From the Vital Sounds Initiative, PMHU—
There are moments in this work that remind you—quietly, without performance—what it means to be in connection with other people.
Last week, one of our Vital Sounds Initiative musicians, Sean Mulligan, shared a story that highlights the quiet, transformative power of music in unexpected places.
In the first session of his day, Sean was paired with an older man who spoke very little at first. The man’s camera was off.
Sean began his set with South American and Caribbean selections, gradually building toward the classic Cuban song Guantanamera.
That’s when something shifted.
The man began to sing.
He then revealed that he was from Guantánamo, Cuba, and for the first time in the session, he opened up—sharing stories from his life. He spoke candidly about the violence he had witnessed and endured in his life, about what it means to live as a person of color, and about the pain of often being misunderstood or disrespected.
He reflected on how meaningful it was to hear the music of his culture played by someone who didn’t look like him – expressing how it made him feel like “maybe we aren’t so divided after all.”
“Though the camera was off”, Sean said, “I was later told there were tears in his eyes as he kept repeating, “I’m a good person.” Only at the end, when guards entered and a chaplain assisted the transition, did I learn he was incarcerated. Until then, our rapport had formed naturally, grounded in trust and shared experience through music.
These moments are the essence of the Vital Sounds Initiative.
Music opens doors to memory, invites trust, and reminds each listener that they are seen, heard, and worthy of connection. Music makes space. For openness. For memory. For release.
It reaches people where language might fail—and in that space, trust can be built.
—David Norville