I was moved by this piece I just read about playlists. Downloading Empathy to Your iPod shares the story of Justine Saylors, who lost her thirteen year-old son Lance to the cancer, neuroblastoma, and who has been using playlists to help with the grief. It turns out Justine is one of many who have been posting iMixes to the iTunes store in response to personal tragedies. The spirit in which these mixes are shared is matched by the depth of feelings they reflect:

By the time another October arrived, Saylors had amassed a sizable collection of some of the most heartbreaking music to be found on iTunes. And nearly all of it had been recommended not by professional critics or some sort of Amazonian collaborative filtering bot, but by people who -- judging from notes posted with their iMixes or just the song selections alone -- seemed to Justine to be much like herself: hurting, missing someone special, reaching out.

I love the way the personal and shared collections of songs (and their related) emotions float to the surface above, let's hope, the selections of the latest celebrity. I also appreciate the ways that the online space is making these personal connections possible.

Lately, we've been working with playlists in class. As with most things at college, we've gravitated toward the intellectual questions: can a playlist tell a story or be persuasive? What intellectual property decisions matter when making a playlist? Etc. Etc. "Downloading Empathy" picks up on these concerns as well, citing Derek Slater:

"Instead of primarily disc jockeys and music videos shaping how we view music, we have a greater opportunity to hear from each other," he and Gartner researcher Mike McGuire wrote in their December study. "These [playlist] tools allow people to play a greater role in shaping culture, which, in turn, shapes themselves. In this way, recommendation tools encourage music fans to engage in expressive acts, becoming creators."

I think it is this impulse to respond that makes Justine's mix and similar playlists powerful. Of course, there is the deeply felt connection between music and emotions (sad or happy), but being able to shift and sort and compile allows us to go from absorbing to sharing. I'm saddened that it has taken a playlist like Missing My Son, Lance to reinforce for me just how important, human, and personal this response can be.