To Lift Spirits During the Pandemic, Sing Together!

When I visited Venice, Italy many years ago, what struck me most—after the gorgeous skies and the pastel colors that washed the ancient buildings and danced on the water—was the singing, the music of daily life that spilled out of windows, echoed in the alleys, and skated across the canals. The city had a soundtrack like no other. It was the voices of women singing while they cooked, old men serenading their neighbors, children chirping nursery rhymes. It wasn’t the individual voices that were impressive, but the way they merged to create something bigger than the sound of each voice alone.

That’s what’s happening during the COVID-19 pandemic—voices are rising up and the citizens of the world are spontaneously creating a soundtrack to an event that’s unprecedented in our lifetimes. In these uncertain days, people are soothing themselves and others by singing in unison, harmonizing from windows and balconies, in the streets at a social distance, and, especially, alone together via Zoom.

Grieving, grateful, fearful, angry, and hopeful, they’re transforming their emotions and lifting one another’s spirits. You’ve seen it: the singalongs, the Jimmy Fallon remixes, parodies, quarantine livestreams, virtual concerts, impromptu block choirs, and the heartfelt balcony tributes to healthcare workers. Across social media people are merging their voices. And for good reason. Singing with others has the power to create community and connectivity at the same time that it’s physically and emotionally healing.

There was a time when singing together was a common occurrence. Music bonded people in times of mourning, during celebration, and in worship. It’s been part of healing and spiritual ceremonies since time began. But for some of us, singing in assembly in grade school was the last time we sang with people. And for others, singing as a communal activity occurs only in places of worship. “Singing together is a marvelous thing,” trauma expert Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD, told Dani Shapiro on her Family Secrets Podcast. “It really makes you feel cheerful, optimistic, and connected. But we don’t sing anymore.”

We should. In a YouTube video from the National Institute for the Clinical Application of Behavioral Medicine (NICAB), Van Der Kolk, author of “The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma,” points to the calming power of singing, observing how in national emergencies, such as 9/11, people gathered and sang.

Even in non-emergent situations, singing is healing. And while singing in the shower might lift your mood, singing with others multiplies the rewards. Research indicates that singing does the body good in numerous ways. Studies have shown that it strengthens the immune system, increases lung capacity and reduces symptoms of asthma, enhances brain development in children, improves posture, and may help relieve pain. It lowers the heart rate and decreases blood pressure, which may have implications for heart health.

Recent studies involving people with Parkinson’s disease show that singing not only improves their motor symptoms but also enhances mood and reduces the indicators of stress. It’s also helped stroke victims speak again. New Zealand’s Centre for Brain Research is studying the CeleBRation Choir, a community singing group made up of people who have—or whose loved ones have—communication difficulties related to neurological problems. For years it’s been led on a weekly basis by a registered music therapist, and during quarantine it continues via Zoom. The center’s research indicates that singing not only improves mood and quality of life but also actually helps “rewire the brain” after damage.

Singing is a boon for emotional health as well. Group singing, participants report, is exhilarating. It causes the release of endorphins, which produces sensations of pleasure, and oxytocin, which enhances bonding. At the same time, it reduces the secretion of the hormone cortisol, resulting in a reduction in stress. It takes your mind off your worries, thus relieving anxiety, and may help people recover from depression.

Perhaps most important during the pandemic, singing can bridge the distance we feel and build community, even when we can’t be together physically. According to the website of the UK’s Association of Anthroposophic Therapeutic Arts, “Whether we sing or actively listen to someone else sing, our emotional life is affected and the connection to ourselves and our surroundings is deepened.”

“Sing together,” Van Der Kolk says in NICAB’s video,  “Get into rhythmical harmony with other people,” he urges, observing that our “core mammalian sense of safety is from synchronous sounds and movements with other people.”

Don’t worry if you can’t sing, because of course you can. One study has shown that the rewards of group singing stand even when the singers lack training or experience. There’s no need to judge yourself; just open your mouth and sing. Sing alone if you must, but if you can, add your voice to the voices of others. Gather some friends and organize your own Zoom choir, meet up with your neighbors at a social distance and sing together, or join an existing choir (look for possibilities here and here).

Check out the following videos for inspiration. And sing along!

