When most people think of Parkinson’s Disease, they think of movement challenges—tremors, stiffness, imbalance. But for those living with Parkinson’s, the story goes much deeper. It’s not just about physical symptoms—it’s about identity, connection, communication, and joy. That’s where dance, and more broadly, the creative arts, come in.
Dance Nova Scotia’s Dance for Health: Seniors initiative has long recognized the power of dance as a tool for wellness and community. Inspired by the pioneering work of Karen Kohn Bradley and researcher Rebecca Barnstaple, the program offers intentional, inclusive movement classes for individuals with Parkinson’s and related conditions. I was first introduced to this program as a facilitator and immediately saw its potential—not just for physical wellness, but for emotional and social healing too.
Sara Adams
Dancer and Educator
This realization sparked the foundation of my recent thesis project: a six-week expressive arts therapy program designed specifically for individuals with Parkinson’s Disease. Built on the foundation of Dance for Health, the program expanded to include music, visual art, drama, and storytelling—what we call an intermodal expressive arts approach.
So, what happened when dance met drawing, rhythm met reflection, and movement met memory?
Magic.
Throughout the six weeks, I witnessed participants reclaim parts of themselves that often go dormant with a Parkinson’s diagnosis. There was laughter, storytelling, spontaneous singing, and heartfelt art-making. Participants who were quiet in week one were leading call-and-response rhythms by week four. We danced the seasons, shaped memories into clay, and passed an imaginary flame around the circle in a final act of shared storytelling. One participant described the experience as “a return to joy.”
And there’s science to back this up. Research shows that engaging in multiple creative modalities activates brain regions responsible for reward, memory, and emotion. Dance improves motor coordination and balance. Music regulates mood and supports rhythmic movement. Visual art enhances spatial awareness and self-expression. When combined, these elements promote neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to adapt and change—even in the face of neurodegeneration.
But perhaps the most powerful findings were not neurological—they were human. Over time, I saw social walls come down and trust build up. The group began to function not just as a class, but as a community. People felt seen, heard, and celebrated—not just for their progress, but for their presence.
Programs like Dance for Health are more than just movement classes. They are lifelines. They remind participants—and facilitators like me—that even in the face of illness, we can still access creativity, connection, and joy. We can still dance, even if the dance looks different now.
This project reaffirmed what I’ve long believed: that movement is not just physical—it’s emotional, relational, and deeply expressive. When we move together, we heal together. And that, to me, is the true heart of dance.
Let’s keep the momentum going. Let’s continue to expand access to creative arts programming for seniors and those living with chronic illness. Let’s keep dancing, drawing, drumming, and dreaming—together.