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Change Starts with Seeing What Music Can Do When I began seeing people with dementia light up when reconnected with their favorite music, I knew we had to find a way to make that experience available to everyone who might benefit. Since then, I’ve trained teams in more than 5,000 long-term care, hospital, home care, day program, and hospice settings. Yet effective ideas do not necessarily spread by themselves. Obstacles to change include ageism, stigma, organizational inertia, competing priorities, assumptions about cost, and the familiar response: “Music is not my job.” The strongest champions are often people who have witnessed music’s outsized impact themselves. Once you see someone reconnect, calm down, communicate, or simply come alive through familiar music, you want others to experience it. The Alzheimer’s Society of Toronto was the first to act fourteen years ago, providing free customized music players to anyone in Toronto with dementia. More than 8,000 families have benefited. A 2025 Deloitte Canada analysis found that music engagement can improve multiple measures of quality of life for people with Alzheimer’s and their caregivers, generating $2.40 in benefits for every $1 invested. Such measures include a 50% reduction in depression and a 25% reduction in caregiver stress. Music Is a Tool for Better Care Healthcare organizations already prioritize person-centered care and quality of life. Rather than asking them to take on “another music program,” we should show how meaningful music supports goals they already have: better clinical outcomes, easier and more rewarding staff interactions, greater family satisfaction, and potential organizational efficiencies. Group music has an important place, but its relevance varies from person to person. The starting point should be: What music has mattered throughout this person’s life, and how can we keep them connected to it? Make Music Everyone’s Business Music therapists bring specialized clinical expertise, and recreation professionals play an essential role. But their impact multiplies when nurses, PSWs, therapists, social workers, administrators, and families are also empowered to use music. Being warm, respectful, and cheerful with residents/patients/clients isn’t one department’s job. Neither should helping someone connect with meaningful music. Empower People to Act Now Organizations can start small. Pilot an approach and let people see what happens. Show leaders and staff powerful examples such as Alive Inside. Use established approaches rather than reinventing the wheel. Build train-the-trainer models. Identify each person’s music and include those preferences in care plans and electronic health records. Alzheimer’s organizations can incorporate music into caregiver education, provide family toolkits and support choirs and other community opportunities. Identify champions, track outcomes, and share successes so promising pilots become sustained practice. We no longer need to ask whether music can make a difference in dementia care. The question is: What can each of us do to make sure people with dementia have access to it? Music doesn’t compete with the priorities of dementia care. Properly integrated, it helps us achieve them. About Dan Cohen Dan Cohen, MSW, founder and CEO of Right to Music , is a passionate advocate for integrating best practice music-based interventions into healthcare, especially long-term care and for all persons with dementia. He founded Music & Memory , a nonprofit organization that promotes the use of personalized music to enhance the well-being of the elderly and infirm. The therapeutic and joyful outcomes of his work are portrayed in the Sundance audience award-winning documentary, "Alive Inside.” He has presented at numerous healthcare and dementia caregiver conferences in the United States and internationally. Driven by his vision of widespread adoption of music-based interventions, he is focused on advocating for policy changes, raising public awareness, improving research, and modifying the curriculum for future healthcare professionals. Additionally, he co-founded the International Music and Dementia Advocacy Coalition , which seeks to expand global access to music for people with dementia. To contact Dan, email him at dcohen@righttomusic.com .

