Auditory Laboratories at Bankstown Campus in collaboration with the Royal Children’s Hospital of Melbourne. The goal? To find out what impact – if any — music might have on infants in intensive care. Forty infants were divided into three groups (hospitalized and receiving twelve sessions of music therapy; hospitalized without any music therapy; and healthy babies at home without any music therapy). Those who had been admitted to the hospital and had not received musical therapy experienced heightened levels of crying, increasing levels of irritability, and were overall less able to cope with their hospitalization. Not so for those who received music therapy.
Can music really make merry?
Developmental molecular biologist and New York Times bestselling author John Medina thinks so. In Medina’s latest book “Brain Rule for Babies”, he urges parents to make music a consistent part of a child’s experience. “Long-term musical exposure has been shown to greatly aid a child’s perception of other’s emotions. This in turn predicts your child’s ability to establish and maintain friendships.” And successful friendships, claims Medina, are what predict people’s happiness as they hurtle through life. “Friendships are a better predictor than any other single variable.”
Think it’s just good for kids? Think again — it’s good for you too. A study conducted by researchers from the University of Frankfurt Germany and published in the Journal of Behavioral Medicine tested choral members both before and after a rehearsal of Mozart’s Requiem. Scientists discovered elevated levels of immunoglobin A (proteins that function as antibodies) and hydrocortisone (a stress reducing chemical) post-concert.
Clearly this was something to sing about. So what was my problem? Like a lot of new moms, I was overcome with self-doubt upon becoming a parent – could I really do this? In spite of being an “older” parent, I had barely figured out how to care for myself when I gave birth. Given the state of my attire, I didn’t seem to be doing such a great job of that either. Putting my less than stellar voice out there for all the world to hear felt like an exercise in misery — and another way to prove that I had less control of my body than ever before.
But Itsy Bitsy Spider, and songs of its like, introduced me to the world of vocalizing while allowing me to practice in relative anonymity. Because there were so many of us joining in song, my voice — during those rare moments when I managed to squeak out a verse — blended in with those of others less inhibited. As a group, we were hardly the Pips, but then again, nobody expected us to be. There, in my group sit-in, with spit-up on our jeans and a slightly glazed look in our eyes, I finally realized that the last thing on anyone’s mind was whether or not we could collectively carry a tune. I wasn’t competing in Glee – there were no trophies. The only heart I was looking to win was that of my child.
From there on out, it was a simple fa-so-la-ti-da to singing to Hugo on my own, in the car, while making dinner, at bedtime. In fact, I’ve become quite a crooner. I enjoy hearing our voices meld with world music from Putumayo Kids, the rocking tunes of They Might Be Giants, or classic lullabies. I could have gone a lifetime without singing – and my son and I would have been all the poorer for it. Although music is usually thought of as entertainment, when it comes right down to it, making beautiful music – especially with a child — has little to do with how it sounds, and everything to do with how it feels.
Suzanne Beal is a mom, the Editor in Chief of Little One Books, and vocal advocate for singing in and out of the shower.
