May is Mental Health Awareness Month, with a focus in Canada on Mental Health Week May 4th-10th.
At the heart of The Awesome Music Project is our mission to promote the transformative power of music to address mental health challenges through the sharing of stories. Our book shares 111 stories from an incredibly diverse group of Canadians.
We want to hear yours.
Throughout April we are asking you, our fellow music fans and mental health advocates, to share your story about the power of music in your life. Our goal is to collect 31 stories and share one every day on our social media channels through Mental Health Awareness Month in May. You can remain anonymous, or provide your social media handle and we will tag you - whatever you are comfortable with.
Please send your music story to info@theawesomemusicproject.com before April 30th.
Even a few sentences might be enough to make an important connection. We have included some prompts to get you thinking.
It could be a story behind a song that:
reminds you of your childhood
gives you strength during hard times
you have listened to repeatedly during self-isolation
makes you happy
reminds you of your first love
has helped you get through your own personal mental health battles
If you include a YouTube link to the song mentioned in your story, we will share that too!
We will be using the hashtag #MyMusicStory to share these stories from you. Feel free to do the same. For Mental Health Week May 4-10, The Canadian Mental Health Association will be using the hashtag #GetLoud - perfect to amplify music stories!
Add your voice to the stories shared by The Awesome Music Project. We all have our stories. What's yours?
Tell us #MyMusicStory.
If you need some more inspiration, below are a few examples sent by our AMP Army:
Song: My Maria by Brooks and Dunn
Submitted by: Terry Foerster
The summer after I graduated was tough; I missed my friends, and I found my new adult responsibilities intimidating. I needed one last hurrah before I got serious. The road trip would include my best friend, no preparation, a lot of storytelling, much laughter, and My Maria by Brooks and Dunn playing on repeat over the portable stereo in the back seat. To this day, when I hear that song I’m taken back to that drive; I feel the wind on my face, I see the highway in front of me, and my heart swells. The song reminds me that life doesn’t need to be so serious all the time.
Song: Leaving Las Vegas by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by: Brent Jensen (@brentjensenmusic)
Music is like alchemy, in the sense that we take from it what it is that we think we need. We look for ourselves inside the lyrics of songs and imagine in some way that they represent our personal life situations. Our special songs are emblematic of who we are. Sheryl Crow’s “Leaving Las Vegas” was playing on the car radio as I backed out of my parents’ driveway and left my childhood home in northern Ontario for Toronto to start a new life in my early 20s. I had known for a long time that I could never stay in my lonely little town. There was nothing there for me anymore. But I had lived in that house on Tudhope Street almost my entire life. It was where I had done all my growing up. I’d ‘left home’ a few times previously to live in university residence, but I had always come back in the summer. Until this very moment, this place had been the only home I’d ever really known. As I left the driveway, my mom stood on the front porch waving goodbye just outside the door, just as she had done every time before - waving and mustering a brave smile. But this time, as the car went into drive and began to move away, I looked back at her and noticed that there was no smile. She was crying as she waved goodbye. She had never, ever done that before. But we both knew I wasn’t coming back this time. As I drove away Sheryl so serendipitously emoted that line about taking a losing hand and making it win, flooding my eyes with thick curtains of emotion. But here’s the important thing. That day, through those old Honda Accord speakers, Sheryl lent the depression I was feeling a very distinct poignancy. She provided solace. Her song reminded me of my purpose, as grim as it seemed in that moment. Eventually I would live out her words – I took a losing hand and I made a winner of it. Sheryl’s song did what every truly good sad song should do - it dignified an otherwise unfortunate emotion.
