There are plenty of possible explanations for that success. Some of the kids and parents the program attracts are clearly driven. Then there’s access to instruments the kids couldn’t otherwise afford, and the lessons, of course. Perhaps more importantly, Harmony Project gives kids a place to go after the bell rings, and access to adults who will challenge and nurture them. Keep in mind, many of these students come from families or neighborhoods that have been ravaged by substance abuse or violence — or both.
Still, Martin suspected there was something else, too — something about actually playing music — that was helping these kids.
Enter neurobiologist Nina Kraus, who runs the Auditory Neuroscience Laboratory at Northwestern University. When a mutual acquaintance at the National Institutes of Health introduced her to Martin, Kraus jumped at the chance to explore Martin’s hunch and to study the Harmony Project kids and their brains.
Before we get to what, exactly, Kraus’ team did or how they did it, here’s a quick primer on how the brain works:
The brain depends on neurons. Whenever we take in new information — through our ears, eyes or skin — those neurons talk to each other by firing off electrical pulses. We call these brainwaves. With scalp electrodes, Kraus and her team can both see and hear these brainwaves.
Using some relatively new, expensive and complicated technology, Kraus can also break these brainwaves down into their component parts — to better understand how kids process not only music but speech, too. That’s because the two aren’t that different. They have three common denominators — pitch, timing and timbre — and the brain uses the same circuitry to make sense of them all.
In other research, Kraus had noticed something about the brains of kids who come from poverty, like many in the Harmony Project. These children often hear fewer words by age 5 than other kids do.
And that’s a problem, Kraus says, because “in the absence of stimulation, the nervous system … hungry for stimulation … will make things up. So, in the absence of sound, what we saw is that there was just more random background activity, which you might think of as static.”
In addition to that “neural noise,” as Kraus calls it, ability to process sound — like telling the difference between someone saying “ba” and “ga” — requires microsecond precision in the brain. And many kids raised in poverty, Kraus says, simply have a harder time doing it; individual sounds can seem “blurry” to the brain. (To hear an analogy of this, using an iconic Mister Rogers monologue — giving you some sense of what the brain of a child raised in poverty might hear — be sure to listen to the audio version of this story.)