Somewhere in a care home in Shanghai, a resident who has grown quiet begins to hum along to a song from her youth. In a Canadian long-term care home, a woman who no longer recognizes her own daughter still knows every word of the hymn they sing together at her bedside. In Brazil, a program built around belonging is helping people living with dementia feel connected again. These aren't isolated moments. They're part of a growing worldwide movement — and this fall, that movement comes together in one room. A virtual one, open to all. What's happening On Wednesday, September 23, 2026 , the International Music & Dementia Advocacy Coalition (IMDAC) hosts its first Music & Dementia Global Forum , and the theme says it plainly: Accelerating Music Access for All. It runs from 9:00 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. EST , entirely online, and it's free . Because it's scheduled across time zones — 2 p.m. in London, 3 p.m. in Berlin, 7:30 p.m. in Delhi — caregivers, practitioners, and advocates from around the world can join the same conversation at the same time. The Forum is hosted by Justine Schneider (UK) and Dan Cohen (US), two long-standing voices in this field. This is an applied gathering, not an academic one. You won't leave with a stack of citations. You'll leave with stories, evidence you can use, and practical ideas you can carry back into your own setting. Who it's for If you care about music and dementia, this is for you — whether you come to it as a professional, a practitioner, or a family member. The Forum welcomes: People living with dementia Care partners, family, and friends Dementia care professionals Frontline care providers and service organizations Music practitioners in dementia care You don't need a musical background, a research title, or a budget. You just need an interest in what music can do when it's woven into care. Three hours, three questions The program is built around three simple questions, each opening with presentations from around the globe and closing with small-group breakout rooms where you can actually talk. Hour one asks: what does the evidence show? Felicity Baker from Australia shares MATCH, a technology that helps tailor music to manage symptoms of dementia. Qiuxia Zhang from China and Fei Sun from the US present a music-based approach to depression among older residents in Shanghai care facilities. Real programs, real results, brought to life rather than buried in data. Hour two asks: how do we change the system? Karoline Gjertsen from Norway describes how her country made music a national approach in elderly and dementia care. Anita Shinde from Canada shares highlights from Deloitte's analysis of the economic value of music engagement — the kind of evidence that opens doors with funders and policymakers. Hour three asks: what actually works, and where? Sara Santini from Italy presents the SOUND experience, a music-based approach tested across three European countries. Elaine Fernandes Mateus from Brazil shares MusicalMente, a program rooted in belonging and human connection. These are methods designed to travel — to work in different settings, cultures, and budgets. Afterward, there's an optional half-hour to simply meet one another. In a field where so many people work in isolation, that time to connect matters. Why this matters to us At Room 217, we believe music care — the intentional use of music by anyone to improve health and well-being — belongs to everyone, not just the specialists. That belief doesn't stop at our border. A resident's face softening at a familiar song looks the same in Toronto as it does in Oslo or São Paulo. A forum like this reminds us that we're part of something larger. The barriers are real — stigma, cost, lack of training, language — but so is the momentum to overcome them. Access to music shouldn't be a privilege. It should be a right. Come join us Registration is free and open now through the IMDAC events page at imdac2030.org . Save the date, sign up, and bring a colleague or two. Three hours of your day, and a whole world of people who care about the same thing you do.  Free Registration IMDAC - Music & Dementia Global Forum Tickets, Wednesday, September 23 • 9 AM - 12:30 PM EDT | Eventbrite

“But I’m not musical.” “I’m tone deaf.” “My choir teacher told me to just mouth the words.” I hear versions of these comments all the time when I’m teaching MUSIC CARE TRAINING. They’re usually said with a laugh, but underneath them is a real hesitation: If I’m not musical, can I really use music in care? My answer is a passionate, resounding YES. In fact, this is one of the messages I care most about people taking away from our training. Music care is not reserved for musicians. It is not about having a beautiful voice, reading music or knowing how to play an instrument. One of the distinctions we make in our training is that music care is about presence, not just performance , and that changes the conversation. Music care begins when we stop asking, “Am I musical enough?” and start asking, “How can music help me connect with this person right now?” You may already be using music Think about the role music already plays in your own life. Maybe it is part of your drive to work, your workout, your morning routine or the way you unwind at the end of the day. A song can shift your mood, bring back a memory or instantly connect you to a person or place. We already understand, often without even thinking about it, that music can change how a moment feels. The same is true in care. A PSW might hum a familiar song while helping someone get dressed. Recreation staff might choose music from a resident’s younger years instead of reaching for a generic playlist. From my own classroom days, I remember singing songs with students on the bus to a field trip. Somehow the time passed more quickly, and before long we were all connected through music and contagious laughter. None of these decisions require musical talent or years of private lessons. They require knowing the person, paying attention to what is happening and being willing to respond. That is music care too: being present enough to notice where music might help. Start with the person, not the playlist Music is personal. What comforts one person may irritate another, and a song that brings back a wonderful memory for one person may mean something very different to someone else. Before you worry about finding the “right” music, start with the person. Ask simple questions: What did you listen to when you were younger? Who was your favourite singer? Is there a song that always makes you smile? Then watch what happens. Does the person sing along, tap a foot, smile or seem calmer? Do they turn away or ask you to stop? Those responses tell us something. Music care is about learning what matters to someone and noticing how they respond. Over the years, I have learned that when I really listen and pay attention, I become a much more responsive educator and caregiver. That kind of presence has become an important