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Bono once said, "Music can change the world because it can change people." Many of us have experienced how music can shift our mood, perspective, or even deepen our sense of connection. For some, it’s a song that lifts them from a low point, for others, it might bring them closer to loved ones. In healthcare settings, music can transform not only the atmosphere but also the quality of care itself. I learned this firsthand when, during my father’s final days, my family used music to support him. We sang together to create a sense of calm, even as his medications dulled his awareness. The music allowed us to communicate and connect in a way that words alone could not. It softened the clinical nature of the hospital environment, making it a space of comfort rather than just medical procedure. Those moments had a profound impact on me, shaping my career and commitment to integrating music in healthcare spaces. For over 20 years, I’ve been dedicated to improving care through music as part of the Room 217 Foundation. We work to empower caregivers - whether paid professionals, family members or volunteers - to use music in a way that enhances the care experience. Initially, we created music tools designed to target specific care outcomes. Over time, we expanded to include training for caregivers, helping them incorporate music into everyday practice. Our latest initiative, MUSIC CARE CERTIFY (MCC), goes a step further. MCC is a comprehensive program that integrates music into the organizational culture of health and social care environments. By embedding music as a core component of care, we ensure it is sustained and becomes part of the organization’s long-term operations. One of the most powerful aspects of MCC is its focus on quality improvement. We don’t just introduce music into care settings—we measure its impact. Change isn’t just hoped for; it’s demonstrated and quantified. One standout example is the Alzheimer Society Peel (ASP), the first Canadian organization to receive MUSIC CARE Certification. This community-based organization, which serves individuals with Alzheimer’s and their families, sought to improve its acoustic environment as part of a broader commitment to enhancing care. Through a series of collaborative sound-based interventions, ASP implemented four key sound goals, evaluated through pre- and post-assessments and staff surveys. The results were compelling: Client engagement in activities increased by 75% Client wandering decreased by 40% Staff stress levels were reduced by 50% The success of this initiative underscores the tangible, measurable benefits that music can bring to care settings—improving both the experience for clients and reducing the burden on staff. In this blog series, we’ll delve deeper into Room 217’s MUSIC CARE CERTIFY as a transformative program for health and social care organizations. We’ll explore how music is not a disruptive force, but a framework for meaningful, sustainable change. With case studies from a variety of care settings across Canada, we’ll showcase how embedding music in care culture improves quality of life for all involved. Imagine a care environment where music is always accessible, integrated, and sustained! This is the future we’re working toward. Music isn’t just an art form; it’s a catalyst for measurable change in health and wellbeing. Care leaders have the power to make that change a reality within their organization. Over the next few months, our Key Change blog series will explore how the transformative power of music can improve the care experience and create lasting impact across Canada’s health and social systems. Want to learn more about MUSIC CARE CERTIFY? Come to our free, online, 45-minute Discovery session on Wednesday February 26 – 2 pm EDT. Contact Tanya for more information talbis@room217.ca
It was two years, two months and 16 days ago that my mother was told that she had vascular dementia. The brain scans indicated she had suffered some strokes that had resulted in permanent changes to her brain. Her geriatrician suggested to her that she should consider not driving any more and that she begin to make arrangements for increased support if she wanted to stay in her own home. I could hardly believe these words; they seemed impossible, a mistake, a joke, perhaps something that this doctor told all her patients. My mum continued to be the most intelligent person I knew. I depended on her opinions, her feedback and her perspective on almost every aspect of my life. I knew my brother felt the same; he would take her through the minutia of his decisions, his financial planning, house purchases, and the plans he and his wife had for their children during their long weekly phone calls from Vancouver. My mum had spent one year taking care of his daughter during a year abroad in Florida where she studied dance at a ballet academy, a crucial step towards her present career as a dancer with the Stuttgart Ballet in Germany. Similarly, she took care of my own daughter when she moved up to Collingwood, Ontario to train as an elite cross-country skier with the Ontario Nordic Ski Team, racing at a national level. My sister’s life was equally intertwined with mum’s. Her family bought a cottage in the village our mum retired to, a sleepy, enchanted summer