Jim Gill: The Children’s Music Icon on Play, Early Literacy, and Avoiding Burnout

With over 40 years of singing and entertaining kids and families, Jim Gill is just as energetic as ever.  His humorous songwriting blended with interactive play was not only revolutionary for the genre, but has had staying power with librarians, educators, and caregivers for generations. I was able to catch up with Jim at Oak Creek Library last month, where he was leading a teaching workshop during the day for librarians, and a family concert in the neighboring park that evening.   

I found your backstory and education so interesting, and it felt fundamental to how your career has turned out. Would you be willing to share your story of how it all started?

When I was a teenager I worked at an arts camp for children and teens with special needs. It was THE BEST part of my teen years. When I moved to Chicago, at 20, to go to college I was asked if I might be interested in leading weekly play groups for families with young children with special needs for a therapeutic play program in one of the Chicago suburbs.

The women who ran that program, which was called Lekotek (Swedish for “Play Library”), envisioned a weekly developmental play group that would include children with special needs, Birth thru 8 years old, as well as parents, grandparents and typically developing siblings. Many of the children that attended had some pretty significant delays, and although the program was not specifically a music program, I shared a lot of musical games as part of the content. I shared songs that I knew from the arts camp as well as songs that I learned from children’s records and folk records…that I borrowed from the library!

After a year of leading Saturday morning play groups for this program, I was asked to lead weekly play groups for another therapeutic program in a different suburb. This program was a speech and language clinic that served, primarily, children on the autism spectrum. It is important to note that I was studying education at the time and had no musical training. I led the playgroups by simply singing songs and finger plays and, at times, playing other people’s recorded songs on a cassette-playing boom box!

But I was learning to play the banjo at the time. I was taking lessons on finger picking and, after practicing, would spend time strumming some of the songs that I was singing at the play groups. Soon I started making up some of my own simple musical games that I could use in my play groups. At some point I was asked by preschools and elementary schools if I could visit for concerts. These kept me busy, but I did not really enjoy them because they were different from my play groups, where the children and adults all gathered together and worked together towards the goal of developmental play.

I expected that, upon graduation, I might pursue some further studies that would, perhaps, allow me to become a therapist of some kind. But my mentors at graduate school encouraged me to continue doing what I was doing, leading the play groups and trying to structure my concerts in a way that would make them more like my play groups: joyful, but purposeful. I led the weekly play groups for 20 years for various therapeutic, developmental and educational agencies, I led more and more concerts, and began recording the songs that I created through my play groups. And I published a couple of musical books. At some point I realized that it had become “a career!”

When did you realize that you “made it” as a performer?

I love this work and I appreciate every opportunity to share my songs and books with young children and families. But I don’t really think of it as “performing.” And I don’t ever really think that I have “made it!” I approach my concerts in the same way that I approached my family play groups for all of those years. I don’t really “perform” my songs. My goal is to get everyone – children, parents, grandparents and other caring adults – joining in and playing together.

I do lead some concerts in theaters around the country, and those are wonderful opportunities. But my favorite spots to lead concerts are in library meeting rooms. Most families gather on the floor together and sing and dance and play together. These concerts are like bigger versions of my family play groups.

In my work, I end up in some pretty unconventional spaces. For the past couple of years, a community group in Burlington, Iowa has invited me to lead concerts in a shopping mall. I typically refuse to lead concerts in shopping malls, but most of the stores in this mall are closed. This past year we used an abandoned store to carry out a follow-up literacy project after my concert. No typical person would consider this an example of “making it” as a performer. But I love it, and I suspect that librarians, who lead story times in some unconventional spaces, will understand my enthusiasm for those events.

You kept stressing “the words are the motions” during your workshop, meaning what you say, sing, or do in a performance should keep kids engaged. Why is interaction so important as a performer?

This is something that applies most to folks who do programming, such as librarians who lead story time programs or preschool teachers who are leading a circle time. I developed a style of writing songs that combined word play and rhymes in the context of active movement games. Not every song of mine is like that, but the songs of mine that people like best are those songs, like “Hands are for Clapping” and “Jump Up, Turn Around.”

I don’t believe that every song should be like that. A song like “Baby Beluga” is so sweet and I love it, just as it is. When preschool teachers share that song in a circle time, however, they end up adding motions to the words to keep the children engaged with the song. But a hand motion for “a whale” can get tricky for young children in general, and certainly for children with special needs.

So my song “Spin Again” is about a game in which we all spin. I am not asking children to pretend that they are spinning tops or on a merry-go-round because frankly, most of the children that I was working with at the time weren’t very good at pretending and a “pretend game” would have left them out. But they loved sensory play like spinning. In my own way I was honoring their abilities by writing a song that met their special needs.  We might say this is “honoring their neurodiversity”, but this was 30 years ago. But I ended up with a song that works well for ALL children.

One of the key takeaways from your workshop was a kind of “show, don’t tell” philosophy. That demonstrating early literacy skills within a performance is more beneficial than stating them. Can you elaborate on that and explain your rationale?

I began doing this work before I had even graduated from college, so I wouldn’t have had the knowledge or inclination to tell adults why it was important for them to be involved and engaged during the program. In graduate school I also had the opportunity to visit and study programs that did a wonderful job of intentionally creating environments that helped young children sustain focus while providing opportunities for them to learn.