part of my own practice. Start small  I’m not asking you to suddenly become the person leading the sing-along! Let’s take this in small steps. Start with one person and one moment. A familiar song might help someone ease into the morning, or you might simply join in when someone begins singing a line from an old favourite. While reading Mel Robbins’ The Let Them Theory, I was reminded of another one of her ideas, the 5 Second Rule: 5-4-3-2-1, and move. Sometimes that is exactly what we need when our inner voice says, I can’t sing. I’ll feel silly. I’m not musical. Hum the song. Ask the question. Put on the music. Join in. If it does not work, change the song or try something different. Music care is not about getting it right every time. It is about being willing to try and staying present to the person in front of you. Give yourself permission to try Maybe the real barrier was never whether you were musical enough. Maybe it was simply believing that music belonged to someone else. But music already lives in everyday moments, in relationships, in laughter, in memories and in care. You do not have to wait until you feel more confident or know more about music before you use it. Start with what you already know about the person in front of you and be willing to try. The next musical moment may be as simple as humming a familiar tune, pressing play or joining someone in a song. Sometimes those small moments are where connection begins, and where true meaning lives

It isn’t uncommon for a music therapist to receive animated feedback from strangers about the job. I’ve been embraced, patted on the shoulder, affectionately named “The Music Lady”, and waved at by nature of the job title. It is my experience that folks generally feel affectionate towards music, and therefore by proxy, me. However, it is seldom that someone asks to hear more than the 10-second version of what a music therapist does. These interactions over time have led me to better understand how the general population perceives music therapy or even the inclusion of music into healthcare spaces. In general, folks tend to be optimistic, nostalgic, and supportive of the art and science of it all. At the same time, my experience has shown that there are fairy-tale ideas about music therapy that can be adjacent to these supportive sentiments. Many patients, families and colleagues are filled with visions from movies, the news or their imagination to understand how music interacts with health. One such myth is that music is always good and helpful, it will offer a tonic unlike any other that is exempt from unanticipated side effects or negative consequences. While I understand that it can be difficult to describe, this notion about music is simply untrue. It is high time that we honour the power of music enough to consider how that power presents risk for adverse consequences. These potential unintended consequences can fall under five categories, which I have adapted from Murakami’s work (2021 ): Risks about the present situation (i.e. context and best fit right now) Risks about the person’s relationship to this music (i.e. preference, memories) Risks about this person’s capacity for this music stimulus (i.e. sound science with level of functioning) Risks about the application of music by the Music Carer (i.e. Music Care competence) Risks about the person and the Music Carer (i.e. quality of relationship, trust) To decrease the likelihood of these, Music Carers must be vigilant, observing the relationships of each of these five areas regularly. One way to do this, is by adopting three practices when using a Music Care approach.

There are moments in life when words simply aren't enough. When someone you love is living with dementia or another condition that changes memory and communication, conversations can become difficult. Familiar faces may no longer be recognized. Shared stories may seem lost. Yet, remarkably, a simple song can reach places that words cannot. Music has an extraordinary ability to awaken memories, evoke emotions, and reconnect us to the people we love. A favourite melody can spark a smile, inspire conversation, encourage movement, or bring a sense of calm during moments of uncertainty. It reminds us that even when memory changes, the capacity to feel, connect, and experience joy often remains. This is the inspiration behind Without a Song, a moving tribute to the power of music in care. Written by legendary Canadian singer-songwriter Murray McLauchlan , Without a Song was dedicated to the Room 217 Foundation on its 10th anniversary in 2019. The song beautifully captures what caregivers, families, and healthcare professionals witness every day: music is far more than entertainment. It is a bridge to connection, comfort, and hope. That belief is at the heart of MUSIC CARE by Room 217. Through evidence-informed education, practical tools, and professional training, the organization is helping caregivers across Canada and around the world confidently integrate music into everyday care. Whether in long-term care, hospices, hospitals, community programs, or family homes, music becomes a trusted companion that supports both the person receiving care and those who care for them. The story behind the recording is just as inspiring as the song itself. Produced by Philip Janz at Hi Tyme Studios in Abbotsford, British Columbia, the recording features talented musicians who are part of the Room 217 community. But perhaps its most powerful moment came during the 19th MUSIC CARE CONFERENCE in November 2025. Inside Metalworks Studios in Mississauga, Ontario, 180 caregivers gathered to lend their voices to the song's background chorus. These were not professional singers. They were nurses, recreation professionals, therapists, care partners, and other caregivers who understand firsthand the impact music can have on the people they support every day. Together, their voices became a powerful reminder that caring is something we do together. Among those voices is Ontario's Minister of Long-Term Care, the Honourable Natalia Kusendova-Bashta who spoke to conference participants about the transformative role music can play in dementia care. Her voice, alongside those of 179 other caregivers, professionals, and advocates, became part of the recording—a meaningful symbol of a shared commitment to bringing music into care. The accompanying video, produced by Kelsey Blake Creative in Toronto, features actors connected through Room 217's certification program, reinforcing the message that music care is built through community, compassion, and shared purpose. At a time when healthcare continues to seek more person-centred approaches, Without a Song reminds us of something beautifully simple: music helps us remain connected to ourselves and to each other. It reaches beyond illness, beyond diagnosis, and beyond the limits of memory. Because sometimes, when words fail, a song can help us find our way home.  We invite you to watch Without a Song and experience the message for yourself.