paradise, perched on the cliffs above Lake Huron, world famous for its sunsets. We all enjoyed long summers together, taking turns hosting family dinners, entertaining, laughing, swimming and enjoying the beach. We were a family who benefitted from the commanding presence of a brilliant, captivating, beautiful and inspiring matriarch. My mother truly was the centre of our large, bustling, extremely vibrant family with her three children who adored her and nine grandchildren who considered her as their beloved “Gabby”. I read and reread the doctor’s scrawled notes that day, with her recommendations for everything from further testing to commentary on the accompanying brain scans. I had dozens of questions: would her dementia progress quickly? Would this mean her independence was coming to an end? Should she live with one of us? What happens next? How can we help her, preserve her dignity, save her? Exactly two days later, on a cold and dark November night at 11:00 pm, she fell on the steps to her porch after walking her little Pomeranian. This fall represented the onset of a rapid decline in just about every marker of her wellbeing. After 2 weeks in and out of the hospital she came out a very different person. She was consumed by the pain from her back injury, was extremely confused from hospital induced delirium, and on heavy pain medication. What now? My sister asked. Nursing care, the doctor responded. We had absolutely no road map for how to proceed, all of us anxious, bereft, and completely at a loss. I cared for my mum over the next five months at our home, loving her, physically rehabilitating her, until we secured a place for her at a beautiful independent living senior’s residence in Toronto, near the neighbourhood she grew up in Rosedale. She is in a small apartment and has made some wonderful friends and receives the most loving care from the caregivers and staff. Mum has had her ups and downs, her dementia continues to progress, notably more significantly after an illness. Despite this being her greatest fear prior to her diagnosis, mum still lives a life that she values and has gratitude for, each day. She loves our visits and the continued devotion and love of her grandchildren. She has regained her hearty laugh and love of conversation she shares with new friends in her new community and she adores the twice weekly music concerts at her seniors home. She promises us that she intends to be sticking around for some time, excited to see how the lives of her grandchildren she has been so invested in continue to unfold, their careers and their romances. Despite struggling with memory, especially short term, her vocabulary is still superior to mine as she artfully constructs her sentences for maximum impact. During my last visit with her, I had to remind her of today’s date and that she was approaching her 89 th birthday, but she sang an entire verse of a song from “Me and My Gal” and correctly remarked, “this is definitely Chopin” that we were listening to on her speaker. Dementia is a cruel, cruel disease, but my advice to anyone whose loved one is suffering from it, is to remain there to witness, love and appreciate the essence that is there, within the confusion, to find that essence, be present with it, let it comfort you, and hold it dearly, with gratitude, every single day.
Memory, Dementia, music and dementia, music care, musical care, singing, singing for dementia, singing for the brain
A growing concern among both recreational and clinical staff in long-term care (LTC) is the health and wellness of men in care. Health professionals have long recognized that men, both in and out of care, tend to experience lower overall health profiles compared to women. RESEARCH widely acknowledges that sex and gender intersect with factors like race, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, disability, and age to shape individual health outcomes. Notably, men face unique challenges when it comes to health and wellness. Globally, men are outlived by women in all settings, a phenomenon known as the male– –female health-survival paradox The Male-Female Health-Mortality Paradox | SpringerLink . This disparity highlights the need for gender-specific approaches to healthcare, as men’s health is increasingly recognized as a public health concern. Researchers and policymakers are working to understand the roots of these inequalities, with many pointing to social norms and behaviors formed in adolescence. We are familiar with stereotypes about men engaging in higher-risk activities, from motorcycle riding to nicotine addiction. However, one of the most significant factors affecting men’s health and longevity is their tendency to have fewer and less robust social connections compared to women. Women generally participate in social forums where they express emotions more freely, while men, historically, have been less likely to depend on social groups or engage in regular emotional expression. This can lead to isolation, which negatively impacts both mental and physical health. One promising approach to addressing social isolation among men is through men’s musicking. Music has always provided a way for men to come together—whether through singing, playing instruments, or participating in music listening groups. From male choirs like the Maesteg Choir in Scotland, to garage