A professional singer-songwriter by trade, I learned of AFTA by a friend in the music business. I thought working with AFTA would give me a nice break from touring, provide an opportunity to serve others rather than continuously hype myself, and earn a little extra money on the side. Truth be told, it has done all those things and more—a lot more. 

I’ve learned a ton about my community. I’ve seen neighborhoods and facilities I never would have visited otherwise, expanding my understanding of Washington, DC—a city I’ve called home for the last twelve years. I’ve gotten a first-hand look at the spectrum of living conditions in which seniors find themselves today; from small, private nursing homes in Georgetown, to suburban adult day care facilities, to the city-run St. Elizabeth’s psychiatric hospital in Southeast DC. Never will I hear a public policy discussion on aging in the same way again. 

I’ve learned that growing older does not have to mean getting sicker, and at the same time I’ve learned about the diseases that affect the elderly. Alzheimer’s, dementia and schizophrenia don’t scare me so much anymore, and I’m comfortable interacting with seniors who have these conditions.

I’ve learned the difference between being compassionate and being patronizing--ultimately there aren’t many difficult situations that can’t be handled with an open heart and a generous spirit.

I’ve learned to be comfortable with unpredictability--to trust spontaneity and to sometimes cede control of a session for others to have and enjoy the spotlight for a while.

I’ve been energized on a blah day, received sage advice for my marriage, done the twist with an 80 year old woman, heard a lifetime of grandchildren stories, and have been alternately amazed, moved and amused by the things the seniors say and do…

…like the time I visited the Alzheimer’s Family Day Center. One particular gentleman spent most of the session mumbling to himself. After I finished, he spontaneously rendered a rousing martial anthem. We were all stunned. After a moment, he announced that he was a graduate of the Naval Academy, and that he hadn’t thought of that song in forty years. 

…or the time I was at Center Care and a senior began dancing with herself in the middle of the room in a very meditative, almost ethereal way. I was so entranced by her movements that I didn’t notice the lyrics to the song I had been singing until I finished: “You’ve got to sing like you don’t need the money/you’ve got to love like you’ve never been hurt/you’ve got to dance like nobody’s watching/it’s gotta come from the heart if you want it to work.”

 …or the time I was finishing a session at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital and a woman asked me if I could sing any Christian songs. When asked if she had any favorites, she began to sing a spiritual unfamiliar to me, but that many people in the room apparently knew. With each successive verse, she sang louder and more passionately until the entire room was singing together in one voice. When she finished, she looked over at me, and the only response I could give to her question was, “Not like that I can’t.”

Working with AFTA isn’t always easy. Not every session is so eventful, and it can be exhausting to put out so much energy when you feel as though you’re not getting it back in return. Sometimes it’s hard to know whether you’re having any impact at all. But I believe in moments—moments of revelation, insight, exhilaration and laughter; where it is clear that there is nothing more important you could be doing with your time. Working with AFTA is fertile ground for just those kinds of moments. For me, it is music in a different setting, with a different audience, for an entirely different set of reasons. It reminds me all the time that to serve is invariably to be served.

Bill Parsons, AFTA Artist