Thinking Together: Why I’m Stepping Into the AI Conversation in Music Therapy
There is a particular kind of silence that happens inside a profession when something new arrives - not the silence of agreement, but the quiet pause before anyone is willing to say out loud what everyone is already sensing.
Right now, that silence is forming around artificial intelligence.
In private conversations, hallway exchanges at conferences, and late-night messages between colleagues, the questions are already there: curiosity edged with caution, excitement layered with skepticism, and a deeper uncertainty about what this technology might mean for a field built on human presence, creativity, and relational attunement. Publicly, however, the conversation remains fragmented - hesitant, often polarized, and rarely grounded in lived professional experience.
I have been watching this unfold from within the field, and increasingly, I find myself unable to remain on the sidelines.
Not because I believe AI represents a simple solution or inevitable progress, but because I believe music therapists need spaces where we can think together - openly, critically, and without fear of immediate judgment.
Over the past year, artificial intelligence has become part of my own professional landscape in ways I did not anticipate. It has not replaced my creative process, nor has it diminished the relational core of my work. Instead, it has functioned as a kind of thinking partner - something like a professional body double - allowing me to externalize internal dialogue, organize complex ideas, and move more fluidly between intuition and execution.
For someone whose ideas tend to arrive first as felt experience rather than written or spoken language, this shift has been profound. Conversations that once lived internally now take shape through iterative dialogue. Projects move from abstract possibility into tangible form with greater clarity. Brainstorming becomes collaborative rather than solitary. Unexpectedly, the process has even influenced my nervous system — offering structure and momentum where overwhelm might otherwise take hold.
These experiences have not led me to simple conclusions. Instead, they have raised more nuanced questions about what it means to be a creative professional in a rapidly evolving technological landscape.
Music therapy is, by nature, a field that holds strong values around authenticity, musicianship, embodiment, education, and human connection. It is therefore unsurprising that conversations about AI - particularly in areas like songwriting or creative development - evoke strong reactions.
Beneath the surface of many debates lies a deeper concern: that technology could erode the relational and artistic foundations of our work, or that economic pressures could leverage AI in ways that devalue the expertise of trained clinicians.
These concerns deserve serious engagement. They are rooted not only in fear but in professional ethics and lived experience.
Yet I also sense another reality emerging quietly alongside the resistance: music therapists experimenting privately, exploring possibilities without yet feeling safe enough to speak openly about what they are discovering.
The result is a profession caught between polarized narratives - enthusiastic adoption on one side, categorical rejection on the other - without sufficient space for nuanced exploration in between.
That middle space is where I find myself standing.
I am not interested in positioning AI as a replacement for human creativity or therapeutic presence. Nor am I interested in dismissing the legitimate ethical, environmental, and economic concerns many colleagues are raising. What does feel urgent to me is the need for thoughtful conversation led by music therapists themselves - practitioners who understand the complexities of clinical work, entrepreneurship, community engagement, and creative practice from the inside.
Artificial intelligence will continue to evolve regardless of our level of comfort.
The question is whether our profession will help shape how these tools are understood and used, or whether we will allow that narrative to be defined elsewhere.
For me, AI has opened unexpected pathways for creativity, organization, and innovation - from brainstorming and writing processes to imagining new platforms and workflows that could support sustainable practice. It has allowed me to explore ideas at a pace that aligns with intuition rather than fighting against it, transforming how I approach both creative development and business strategy.
I do not see this as a finished understanding. I see it as the beginning of a conversation.
And perhaps more importantly, I see it as an opportunity to create spaces where music therapists can engage with this topic honestly - where skepticism and curiosity can coexist, where ethical considerations remain central, and where experimentation does not require abandoning professional identity.