bands playing for the sheer joy of it, music offers a safe, non-threatening environment for men to gather, share memories, and express emotions, even if only subtly. Our September webinar presenter and partner, Gertrude Letourneau, shared a powerful story from her work in a long-term care home. One resident, a veteran, asked for permission to sing in his home language, which happened to be German. Being deeply sensitive to the other veterans he lived with, he began to sing which prompted an incredible emotional release of grief, tears, regret, reflection and sorrow. Menno Place, a recent graduate of our CERTIFY for ORGANIZATION program, discovered through their own research that hosting a vinyl record listening hour provided a powerful way to engage self-isolating men. This nostalgic activity brought men out of their rooms and into a safe, non-judgmental space where they could share memories, relive the joy of past entertainers, and reflect on times gone by. The program bridged generational gaps, allowing them to swap stories with the younger caregivers. Linda Weatherly, Manager of Therapeutic Recreation and Volunteer Services at Menno Place in Abbotsford, British Columbia, recalled that some conversations became quite lively, even veering into “racy” territory at times. However, this openness was precisely what was needed—creating a space where the men felt comfortable being themselves and expressing what they needed to. The program, known as Men’s Musicking, became much more than a listening hour. It was a catalyst for cognitive stimulation, sparking memories and conversations that promoted social interaction and emotional expression. The long-term effects of this initiative remain to be seen, but for now, we can applaud the creative and innovative leadership of people like Linda, who are using music to address some of the most pressing concerns in healthcare today.
Did you know that ADHD is one of the most common neurodevelopmental disorders in Canada? According to the Centre for ADHD Awareness, it affects 4-6% of adults and 5-7% of children or approximately 1.8 million Canadians. This means 1 in every 21 Canadians has the disorder. So what is ADHD? ADHD stands for Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder. The DSM-V defines symptoms of ADHD as inattention, hyperactivity and impulsivity. Inattention might include failure to pay attention to detail and difficulty focusing and following through tasks. Hyperactivity might include excessive fidgeting and movement not appropriate to the situation, while impulsivity may include difficulty with turn taking or blurting something out. ADHD can be defined as a predominantly inattentive, hyperactive/impulsive or combined presentation, and often persists into adulthood. However sometimes the diagnosis is missed in childhood leading to a diagnosis later in life. Persons with ADHD have lower levels of the neurotransmitter dopamine. Dopamine is involved in attention and memory, movement, reward and motivation. A study from Lyon University found that listening to the music you like will increase the release of dopamine from your brain. Curious to know more about how music can support persons with ADHD? Well, music is often used to practice attention skills. Attention can be broken down into four types: sustained, selective/focused, alternating and divided. Did you know that learning to play an instrument can help develop different memory and attention skills? For example, while playing piano you have to sustain your attention on the task, alternate your attention between the music and your hands, as well as divide your attention between the treble and bass clef. If you catch yourself playing a wrong note, you might also pause to practice the passage. Other examples of attention exercises might include responding to different musical cues with music and movement. For example, to practice selective/focused attention a music therapist might have the client drum along to a beat with distractions in the background and a distinct musical cue that indicates stop and start. Another example of an alternating attention exercise might look like clapping if you hear the drum and swaying if you hear the guitar - this requires you to switch your focus between two different sources! Overall, attention exercises are important for improving focus on tasks, filtering out distractions and multitasking. Persons with ADHD often struggle with executive function. Executive function is our ability to plan, organize and make decisions etc. Research suggests that music therapy can improve executive functioning. Improvisational music playing and musical composition can help a client work on these skills in a pleasurable and motivating environment! In order to create a musical composition you have to plan and organize the structure, making decisions about your creation along the way. Finally music can also help with stress management and emotion regulation. Music and progressive muscle relaxation or movement can help calm the body and mind, as well as get rid of excess fidgeting. Improvisational music playing, listening and creating can also provide a means of self-expression in order to regulate one’s emotions. No matter your age - music can help improve attention, reduce hyperactivity and create pleasurable experiences for persons with ADHD.
