I did a performance at a senior facility in New Hampshire in a specialized area for approximately forty residents. Some of these folks were in ‘Geri-chairs’ (large, cushioned, lounge-type chairs with wheels on them), some in wheelchairs, some sitting on the seat of their walker and a few in regular chairs with their canes close by. The staff was out of the room. I assumed they felt comfortable leaving me alone with the residents knowing if something happened, I would call out for assistance. I performed a couple of songs and noticed not one person applauded or made any sort of sound or motion to convey they were enjoying my music. In fact, they didn’t respond at all. They just…stared at me. 
A lot of them were reclined back with their mouths open and a vacant look on their faces. While in the middle of a third song, my mind started wandering to random thoughts of, “Why am I here?” “These people are zombies.” “A radio would be just as good for these people instead of paying me.” But…I am a professional. I was getting paid and it’s my job to perform as if I was at Carnegie Hall, regardless of the lack of response.
So, I started into my fourth song and when I was halfway through, I happened to glance down at the hand of a man who was about two feet in front of me to my left, leaning back in a Geri-chair, with his mouth open and a vacant, eyes-wide-open look on his face. I noticed his index finger was moving up and down in perfect time to the tempo of the song I was singing. I then look over to a woman off to my right in a wheelchair and she was ever-so-slightly moving her head to one side, again, in perfect time to the tempo of my song. I then looked off to the left and noticed another woman moving her foot, ever-so-subtly, and yes…in perfect time to my song. I couldn’t believe it. I was such a fool. I was so embarrassed and ashamed of myself. There were people inside of those bodies. And…they were enjoying my music.
I soon came to realize if those three displayed some subtle signs of enjoyment, there must be more of them who weren’t capable of doing so because they didn’t have control of their bodies. I finished my show and immediately went over to a staff person and asked about the residents. She shared some stories about some of them. When I got home, I started writing a song to honor and represent this particular group of the senior population.

A Person Inside

singer/songwriter/musician, husband, father, grandfather, great grandfather, pickleball enthusiast and instructor, from NYC, residing in VT

A Person Inside

Corey N Gottfried