Joey Peavey – Accomplished artist, musician, humanitarian and an all around amazing human being.
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Website: JoeyPeavey.com
Writing of his experiences playing for Nursing Home Residents – Shared October 28, 2020:
I wouldn’t torture you with a long read if I didn’t think it was worth your time. I found this writing of Joey’s that was written many months prior to Covid and wow is all I can say. With the recommendation of posting this from a friend (who asked for this to be on a poster, lol), here is Joey’s essay written over a year ago. Oh and Joey’s approval to post:
After the countless times I’ve said my goodbyes to the listeners, I’ve learned many, many stories. They have all been vastly varying, and none may I have presumed from looks alone. These are people too. They have lived the same lives as the rest of us and yet they are seemingly forgotten by society; blown abroad like dust in the wind. The people that once were us, left inside these monotonous walls of sanctuaries that they’ll spend the rest of their lives in. Imagining myself in those shoes, petrifies me beyond belief.
My Nana used to live in a nursing home a city over from my house. We visited frequently and I still recall vivid memories of the times I’ve spent with her. I was fascinated by the baby grand piano that was in the lobby. Every time I was there, It was never to be interacted with, never to be touched. It never moved an inch, and never played a note. I’ve always been hands-on and the thought of having 88 keys at my disposal enlightened me.
The days of visiting Nana became a distant memory as months turned to years and frankly I forgot about as I became a teen. At 13, I had been playing the guitar for a considerable amount of time and was getting bored with the same routine. I ventured into the deep depths of my basement and found a cheap Casio keyboard I used to play belligerently, with nothing changed but accumulated dust. I propped it up, and soon enough it became my new favorite pastime. Fast forward a few years later to when I became somewhat competent at the instrument, a conversation with my mother triggered the memory of the piano at the nursing home Nana had stayed. I compiled a set list and asked to play that one baby grand piano at the senior center that I had long forgotten about until that day. Soon enough, I became a centerpiece to many of the residents.
In retrospect, I was not anywhere close to being a good pianist. Nor did I even know the music that I was playing for them well. Nor did I even play music that they even had a chance of recognizing. There was still a crowd. Time and time again, the same faces came back to listen. As I continued to play there, I got to know many of the residents there on a personal level. I noticed that there was a singularity that reoccurred throughout many of my conversations with them; that they don’t have much to look forward to. Entertainment was sparse. To hear live music was the revolving point of their day. It was quite melancholic to hear.
I did not want to end up living a life of repetition, in a repetitious building, living a repetitious schedule. I branched out and performed at several other facilities, all with the same result. I further challenged myself and decided to venture out to the Dementia units. Yielding yet the same previous result. The more facilities I visited, the more I saw isolation. Most people aren’t aware of the lives of these residents, and not enough is being done to improve it. At first glance, many of these homes are lavish and grand with competent caretakers and staff. Which indeed is true, but that can only give so much. It doesn’t address monotony. Entertainment is the single-most effective way to cut that monotony.
When I grow old, I would want something to look forward to. I wouldn’t want to live a life of what many are living right now. There is a need for entertainment. With lack thereof, living a monotonous life confined in the same residency that you’ll live the rest of life in, is a thought to be avoided.