As people age, many things can change. Routines shift. Roles evolve. Some people retire, move homes, lose loved ones, or begin relying more on others for support. Through all of these transitions, maintaining a sense of identity becomes deeply important. Music is often part of that identity. Long before music becomes part of a care program, it is already connected to people’s lives in meaningful ways. Musical preferences are shaped by culture, relationships, life experiences, values, and personal history. The music someone chooses — or avoids — can reflect who they are, where they come from, and what matters to them. Research exploring music, creativity, and aging increasingly points to this connection between the arts and identity. Studies have found that creative engagement later in life can support self-expression, social connection, purpose, and emotional well-being. Rather than viewing aging only through a lens of decline, this highlights the continued importance of participation, meaning, and individuality throughout older adulthood. This perspective matters in care environments. In busy care settings, music is often used with positive intentions: to create atmosphere, support routines, reduce stress, or bring comfort to shared spaces. But, care teams are balancing enormous demands, and individualized approaches can be difficult without the right resources, time, and support. At the same time, music is highly personal. Preferences are closely tied to identity, belonging, and lived experience. A song that helps one person feel grounded and connected may feel unfamiliar or even unpleasant to someone else. One person may connect strongly with jazz, another with country music, hymns, folk songs, Motown, or music connected to cultural traditions or important periods of life. These preferences are not trivial. They reflect individuality. Research has also shown that participation in music and the arts can help support positive self-identity, a sense of purpose, and meaningful social relationships in later life. This may be especially important during periods of transition, when older adults can experience changes in independence, social roles, or daily routines. Music can provide continuity during those changes. This is part of why intentional music care matters. When music is personalized and used thoughtfully, it can support more than enjoyment or entertainment. It can support personhood. Small shifts toward choice and personalization can help older adults remain connected to familiar parts of themselves and maintain opportunities for expression, participation, and connection. In practice, this may look like incorporating meaningful music into daily routines, inviting older adults to help shape musical choices, or creating opportunities for singing, movement, storytelling, or shared musical experiences. Sometimes the impact is visible in increased engagement or conversation. Other times it is quieter: someone singing along softly, sharing a memory connected to a song, or simply appearing more comfortable and settled. Music can also support connection between generations. Family members often learn new things about loved ones through conversations about music: the songs they danced to, the artists they loved, the music they listened to while raising children, or the songs that carried them through difficult periods of life. These conversations reinforce something important: older adults are not defined solely by care needs or diagnoses. They continue to have evolving identities, preferences, relationships, and stories. As we recognize Seniors Month, it is worth reflecting on the role music can play not only in supporting well-being, but in supporting identity. Music is not simply background sound. For many people, it remains closely connected to self-expression, belonging, and a sense of who they are throughout the aging process. Related Reading Creativity and art therapies to promote healthy aging (Frontiers in Psychology) Older adults’ participation in artistic activities (Activities, Adaptation & Aging) Music preference, social identity, and collective self-esteem (Psychology of Music)

For most of my practice of coming alongside people in care or at the end of life, my harp has been the extension of me. It has traveled in ICUs, nursing homes, funerals, and celebrations of life. But for George, it couldn’t reach into the depths of his ears or into his soul for soothing, comforting, and connecting. George became profoundly deaf at the end of life. George, in his youth, was a very active and attractive young man with many skills athletically and also musically. Both he and his brother were incredible tenors in their church choirs from youth until their sixties. They sang duets and solos in church and with Gilbert and Sullivan Productions. It was actually there that George met the love of his life, Audrey, and they sang together. In my youth at church, George was often gowned in the choir garb, enjoying the music of the church and those “olde hymns”. Later, George’s father’s work as an assayer took him at the age of 16 to Jamaica, where he fell in love with the folk music of the isle. At home, he loved watching Don Messer’s Jubilee; country music was his soft spot. Often after dinner, he would start the turntable and listen to the crooning of the country and western storytellers. Aging, as they say, is not for the faint of heart. The loss of hearing was a huge adjustment for George, and the loss continued until even the hearing aids no longer worked. I would take Ruby, my little red harp, into the nursing home to play, and he would gently smile in