“Good morning everyone! My name is Kaitlyn and I am so excited to be here with you all on this fine Tuesday...I’m going to sing you a song. If you know the words, feel free to sing along or just move to the music. It’s by an artist who most you probably know named Elvis Presley...and it has a little something to do with love.” Now in the second year of my music therapy internship at the University of Toronto , that introduction is one I’ve given many times at a practicum placement in long-term care. I can still remember that first morning last September like it was yesterday. After the temperature checks and the Covid tests we made our way through the winding halls to a back room. Residents were gathered in a circle playing games, patiently waiting for their next activity to start. Now I’ve been in long-term care homes before, probably more times than I can count. But never on this side. Never like this. A new music therapy intern, here to help and learn. I have two grandmothers with Alzheimer’s Disease so it probably wasn’t a surprise to anyone that I ended up here. As I witnessed the deterioration of my loved ones firsthand, I also experienced the profound influence that music continued to have in their lives. On the most difficult days, music continues to be our sole form of communication. When I play songs that remind them of their loved ones, their favorite Italian opera singer or the nursery rhymes they used to sing to me as a child, it sparks a connection between us, even if just for a moment. At that time in my life, I was completing a Bachelor of Music at the University of Toronto, and if I’m being honest, I struggled. I was in a constant state of stress, anxiety and fear, worried that I would never be enough as a musician. All the stress and pressure I had put on myself to succeed as a musician had tainted my relationship with music and my ability to share it with others. The thing that I had once loved, was no longer a source of joy, but a source of pain. Towards the end of my degree I discovered music therapy. Bev Foster even came to one of my classes to talk about Room 217 and her story. New to the world of music and health, I decided to jump in headfirst and apply for a masters in neurologic music therapy. From that first day of school I was in love, but I was also terrified. Terrified of making a mistake, terrified of making the wrong decision. The stakes seemed higher now. The music seemed to matter more now. All those insecurities that had become second nature during my undergraduate degree started to build up again, until one day I noticed they weren’t there anymore. Each time I worked with a client, that fear, anxiety and uncertainty started to chip away. As I learned about their families, their careers and their passions I began to share in their successes and they shared in mine. I developed relationships with others like I’d never known. Relationships that made saying goodbye at the end of the year oh so difficult. After months of working with others, I still hadn’t played for my own grandmothers. And if I’m being honest, it’s because I was scared. While I often sang along to recorded music with them, I had never accompanied myself on an instrument. This year I played music for all sorts of people. Why couldn’t I just play music for the people in my life? For the ones in my life who needed it the most? A couple of months ago I played for one of my grandmother’s in long-term care. Just us and my guitar. Finding music therapy not only allowed me to help others, but it helped me find myself again. To find my voice, my passion and the love I have for sharing my musical gifts with others. It reminded me why I even chose to pursue music in the first place. My grandmother doesn’t care if I play a wrong note or if I sound a little flat. She just cares that I’m there. She cares that I’m with her and for a moment, it’s just us. And even though she has lost the ability to use her words and she hasn’t remembered who I am in a very long time, I know that she loves and cherishes this time together. I watch her foot tap to the music, I feel her hands squeeze mine, and I know she is with me. At the end of every visit I always ask her for a kiss. I bring my cheek to her face and say “Dammi un bacio?” She kisses me every time. All I ever wanted to do was to make people happy with music. I wanted them to experience the same love and joy that music brought to my life. So as I enter my final year of study to become a neurologic music therapist, these are the things that I will keep with me. When those fears and insecurities try to creep in, I will remind myself of where I came from and where I’m going. I will remind myself of the people I am doing this for. Myself. My loved ones. The people I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet. There’s a lot of things to be scared of, but helping others with music like it has helped me, isn’t one of them. At least not anymore. Room 217 was part of my journey to becoming a music therapist. To this day I still have the pamphlet Bev handed out in that class. Her story inspired me . It reminded me why I wanted to use music to help others. It can be difficult to help our loved ones, to know where to start, especially when it comes to using music. The beauty of Room 217 is that it gives us that starting place, guides and supports us as we gain confidence with music in care. So wherever you are in your journey, know that it’s never too late to start to incorporate music into your life, your care visits. While you may or may not become a music therapist, all of us can access music as a means of care for ourselves and others. For more information on becoming a music therapist, visit the Canadian Association of Music Therapists www.musictherapy.ca .
