Why Don’t We Teach Kids the Language of Sound?

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We teach young children how to recognize colors and shapes. We teach them to name emotions. These are foundational skills for everything from math to art to language developing. Teaching them to name sounds may be just as powerful. So, why don’t we do it with that awareness?

Music education is widely accepted as valuable for children. Young kids can learn to identify whether music is fast or slow, or how music makes them feel – excited, happy, sad, bored. Over time, that vocabulary expands, and children begin to recognize that what they’re feeling internally (“happy”) is connected to something happening externally (“my favorite song”). They are learning to notice that sound affects them. That guided conversation often ends with music, though.

Extending the Language Beyond Music

Sound exists far beyond songs and instruments, yet we rarely extend the same descriptive language to the rest of the auditory world.

When a young child points out a bird, I don’t just say, “That’s a bird.” I might ask: Do you like that sound? Is it cute or annoying? What do you think the bird is trying to say? Is he mad that we are too close? Is he concerned because he can’t find his bird friends?

Those questions do more than identify the source of a sound. They build awareness – connecting an internal perception to an external sound.

In music education, children are taught to identify mood and tone. They learn that tempo, melody, or the chords used can influence how something feels. What is often overlooked is that this process also teaches them to recognize their internal response to external stimuli. The leap from music to everyday sound is not much, but it’s not something that we consciously teach.

For example, a vacuum cleaner is not simply loud; it may feel harsh. A classroom is not just busy; it may feel chaotic. When children are given words for those differences, they begin to develop perceptual awareness. They learn that sound is not just something that happens around them, but something that interacts with them.

Translating Sensation Into Language

During my Master’s program, a professor once handed us a piece of chocolate and asked us to describe the experience of eating it using audio terms. The exercise required us to step outside our usual framework. Dark chocolate could be described as harsh. A smooth melt could feel warm or rounded. The goal was not to describe chocolate precisely, but to practice translating sensation into shared language.

That same translation happens constantly in professional audio work. I find it much more productive for a director or producer to descibe what they feel (or want to feel) than to talk about frequencies. They might say something is too heavy or too much; they want it warmer or lighter; or it needs to feel more uncomfortable. That shared vocabulary sharpens communication.

Why It Matters

Most people take their perception of sound for granted. A sound is “over there.” Music “makes me calm.” A noise is “annoying.” But sound shapes attention, mood, and memory in ways that are often invisible. When children learn to name what they hear – not just identify its source, but describe its character and impact – they gain a way to understand how the outside world affects their inner one.

We teach children to distinguish red from blue and to label sadness or excitement. Sound deserves the same care. Once something has a name, it becomes easier to understand, to communicate, and, when necessary, to change.