Why It Matters...
What humans do to one another in music, is not, and has never been music’s intent.
Common experiences in musical wounding
The Landscape of Musical Trauma
What messages (spoken or unspoken) might you have internalized?
For many, music has been taught as performance, as something you prove to earn approval. This conditioning is the result of generations of misunderstanding about what music really is at its core: a language, a birthright, an open invitation.
Imagine if, as children, we were told music is your breath, your story, your right, not something reserved for the ‘talented.’
What would change in our families, schools, cultures if everyone could use music to connect, to soothe, to celebrate, to be known?
The idea of a mistake: Recitals, auditions, or group play where “getting it wrong” was not a safe, supportive process, but one of ridicule, exclusion, or withdrawal of approval.
- “When I fumbled a note at the recital, I was mortified. My teacher’s face turned stony. I wanted to disappear.”
DECENTRALIZING MASTERY | Celebrate the experience rather than the result
Fluency isn't perfection, it’s ease, play, and the joy that comes from releasing judgment's presence
People feeling valued only if they performed at a certain level or pleased the one assessing them; love or validation tied directly to achievement.
- “At home, if I didn’t practice perfectly, the praise disappeared. Music became a measurement, not a gift.”
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If music had always been a language of belonging, how would your story be different?
Can we create change for the next generation?
Years of associating music with physical stress—tightness, shallow breath, nausea—before performances or lessons, sometimes compounding into adulthood
- “Violin lessons meant a pit in my stomach, sweaty hands, and counting down the minutes to escape.”
If, as you begin, you feel awkward, small, or caught in self-doubt, that is evidence of old programming, not of your inadequacy. The discomfort is a doorway, and perhaps multiple framed passages, where freedom and ease can be found by stepping through.
“Violin lessons meant a pit in my stomach, sweaty hands, and counting down the minutes to escape.”Being told directly or by implication, “You’re not talented enough; you can’t join,” or “You’re not a musician, just someone who plays.”
- “Our teacher made us audition every year. I never got in. Eventually, I stopped trying altogether—convinced I wasn’t ‘real.’”
You have permission to be musical.
You do not need to earn your place in the world of sound, any more than you needed to earn the right to speak.
The experience of a teacher or leader who didn’t listen, who controlled the musical experience, or who ignored creativity in favor of strict technique, may have contributed to the disconnection and sense of not mattering as a musical being.
- “She wouldn’t let me improvise, or veer from the book. When I tried, I was corrected or ignored.”
- “I wanted to play my song, but there was only one right way. I stopped bringing ideas.”
Music becoming solely about work, discipline, or appeasing authority, with original delight choked out by routine or aspiration.
- “As an adult, I’m terrified to sing in public—even alone in my car. Too many memories of criticism.”
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If you experienced repeated feedback, criticism, or exclusion, did your relationship with music change?
The truth is, musicianship lives inside everyone, not just the few who pass a test, or fit a mold. The Fluency Project invites you to reclaim music as your native tongue, and to rediscover expression as a right, not a privilege. Even if you feel at the edge now, you are invited in.
We are all connected by a common thread, and when we come together, we create a tapestry that resonates with beauty and harmonic wonder.
What offering could you make in music that expects nothing—rather, simply cherishes the echo of presence returned?