Articles
Cahill, L. et al, (2004). Adrenergic activation and memory for emotional events. Nature. Oct. 20; 371 (2499):702-4
Clair, A.A. (2002). The effects of music therapy on engagement in family caregiver and care receiver couples with dementia. American Journal of Alzheimer’s Disease and Other Dementias, 17(5), 286-290.
Cuddy, L., Duffin, J., (2004). Music, memory and Alzheimer’s disease: is music recognition spared in dementia and how can it be assessed? Medical Hypotheses (2005) 64, 229-235.
Kitwood, T. (1997). The experience of dementia. Ageing & Mental Health, 1(1), 13-22.
Kontos, P. & Martin, W. (2013). Embodiment and dementia: Exploring critical narratives of selfhood, surveillance, and dementia care. Dementia, 12(3), 288-302.
McDermott, O., Orrell, M., & Ridder, H.M. (2014). The importance of music for people with dementia: the perspectives of people with dementia, family carers, staff, and music therapists. Aging & Mental Health, 18(6), 706-716.
Osman, S.E., Tischler, V., & Schneider, J. (2014). ‘Singing for the brain’: A qualitative study exploring the health and well-being benefits of singing for people with dementia and their carers. Dementia, 0(0), 1-14
Sarkamo, T., Laitinen, S., Tervaniemi, M., Numminen, A., Kurki, M., & Rantanen, P. (2012). Music, emotion, and dementia: Insight from neuroscientific and clinical research. Music and Medicine, 4(3), 153-162.
Sixsmith, A. & Gibson, G. (2007). Music and the wellbeing of people with dementia. Ageing & Society, 27, 127-145.
Volicer, L. (1997). Goals of care in advanced dementia: comfort, dignity, and psychological well-being. American Journal of Alzheimer’s Disease, 12, (5), 196-197.
Books
Aldridge, D., (ed.) (2000). Music therapy in Dementia care. London, UK: Jessica Kingsley Publishers
Baldwin, C., & Capstick, A. (Eds.). (2007). Tom Kitwood on dementia: A reader and critical commentary. Berkshire, EN: Open University Press.
Killick, J., & Craig, C. (2012). Creativity and communication in persons with dementia: A practical guide. London, UK: Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
Snyder, B., (2000). Music and Memory. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press.
Volicer, L., & Bloom-Charette, L. (Eds.). (1999). Enhancing the quality of life in advanced dementia. Philadelphia, PA: Taylor & Francis.
Links
Alzheimer Knowledge Exchange Resource Centre
http://brainxchange.ca/public/home.aspx
Alzheimer's Association (USA)
www.alz.org
Alzheimer's Society of Canada
www.alzheimer.ca
Canadian Association of Gerontology
www.cagacg.ca
Canadian Dementia Knowledge Translation Network CDKTN
www.lifeandminds.ca
Murray Alzheimer Research Education Programme MAREP
www.marep.uwaterloo.ca
Raffi's Child Honouring Organization
www.childhonouring.org
The Canadian Health Network
www.canadianhealthcarenetwork.ca
Is sponsored by Health Canada with partnerships of many Canadian health care organizations.
The Central Dementia Network, Toronto
www.dementiatoronto.org
University Health Network
http://www.uhn.ca/
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