Enjoy. Shuffle. Repeat: Using Personalized Music Playlists To Improve the Quality of Life for People with Dementia

F rom the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli … I have heard the opening lines of the Marine Corps hymn sung countless times in my life, but hearing three older men with dementia sing the hallowed words to me was truly a mystifying experience. I thought, “How can these men, seemingly disconnected from their environment and unable to remember the events from even a few short minutes ago, recall this song?” To me, the answer demonstrates the power of music.

The entire interaction was inspired by the recent documentary entitled, “Alive Inside.” In that movie, personalized music playlists were given to people with dementia who were often living isolated lives in nursing homes. The results were astonishing in terms of infusing new hope, joy, and social connectedness into their lives. These ideas inspired my supervisor at the memory care facility where I was completing my senior practicum, and she decided to pilot the music project with our residents.

As a result, while a practicum student, I had the opportunity to create dozens of personalized playlists for the older adults with dementia. It was no easy task; learning about the music they most wanted to hear took slow listening, patience, and a bit of creativity on my part. I interviewed them about their lives, and over time I became more adept at asking questions that seemed to unlock memories more effectively (e.g., “Did you grow up in the South?” “Did you dance to a song at your wedding?”). Many residents could not remember certain aspects of their lives, nor could they share definitive opinions about what music they might prefer. That being said, I was lucky enough to interview some of the residents with a family member present. It seemed, at times, that there was still something present between a family member and the person with dementia that defied the disease and allowed a clear communication of memories to occur.

As time went along, I noticed my personal experiences with music aided in the creation of the residents' playlists. I played trumpet beginning at age eight, and would often listen to Louis Armstrong with awe. I can remember sitting in the living room of my home in Washington listening to the rain outside and hearing my mother play Billie Holiday, Bing Crosby, Etta James, Frank Sinatra, and Nat King Cole after coming home from a long day of work. Or times when my father and 100 other Marines sang the Marine Corps hymn with pride at the yearly ball. I used this appreciation for music to fuel my selection of songs for the dementia care residents. I was passionate about finding “just the right songs” that could light up their faces, even if only for a brief moment. I never expected that music could have such a profound impact on the residents, and even more surprising were the memories that welled up inside of me. These were often moments filled with emotion—some happy, some sad—but never unwanted.

After the formation of the playlists, the nerve-racking part for me finally came—time to see whether the residents actually enjoyed the personalized music I had created for them. My insecurities as a newcomer to palliative care were to be tested by a few harsh critics and an amusing practical issue. It can be interesting, and at times comical, to use the iPods with residents. They always give the iPod a strange look and ask, “What is this thing?” I tell them it is like an old record player in a tiny box, and they go along with it. With their approval I finally tried it out, wondering whether I, a 24-year-old college senior, could have something valuable to offer these residents through music? I've learned that people with dementia can be truly candid about what they like or don't like, so I prepared myself for the worst, yet hoped for the best.

To my surprise, the humble intervention rendered amazing results. Residents who were nonverbal began to sing along and even dance. One woman in particular who was 90 years old began dancing—even though she needed her walker to do so. It is a rare sight—but now I can say that I have seen it! Smiles, animation, and connectedness to their environment occurred more often than not when I gave the residents their favorite music. It is hard to express with words the impact of this seemingly simple intervention.

In many ways this whole process has been a surprise. I thought I would become a Marine like my father and grandfather. Instead, I am a senior in psychology and this experience with a dementia and palliative care population has built my interest in this field, and shifted my outlook regarding the elderly. Before, the idea of working with the elderly, the sick, or those with dementia never crossed my mind. But now I sing a different tune. The impact this experience has had on my life as a student and as a person is immeasurable. I now look forward to working in areas of dementia and palliative care, and trust that this project will continue to change my life. In the legendary words of Frank Sinatra, I have every confidence that The Best is Yet to Come.