“Throughout human history, creating social bonds across large groups has been one of our most persistent challenges. Emerging research suggests that group singing may be one of our most powerful tools for doing so.” — Kendra Hoffman, Founder of Ladybug Earthcare
In 2016, I applied for and received a grant to do research in Nepal. I was 19 and went with two friends from the country, where we spent two months exploring different forms of education. When I say “research,” I say it lightly, because what I mostly found myself doing was leading song circles about moose and mangos.
The grant allowed me to visit three schools: one public school in Kathmandu; one private school in rural Western Nepal founded by my friend Prakash, nowhere near Everest but on the opposite side of the country; and another school in the city founded on Buddhist principles. The original idea was that I would shadow classes and quietly observe. I imagined myself taking notes in the back of rooms, trying to understand the structure of things. That is not what happened.
At the public school in Kathmandu, I was brought into a classroom of about 60 students and then left there alone. I remember standing in front of them and realizing no one was coming back to tell me what to do. I did not have a lesson prepared. I did not have a plan. The only thing that felt natural, the only thing that did not require translation, was singing.
So I started singing.
Silly songs about being a chicken with one foot. The kind of songs that feel slightly embarrassing when you are 19 and trying to be taken seriously. The children joined immediately, and for the length of the song, the kids were completely focused. Sixty voices moving together created a kind of order that did not come from discipline. It came from participation.
When the song ended, the room returned to its normal energy: movement, noise, the full aliveness of a public classroom anywhere in the world. But I had seen enough to understand that something real had happened in those minutes of singing.
At Prakash’s school in his home village of Lalu, Kalikot, it unfolded similarly, only this time there were around 200 students. So we circled. We stood shoulder to shoulder, and we sang. I recently received a message from one of those students telling me he is now completing his master’s degree. He reached out simply to say he still remembers singing the Mango Song.
The songs came from global peace camps I had attended beginning at the age of 11. These were places where children from many countries gathered and held hands before meals, giving thanks in different languages before eating. We came from different histories, and each day we sang together. This is where all the songs came from: the “Purple Soup” song, the “El Pollo” song, the Finnish song we sang to give thanks for our food:
Kiitos ruuasta
Se oli maukasta
Takk for maten
Den var god
Vi ere alle mette nu
Ikke nu, ikke nu, ikke nu, men nu
Somewhere between being 11 years old in that circle and being 19 in Nepal, the song circle had already been born. I just did not know it had a name. All I knew was that when I did not know what to offer, I could offer my voice. And not just mine. I could offer a shared experience through song, where everyone could participate. Singing created a shared field without requiring a shared language.
And this year, the song circle returned with full force. I never fully considered the implications of stepping into the identity of a songleader until one of my Instagram videos went viral. Our trio of facilitators was invited to lead song at a corporate event.
Imagine the power of 200 women singing:
“I’m not alone.”
Over and over again.
Something remarkable happened with the video of this song circle I posted.
More than 570,000 people viewed it.
More than 36,000 people sent it to someone else.
Nearly 2,000 people commented.
The song circle is making waves globally. To me, it feels like a form of collaborative activism, one rooted in participation. After hundreds of years spent fragmenting the community, there is an undeniable movement back toward it.
And community is power. The future will be sung. The song circle has been solicited in schools to teach vocal leadership and collaboration.
Alongside two other songleaders, Tarzan Kay and Kendra Hoffman, we’ve recently launched SongBridge, a collaborative singing project designed to bring joy, connection and a sense of belonging to retreats and events where influential leaders gather through song circles.
This emergent project aims to introduce this body-based experience to spaces where it hasn’t traditionally existed, creating opportunities for vocal reclamation, grounding and coherence among leaders and changemakers.
Our goal is to bring the unifying power and healing magic of song to those who can share it with the world through their wide and diverse networks and positions of influence.
May the power structures in our world be transformed by the nature of song circles.