Derrington 2012 thesis.pdf - Anglia Ruskin Research Online

Vignette 4.8
For one student at The Centre School, who I shall call Rose, 14, the
whiteboard became the focus of many sessions when playing instruments just
did not seem possible. She was referred because of her very low self-esteem
and poor social skills. She was quick to make the most of her time playing
music, improvising and working out musical effects. Then, towards the end of
the first year of therapy, her mother died. Over the weeks Rose’s behaviour
became erratic and dangerous and there was grave concern for her welfare. At
that time she was attending music therapy twice a week and she needed to fill
almost every moment of every session listening to very loud, recorded music
whilst drawing on the board. She never missed a session and clearly trusted
the therapy space but she no longer wanted to touch the instruments. All I
could do was to be consistent and respond genuinely.
Setting up the amplifier and all four large speakers to their maximum volume,
pop music blared out session after session. There was little way to engage
with her in conversation although I did try and this occasionally resulted in a
game with the volume control where she turned it down, as if to allow me
airspace and then turned it back up just as I started to speak. Through such
games though, however short, I was able to regularly achieve a meeting point
with her in all the chaos and din. It reassured me that she knew I was sharing
the noise and confusion and that I was always listening.
The turning point came when the song ‘Can’t Get You Out of My Head’
(Minogue, 2001) was playing. Rose had covered the board in drawings and,
looking at one sketch (shown in figure 4.4.6), told me that her mother was
always in her head: “What a shame we don’t have brains like computers with
a button you press for shut down”.
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