Dear Rosie -

 

It is with gratitude that I write to you. You may remember my daughter, Kyndra, who attended your writing workshop at the First Baptist Church of Pompano homeschool group back in the spring.

 

This summer she desired to attend a piano camp held at a local university. I encouraged her to apply for a scholarship, which entailed:

1. Performing two piano pieces

2. Submitting an essay

 

The topic of the essay involved describing how the student might relate to and communicate with folks of a different culture - through music  - and - what music meant to the student.  I asked Kyndra to envision what the typical response of the other students might be, and then encouraged her to think "outside the Bachs," so to speak.  What culture was there that knows no geographical boundaries, but was a culture very familiar to her?

 

She grasped the idea quickly and began to write. However, much of her first effort had a clinical, nonpersonal, "tell me" ring to it. After reading her paper, I burst out, " What did Miss Rosie say?" With a knowledgeable grin, Kyndra answered, "SHOW me, don't tell me!"

 

Several drafts later, she came up with this essay:

 

Seven years ago, in the latticed framework of his cage, a small boy hears the murmuring voices outside escalate in volume. A massive mahogany lump with two flaming sticks jammed in the top is shoved in front of his face.  Just then, the crowd opens its mouth and booms out the resounding tune of “Happy Birthday.” The child shrieks and tries to escape. His blank, uncomprehending eyes dart across the tide of faces, ever searching, never connecting. The din is overwhelming to my brother, who is imprisoned by the cage of autism.

Autism is a unique culture. Those living within its borders have an inability to relate to others socially and are impaired in their communication and comprehension skills. They may utilize a limited vocabulary or simply echo what they hear. It is imperative that we find a way to communicate with these people who are unable to speak our language and share our culture.

How can music unlock their secret world? The use of songs has remarkable potential to enable individuals with autism to learn our spoken language. Several months ago, my nine-year-old brother silently escaped from our home in the middle of the night. My parents received a call from a police officer at 5:00 a.m. from the car dealership approximately a mile away. A lady had stopped and rung up the police station when she glimpsed a lone figure stumbling down the median of a six-lane boulevard! Fortunately, through music, my brother had learned to recite his telephone number and thus was able to communicate it to the officer. (Let it also be noted that a few well-placed locks have had a key role in preventing a recurrence of this scenario!)

Research tells us that music is an important tool in shaping appropriate social behaviors, providing awareness of others and assisting the autistic child in becoming more extroverted. In addition, it can promote eye contact between the individual and those within his social circle. Over time, my brother learned that singing “Happy Birthday” at family gatherings led to wondrous things (e.g., cake and ice cream!).

Persons with autism frequently have trouble comprehending their world, often requiring extreme structure and order in their daily lives. Because of this, they are liable to fall into ritualistic routines. If these routines in any way differ or change, tantrums or self-injurious behavior (hand biting, for example) may ensue. In my own brother’s case, we have found classical music (especially Vivaldi) to be a soothing and relaxing influence.

Finally, music affords a nonthreatening means of communication and self-expression. When he is singing, my brother can be a reflection of whom, deep down inside, he is and someday shall be.

Although I am not hampered by the fetters of autism, I nevertheless feel a certain need for order in my own life. Music for me provides structure, a place where I can relax and know that Chopin’s Grand Polonaise and Strauss’s Emperor Waltz will never change. I love to sing strong, catchy Broadway melodies with my sister, relishing the short time we have together before we Grow Up. Yet I also enjoy listening to lyric-less music, hearing what brilliant musicians have done to make their mark in the world, to emblazon their masterpiece on the vast musical score of time. And I wonder what they thought, and how they did it, and if I too, can do the same. Perhaps, if I listen, oh so closely, someday I can hear my answer in the music, because words are not always necessary to communicate.   

By Kyndra Jamison

Rosie, Kyndra was awarded a FULL scholarship to the camp even though she was only a third year student. The music department chair and one of the judges wept when they read the piece. The essay opened several doors at the university for Kyndra to get to know some of the department staff better. It really was an amazing experience for Kyndra.

We are thankful to the Lord, and grateful for all you have taught her (and me!)

May God continue to use you to inspire students (and parents) to better writing!

Barbara Jamison