Dissonance Has My Heart

Throughout my life, I have turned to the arts for comfort, healing, entertainment and distraction. Dance and music, in particular, have always been part of my being - a true love, if you will. Growing up, I put together soundtracks with different songs for different situations and occasions, choreographed at all hours of the night, and I wallpapered my teenage bedroom in Rolling Stone covers. Music makes sense to me because it mirrors life: the melodies that rise and fall the same way mood ebbs and flows, the rhythms that help move you along or insist you wait patiently, and my favorite part - the mindful silence between the notes that offers a chance to reflect and simultaneously beckons you to listen closely for what comes next. Music is for celebrating and grieving. It’s for letting go and understanding ourselves and finding one another. The infinity of music is the closest thing to magic that I can imagine. 

I’ve also always been a planner, so it was no surprise I took the linear steps from high school right into college, then teaching music, and then becoming a therapist. But it took a leap of faith to do something outside of the box, and I have Dissonance co-founder, David Lewis, to thank for pushing me to go there. In 2012, David and I spent a lot of moments with our work team at a small music college scratching our heads, wondering how to best support musicians who wanted to make a life in the arts. They were grappling with how-to’s, feasibility, and their own becoming as young people. Many were also struggling with addiction, mental illness, grief, and identity on top of the typical growing pains. We realized we needed to make it ok to talk about this stuff in public on our campus and to do so in an accessible way, through music. We had our method: a panel with notable musicians who would talk about their own mental health. We just needed a name. 

On a walk back to campus after having one of our deep planning talks (my favorite) at the Amsterdam (his favorite), "Dissonance" clicked in my head. I screamed it at David out of nowhere, and it was quickly a done deal. In psychology, dissonance is the discomfort of holding or perceiving conflicting beliefs. In music, dissonance is the discomfort or tension of clashing pitches. In both, we seek resolution—i.e. to resolve the discomfort. And that was exactly it for our students: they were pushing toward a developmental leap in their work with us - whether in counseling or career services - and trying to make sense of the discomfort that comes with growth.

When the college started to reduce services for students and my position was cut, I knew it was worth fighting for the rights to Dissonance — both the name and our concept. The idea for a nonprofit was born when David and I gathered a passionate group of professionals who would later become our founding board members. We all voted to start a 501(c)3 organization and did so in 2016, which means we celebrated five years in summer 2021!

When artists continue saying yes to our events and new folks reach out to be involved, that’s a sign we are on the right path. When individuals contact us about the support they have found through our Get Help Directory, it solidifies our goal of linking folks to mental health and recovery resources. And when educators and organizations share our handouts or invite us into their spaces, you can hear the stigma crumbling. 

I can talk endlessly about the cool stuff we have done, the outstanding roster of artists who have played with us, and the inspiring stories we have heard (read the many other posts on this blog for more!). But the most meaningful part of Dissonance to me personally at this moment in time is the lesson that I don't have to keep myself at arms length as a leader here. As the Chair of the Board, I used to unintentionally treat Dissonance as something I oversaw and made nice for others. When I was forced to set a boundary with my time during winter 2021 due to personal life challenges, I finally admitted to the rest of the board that I was afraid to step back, to let go. That’s when they all insisted that I rest and promised to carry on until I was ready for next steps. That acceptance told me everything I needed to know about the community we have created together. Talk about an “aha” moment! It was then I realized this thing I nurtured for everyone else over the years was exactly what - and who - my current self needed. 

It is fair to say I am in awe of the relationships forged in the name of Dissonance and the human beings who offer themselves up to not only our shared cause but to me as a person. In fact, I think some might even appreciate me more for my vulnerability than for my management skills. The Dissonance embrace has been incredibly humbling, enlightening and healing. I practice gratitude for these authentic relationships daily and feel inspired to keep going and growing because of them. 

Our mission of supporting mental health and recovery in and through the arts includes everyone. We all have a mental health story and are all touched by addiction in some way. We also all benefit from the arts in our lives, without a doubt. I am so incredibly proud of the small spark of an idea that has grown into a steady heartbeat here in the Twin Cities. Over time, we’ve been incredibly fortunate to welcome new voices to our board, each of whom has contributed to our evolution as an organization. Our volunteers, artist alumni, event attendees, blog readers, and community collaborators all make Dissonance what it is at any given moment. 

Dissonance combines my passions for creativity, wellness, and relationships, and it’s an honor to be part of this with all of you. I invite anyone reading to check out our monthly Story Well group, attend events, and contribute to our blog. Please also consider Dissonance in your giving plans or come volunteer with us! And stay tuned for our next meaningful and fun project, Dissonance Sessions, which will bring out stories behind the music in a fresh new way that reaches more people and brings us all together. More magic.  

Sarah Souder Johnson, MEd, LPCC, is co-founder and chair of the board for Dissonance, and a mental health therapist at Sentier Psychotherapy. 

Do we still need to talk about mental health?

By Katy Vernon

Around the time in my life I was becoming keenly aware that my drinking was increasing and my mental health was suffering, I started to notice events happening locally that resonated with me. Not just the usual music events, but a new type that included panel discussions around mental health, substance use and sobriety. They featured musicians I loved and admired. Not only did it pull back the curtain on what these artists felt and confronted—or had confronted—in their lives, but it confirmed that a creative-arts career could be a unique and sometimes troubling road even when you’re successful. If these artists could struggle, then what did that mean for those of us who aspired to reach their level? Does society help feed into the idea that problems go away when you reach your artistic goal, or does it reinforce the toxic notion that you always have to suffer to be creative. Is there a healthy balance? Can we listen and learn from artists who have found ways to nurture their health in a business that glorifies bad behavior?