You’ll Never Walk Alone

Love’s in Need of Love Today

Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah

Jimmy Fallon, Sting & The Roots Don’t Stand So Close to Me

Sounds of Silence

Here Comes the Sun

You’ve Got a Friend

True ColorsBEFORE YOU GO…



A DNA Test Revealed I’m a Late-Discovery Adoptee

At Thanksgiving 2018, my cousin suggested we get our DNA tested so she could track our grandfather’s lineage. I hesitated. I was 51 and had never had a desire to do DNA testing. Because my parents, both deceased, had known their heritage, I already knew mine. After some pressure, I agreed to take the test. We ordered our kits and I didn’t pay attention to mine when it arrived. After about a month, I found it while cleaning. I spit into the tube and didn’t give it a second thought.

In February 2019, my test kit came back with a complete mixture of ethnicities. I was confused and assumed there’d been some sort of mix-up. My mother had been 100% Irish and my father 100% Italian. I grew up Italian—like Sunday-dinner-at-2-at-my-grandparents-that-lasted-until-6-with-20-relatives kind of Italian. I’m an incredible Italian cook and I use many of my grandparents’ recipes. But my DNA test showed I’m only 2% Italian. The rest is German, French, English, French Canadian. You name it, I’ve got it—a far cry from the 50-50 I thought I was all my life.

I reached out to a DNA cousin on my match list who was an amateur genealogist and who realized that our match meant that one of her two uncles had to be my biological father. That’s how I learned I’d been adopted. One uncle was a playboy and one dated the same woman from the time she was 14 years old, so my father had to be the playboy. I discovered later that had I tested at 23andMe instead of or in addition to Ancestry.com, I would have matched with my father and one of my biological brothers, who’d been given kits as Christmas presents by my biological mother.

I learned that my biological parents were 15 and 17 when they had me. Strangely enough, my mother and her mother were pregnant at the same time, but no one knew my mother was pregnant. Her mother delivered a baby first and was with her husband and the new baby at the doctor’s office when my mother went into labor at home alone. She went into the bathroom, locked the door and delivered me. When her parents came home, they knocked down the bathroom door and there I was.

Finding out at 51 that I’d been adopted was confusing and an enormous blow to my identity. I’d been very close to my parents and took care of them both in my home for years before they died. I felt I’d lost my identity and my family in one fell swoop. Not only wasn’t I Italian, but I wasn’t my parents’ biological child. In a small town like the one I grew up in, your identity is entirely linked to your parents until you’re past 40. My father was very well known in our community, and I’d always been known chiefly as his daughter. I felt lost and confused.

I needed as much information as quickly as possible to make sense of this. I tried calling adoption agencies, but wasn’t able to learn anything. I finally managed to get a file of non-identifying information that filled in some blanks. It turns out I didn’t come to live with my adoptive parents until after I was a year old. It appears I was in foster care during that time because I’d been born at home without prenatal care. I talked to my parents’ neighbors and they filled in some blanks. Over time I realized that many people I grew up with knew I’d been adopted but no one had told me. A cousin finally told me that my parents couldn’t have children after my brother was born, so they adopted me.

I connected with my biological family and learned that they’d continued their relationship, have been married for 48 years, and have 3 other children. It was almost too much to take. I was overwhelmed. They’d wondered about me all their lives, and once we were in touch, wanted to pick up where they “left off.” But I was suffering trauma. I had to go to a counselor to help me work through the emotions. The cousin who talked me into doing a DNA test went into therapy as well, feeling that she’d somehow ruined my life by encouraging me to take the test.

It’s been more than a year and I’ve gotten to know my biological family. I’ve discovered that this experience has been a blessing in an odd way. Few people, after their parents have passed way, have another opportunity to develop such a familial relationship. Few can go from an ending to a beginning.

Sometimes I’m alone, driving in my car, and I’m struck by a mixture of grief and astonishment. It’s taking a long time to process the grief, but each day gets a little better. My husband and adult children have been incredibly supportive and have accepted my biological family members into their lives.

I look for opportunities to be grateful. I was raised by wonderful parents who loved and supported me my entire life. Now I have an opportunity to get to know my biological parents who also love me. Life is a journey, and sometimes the journey is truly an unknown adventure.—Anonymous