Sarah Gillis.jpeg
Dr. Sarah Gillis, MD.
Children attending Red Hotz and Lollipops summer arts camp in Dayton sing together, a tradition in the Miami Valley.
Children attending Red Hotz and Lollipops summer arts camp in Dayton sing together, a tradition in the Miami Valley.
The cameras panned across thousands of fans, arms draped over the shoulders of friends and strangers alike, singing at the top of their lungs. As John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads” echoed through the stadium, an entire crowd seemed to become one voice.
With four kids who play soccer — or, as the rest of the world calls it, fútbol — our television has been tuned to as many World Cup matches as we could squeeze into our summer schedule. Like many Americans, I was disappointed when U.S. Men’s National Teams tournament came to an end. But days later, it wasn’t a spectacular goal or a game-winning save that I kept thinking about.
It was the singing.
A song written more than 50 years ago had somehow become the soundtrack of a new generation of soccer fans. As I watched, I found myself wondering: Why does singing together feel so powerful?
We are living in a time when loneliness and isolation have become a public health concern. We have countless ways to communicate, yet many people feel less connected than ever. Watching a stadium full of people singing, I couldn’t help but wonder whether we were witnessing something our ancestors had understood all along: Making music together isn’t just entertainment. It may be one of the oldest ways humans have cared for one another.
Nearly every culture throughout history has sung together — at weddings and funerals, in places of worship, around campfires, during celebrations, and at sporting events. Long before scientists could explain why, people understood that something remarkable happens when voices rise together.
As an endocrinologist, I’m intrigued by the invisible chemistry that shapes how we feel. We often think of hormones and brain chemicals in the context of medications or disease, but something as simple as singing appears to influence many of those same pathways.
Research suggests that group singing can lower cortisol, our primary stress hormone, while increasing dopamine and endorphins, chemicals associated with pleasure, motivation and reward. Some studies have also found increases in oxytocin, the hormone linked to trust and social connection. This may help explain why people often leave a choir rehearsal, church service or concert feeling lighter than when they arrived.
Singing also asks more of our bodies than most of us realize. It encourages slow, controlled breathing, strengthens the muscles involved in breathing, and naturally lengthens each exhalation. Researchers have even found that singing can increase oxygen consumption and ventilation to levels similar to those of light-to-moderate physical activity.
The breathing benefits of singing have sparked interest far beyond the music world. In recent years, singing has been incorporated into some pulmonary rehabilitation and long COVID recovery programs to help improve breathing control, lung function and confidence. It isn’t a replacement for medical care, but it is another reminder that healing sometimes comes from unexpected places.
As fascinating and as complex as the science is, it isn’t what stayed with me.
It was watching thousands of people, many of whom had never met, singing as though they’d known one another for years. For a few minutes, differences disappeared. Everyone knew the words. Everyone belonged.
Studies suggest that when people sing together, their breathing often begins to synchronize, and in some settings even their heart rhythms begin to align. Maybe that synchronization is part of why singing has united communities for thousands of years, not just emotionally, but physically as well.
The beautiful thing is that we don’t have to travel across the world to experience that kind of belonging. It happens closer to home than we often realize — in church choirs and school concerts, around campfires, during backyard karaoke on the Fourth of July, and in community theater productions where strangers become friends. Here in the Miami Valley, our family has found it each summer through Red Hotz & Lollipops, a beloved community music program that has brought generations of children together. We watch our own children rehearse for weeks, then step onto the stage with nervous excitement as parents beam from the audience. Year after year, it has become one of our family’s and our community’s favorite traditions and a reminder that singing has a unique way of bringing people together.
As physicians, we spend a great deal of time talking about nutrition, exercise, sleep, blood pressure and cholesterol — and we should. Those conversations matter.
But health is also shaped by joy. By purpose. By meaningful relationships. By moments that remind us we belong.
So the next time someone invites you to sing along, don’t worry about whether you can carry a tune. Belt out “Country Roads” with the crowd. Cheer through your child’s summer performance. Say yes to karaoke with friends. Join the choir. Add your voice.
Perhaps that is why humans have gathered to sing for thousands of years.
Not because we all have beautiful voices.
But because, every once in a while, we all need to be reminded that we were never meant to sing alone.
Sarah Gillis.jpeg
Dr. Sarah Gillis, MD.
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