I knew in my gut that I wanted to be a part of these events. But I also knew that I would feel phony unless I first tackled my drinking head-on. I wasn’t ready to give up on my toxic love affair with wine just yet.

Even though I wasn’t sober at the time, I found myself watching from the sidelines at the very start of these ‘Dissonance’ events and felt a powerful pull toward them. Once I was ready to get sober, one of the first people I reached out to was a Dissonance board member. It felt safe knowing that there was a small network of people who might understand my struggles. I needed this connection so much in my life, and it has continued to help me heal and grow in so many ways both mentally and creatively. I am so grateful to be a part of the Dissonance community.

So why—as the headline indicates—am I wondering if we still need these conversations? 

There are days when I feel like the mental health/wellness arena is over-saturated. I wonder if I am preaching to the choir. Every time I talk about undoing stigmas or having honest conversations, I wonder if I might sound like a broken record. Is anyone NOT talking about mental health? Isn’t everyone already diagnosed with anxiety and depression, doesn't every workplace offer wellness programs, doesn’t every bar readily offer N/A options, isn’t everyone already going to therapy? Are there even still stigmas left to smash?

Then I go onto Facebook!

This summer, when a top U.S. gymnast bowed out of the Olympic team competition for reasons related to her mental health, there was such a loud and angry backlash that it shook me to my core. Talk of “giving up,” “selfishness” and worse resonated around the world. The criticism was relentless and cruel. In the next few days, it was announced that Simone Biles was experiencing the “Twisties”—a condition that is incredibly dangerous and could have caused her  extreme injury as she flew through the air performing feats that none of us can even comprehend. Other top athletes came to her defense, and the ensuing dialogue had many sides, but no matter the circumstances leading to her decision, we shouldn’t need the specifics. She doesn’t owe us that. If someone speaks out and says they need to step back and take care of themselves, who are we to judge?

It helped me realize that as far as we have come in treating mental health on par with physical health, we are not “there” yet. There is still so much judgment and ignorance surfacing in sometimes shocking dismissiveness and derision. While I have surrounded myself in a very deliberate manner with people who choose to prioritize these issues, there are still many more people to reach. 

No matter who you are, who you work for, what flag you wear, you do not owe anyone an explanation for your own mental health. Just as we wouldn’t judge an injury or a physical ailment, we must respect the reality of mental ailments, and the ownership and rights of people to talk openly about them. 

The criticism of people in the public eye when they tell us what they are experiencing is harmful to everyone. When they are torn to shreds and belittled by Monday-morning quarterbacks, it has a toxic ripple effect on everyone else who is struggling. As a society, we build people up as role models and then tear them down if they seem weak or don’t fit into a superhuman mold. From gymnasts to princesses, we too often hear loud choruses of criticism—and this reminder has reinforced my commitment to speaking out.

Talking about mental health isn’t weak. Taking time to heal and acknowledging your limits and challenges is strong. 

While such advocacy may seem en vogue, the challenges and need are very real. Kids aren’t faking anxiety and depression to get attention, as some have suggested. Neither are adults. As a parent, I see firsthand the pressure and demands of navigating society in person and online, and if kids can find ways to connect and talk with each other about their mental health, that is a great thing. 

We are living through the biggest collective mental health challenge in a generation, and perhaps the biggest substance use crisis in the nation’s history. Amid COVID-19, global warming and our stark social and economic divides, we are all just trying to survive on a planet that can often feel unsafe.

Commentators will appear on the nightly news and deride the younger generation, or even organizations like Dissonance, for trying to create safe spaces , but why — and what alternative are there? When I ask my kids how they’re doing mentally and emotionally, they tell me they are almost resigned to the fact that the planet is dying and many will never change their behavior to address it. The very least we can do—short of addressing the root issue—is to make it OK for them to process and cope with the genuine anxiety and sadness that accompany such an outlook. Maybe then a healthier next generation can build a brighter future.

I sometimes wonder whether mental health has become a catch-all term wielded for any variety of aims. For example, adults who don’t always seem so committed to the mental health of students leveraged it very well in their call for kids to return to school this fall, even with vaccinations not yet available to many. Is mental health really the main concern, or do economics and convenience underlie the call? While I’m skeptical in the absence of broader calls for mental health solutions across the board, it’s of course true that the pandemic has taken its toll on our wellbeing.

In one way or another, everyone I know has been hurt these past 18 months. The socially anxious have become even more isolated. Outgoing folks have experienced loneliness in a new way. And creative people have lost most of their outlets and income. Personally, I have had to give up being a full-time musician and take on a more stable office job to help support my family and provide health care. I feel sad many days and hopeless on my worst days. 

This doesn’t even begin to acknowledge the mass grieving around the world. Entire families and communities devastated. As a childhood orphan, I feel others’ losses so deeply. And yet it seems like some don’t even care until they are personally touched. It’s hard to relate. And while we scream online about the pandemic’s social and political impact, are we even taking time to acknowledge those who have lost loved ones?

It seems now is the time for more safe spaces and grace, not to declare mission-accomplished on mental health dialogue. I don’t pretend to have the answers or to even know how to talk about it all. We probably need all sorts of ways. I just know I need to feel that people care. That we have each other’s backs. That there is kindness and love all around.

The need for difficult conversations has not gone away. We need to acknowledge and support each other’s struggles more than ever. We need to learn how to take care of ourselves and each other. The answer is yes, we still need to talk about mental health, and the mission of ‘Dissonance’ is as relevant as ever.

Katy Vernon is a professional musician , a mom and spouse, and a Dissonance board member .