Unfortunately (and I am embarrassed to admit this) I did go through a phase after graduate school where I became a little “preachy” about HOW and WHY the adults needed to interact with their children at my concerts. And, interestingly, my clients seemed to like it! The preachier I was, the more serious it seemed. This did not last long because one of my favorite professors from graduate school attended a concert and told me that she thought I was “more successful when, instead of TELLING people WHAT to do, you just got them doing it.”

I knew exactly what she was saying and the “preachy” phase did not last long. I returned to the lessons that I learned, in my 20s, about family support and put that together with what I learned in graduate school about environments. I started thinking more about how I could achieve my goals about family engagement by working, more purposefully, to make that happen. All without saying it.

It’s clear that you love performing, whether it’s for a room of librarians or a group of children. Whether the turnout is a huge concert or just a small classroom. How do you adjust your approach, and how do you make sure everyone stays engaged?

I love to share my songs and books, but I really don’t think of it as a “performance.” My goal is to get everyone, the children and the caring adults with them, joining in. Of course there are different strategies for a concert hall with 600 seats, or a library meeting room, or a school cafeteria. And that is what I think about when I arrive at a venue. What is my strategy for THIS room? And what is my back-up plan?

I visited a program in Arizona last year and the host had reserved a LARGE auditorium. Probably 600 seats. But I immediately noticed that the lobby was also large and carpeted and would make a great space for a concert of up to 150 people. At a certain point it was clear that attendance was going to be about 100, so we quickly moved a portable PA system into the lobby and had a GREAT concert right there, in that space.

The Daniel Boone Regional Library in Columbia, MO invited me to lead a concert earlier this year at a big, beautiful theater in town. I was all set up and, as families arrived at the theater, I stood in the lobby with my banjo and greeted everyone. I was thrilled that so many people showed up, on a rainy night, and I wanted to convey that. And I think everyone is more prepared to sing along if they have already met me! Greeting everyone also allows me to see how many toddlers, preschoolers, or school-agers are there. Because I adjust my concerts a bit, depending on who is attending. I think most “performers” would have been in the dressing room until the last moment, unaware that it was raining outside.

Mental health and workload are real concerns right now among librarians, and public service workers in general. Between your library workshop and your evening concert, you basically did two high energy shows back-to-back. What helps you recenter and keep showing up for a community like this, and do you have any advice for anyone dealing with burnout?

As a child I spent LOTS of time at the branch library in my hometown of Rockford, Illinois. In 5th and 6th grade I repeatedly checked out all of the books on magic and magicians that were on the shelves and the librarian taught me how to order more books from the main library. And, in high school, the library even hired me to do a few magic shows!  The librarian also created a “neighborhood newspaper” so that a couple of friends and I, who were there almost every day after school, would stay busy writing and reading. She didn’t have to do that extra work, but she did. I am so thankful for having that community space and the caring staff available to me as a child.

When I am at my best, my approach to work reflects that appreciation. At my last training workshop, there were some people that had driven hours to be there. Others had worked that morning and made their way there for the afternoon. And LOTS of those people use my songs in story time! I wanted the workshop to reflect my appreciation for all of that. And that same day, I led a concert for families. Again, folks had worked all day and brought their children to the library and I wanted to honor that. The way that I can best honor that is by bringing my best energy to the event and get everyone singing and dancing and playing together.

Earlier I used the expression “when I am at my best.” None of us are always at “our best.” On those days or at those times within a day when I am not “at my best,” I try to take a private moment -in my car, anywhere – and acknowledge to myself how I am feeling, but remind myself that it is not fair to my clients or the children and families to have that be reflected in my work. I think that I am, in general, a kind, caring and conscientious person. But sometimes I need to remind myself that I can and should be kind, caring and conscientious even if I am feeling challenged on that day.

You come across as an extroverted person and a natural performer. What would you say to someone that wants to incorporate some of your style, but is perhaps more introverted or doesn’t have that natural flair?

I spend A LOT of time thinking and working with my band members and other collaborators about how those songs and books can convey. So if someone is more introverted than I am – which is almost everyone – they can use a song of mine, like “Silly Dance Contest” as a resource to bring silly energy to the program. You can say something like, “I think it is time to play a song by a very silly man named Jim Gill. I am excited to see how silly everyone can dance and how EXTRA silly everyone can freeze!” During the song, that person should dance a bit to the music, but does not need to be the silliest dancer in the room. The recording will provide the musical energy and if the children and families are encouraged, the game will be about THEM, not the story time leader!

The same is true with my book, “A Soup Opera.” The accompanying soundtrack provides energizing orchestration and the silly voices. With encouragement, the children and families will soon be joining in. Honestly, I think it is best if folks develop their own style of how to lead programming and, if they care to, use my songs and books to bring some silly energy every now and then. I am honored when folks put my songs and books to use in that way!

Reach Jim at jimgill.com.  Find his music on Spotify, Amazon, and all other major music streaming services. You can find our 2008 Jim Gill interview here.

Peter Blenski has been a children’s librarian in the Milwaukee and Waukesha area for over a decade.  He runs the popular library blog, Lego Librarian, where he talks about library programming and marketing.  In 2021, he served on the 100th Newbery Award Selection Committee, which gave the award to “The Last Cuentista” by Donna Barba Higuera.  He recently served on the 2026 Geisel Award Selection Committee, which gave the award to “Stop That Mop!” by Jonathan Fenske.