his George way and shake his head that he heard nothing. This is where I became the student during the journey. George would bring out copies of his music, such as old hymns and lyrics of favourite love songs. These copies would be yellowed and delicately thin with age. He would begin to sing in his mellow tenor voice, and the memories flooded back. He shared the copies with fellow residences and staff. He would sing to them all. My job was to listen and take in his rich history of music that journaled the passages of his life. Our favourite haunt in the last nine years was Swiss Chalet, every Sunday evening. Often, our Jamaican staff would come out and sing to George. He really couldn’t catch the words the first couple of times, and then he would lip-read Diane’s words, “Come, Mr. Tally Man, Tally Me Banana,” and everyone at the table and surrounding tables would sing. George would randomly sing songs of the past during these dinners, remembering all the words as well as the moments these songs elicited. Then, the talk and connection went deep. His son, Peter, would take notes about all of these wonderful events of a man who lived a humble life well. Our portal into the life of George often came through old black-and-white photos, old hymn books, even old 78 records. He would smile, close his eyes, relax in his lazy boy, and the vocal music would begin. With the music came the stories of life traveling with his family, the depression, World War 2, meeting Audrey, raising his family, and connection with others through music. Even though he could no longer hear, he remembered and could still give the gift of song to others. The lesson is that music is so much more than sound; it is the connection, the stories, and the memories. We, as music care advocates, need not pass by someone who can’t hear as we may feel not useful, but to think beyond the physical sound into the memories of a song. The use of old pictures and hymn books helped us to enter into the past, as did the conversations cards of Music Care. Our job is one of connection and valuing the humanity of a soul. Music provides rich soil for connection. As our body ages and access to many things diminishes, we must still consider how to adapt our approach of using music to connect, through pictures, conversations, touch, and just being in space together sharing who we are. Shelley Neal is a special education teacher and program coordinator, therapeutic musician, and music care advocate in the Greater Toronto Area. Shelley uses music to deliver curriculum, support movement and language development and communication skills with non-verbal children. Her goal is to come alongside people and use music in whole person care.

There are moments in nursing that stay with us forever, and others that seem to pass by without much notice or fanfare. Many nurses, for example, vividly remember the excitement and nervous anticipation that accompanied their first job. In contrast, writing a first care plan rarely evokes the same intensity of emotion or lasting memory. Yet, care planning is a fundamental component of nursing practice. Effective care plans help the healthcare team communicate clearly, understand each member’s role, and collaborate in meeting the individualized needs of every resident. As a Registered Nurse, I have seen that personalized care can make a real difference in the lives of older adults. One simple but powerful example is planning music care. When music is intentionally added to a resident’s care plan, it becomes much more than entertainment. Music can be used as a therapeutic tool that improves comfort, connection, and quality of life. What makes music so valuable is that it is simple, easy to access, and adaptable to each person’s preferences. Music is at your finger tips with the use of Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, and other streaming services. In addition, programs like Music Care by Room 217 help healthcare teams excel in the safe and effective use of music in care. From a nursing perspective, music fits naturally into holistic care, which means caring for the whole person, not just their physical health. Nurses look at emotional, mental, social, and spiritual needs as well as physical symptoms. Music can support all of these areas. It can help reduce anxiety and agitation, encourage movement, improve mood, promote relaxation, and even lessen the feeling of pain. In long-term care, staff often support residents during vulnerable moments, such as personal care, transitions, or times of distress. Music can help these moments by creating calm and comfort. One resident experience clearly showed me how powerful music can be. This resident was living with dementia and had some communication deficits. As part of a quality improvement initiative at Glen Hill Terrac e, staff gathered more information about the resident’s musical preferences and created a personalized music-based care plan. The change was remarkable. During care, while this personalized musical list was playing, the resident started singing along with staff, engaging positively, and had enhanced verbal communication. Most importantly, music helped the resident reconnect with moments of joy. Quality care is about more than treating illness. It means supporting dignity, comfort, joy, and human connection. Music is a simple but powerful tool that reaches people in ways medicine alone cannot. When thoughtfully included in care plans, music becomes part of compassionate, person-centered approach to caring. Juanne George is the Director of Dementia Care at Glen Hill Terrace, a 160-bed Long-Term Care Home.