The Charlotte Jewish News- September 2026- Page 9
All in the Mishpachah:“ It Became One of the Ways People Told Me They Loved Me”
Kenny Kahn rings the bell marking the completion of his chemotherapy treatment
Kenny Kahn and his family
By Elizabeth Johnson
Some organizations begin with a business plan. Others, with a deeply personal sense of purpose. For Kenny Kahn, founder and board chair of MusicLand Gift Foundation, that calling has grown into an intentional determination to bring people together while helping advance a more holistic approach to cancer care.
Through philanthropy, advocacy and the connective power of music, the Charlotte-based foundation is working to broaden what care can look like for both patients as well as the people who love them. I recently spoke with Kahn about the journey that led him to establish MusicLand Gift Foundation, the vision driving its work today and what he hopes its impact will be for years to come.
Before MusicLand Gift Foundation existed, there was Kenny Kahn the husband, father and businessman. Can you tell us a little about your life before your cancer diagnosis and what was most important to you during that chapter of your life? Before my cancer diagnosis, I was, first and foremost, a husband and a father, the two most important roles of my life. Everything else grew from there. One of my greatest influences was my grandfather. Wherever he lived or worked, he believed in giving back to his community. His example shaped how I approached both family as well as business and instilled in me a commitment to serve others.
Throughout my career, I also had the privilege of building relationships with colleagues and clients around the world, experiences that broadened my perspective and deepened my appreciation for different cultures and communities. Together, these collective experiences have reinforced a belief I still hold today: Regardless of where we come from, building meaningful relationships, investing in people and strengthening our communities leaves the most lasting impact.
In 2021, your life changed with a lymphoma diagnosis. Looking back, what do you remember most about those first days, and how did they reshape your perspective on life? I remember so much about that time. What stands out most is how quickly everything changed. As my symptoms accelerated, I couldn’ t understand why I was feeling so terrible. It took about a month as well as a team of dedicated doctors to determine what was happening. By then, my condition had worsened significantly, and hearing the words“ Diffuse Large B-Cell Non-Hodgkin’ s Lymphoma, Stage IV” was a gut punch.
I was scared, not just for myself, but for my family and all the people who depended on me. Once I understood the diagnosis and my comprehensive treatment plan, however, some of the fear of the unknown began to subside. I had tremendous confidence in my doctors and in the way Levine Cancer Institute approached my care. This in turn gave me great confidence as I began to understand what the journey ahead would entail.
What took far longer to grasp was how profoundly cancer would change my perspective. For a long time, I thought the goal was to get through cancer and return to the life I’ d had before. Eventually, I realized I wasn’ t meant to do that. There was no going back to who I had been before cancer, nor did I want to.
Your foundation grew from something deeply personal: the healing role music played during your cancer journey. Was there a particular song, artist or moment that made you realize music was doing something medicine alone could not? Soon after my diagnosis, friends began sending me playlists, songs and videos to lift my spirits. It became one of the indirect ways people told me they loved me. I’ ll never forget my daughter Rachel’ s university friends sharing music with me, or my dear friend Deb Taffler in London introducing me to Koolulam. I had never heard of them before, but watching thousands of people come together to sing with one voice was incredibly moving.
It’ s important to remember this was all happening during COVID-19. At Levine Cancer Institute, patients were allowed only a limited number of support people.. While that was difficult for me, I think it was even harder for the people who couldn’ t be there beside me. That’ s where music became something more than entertainment.
Koolulam, U2 and countless other artists accompanied me, always. In between treatments, I found myself exploring every musical rabbit hole imaginable; my Spotify playlists can certainly testify to that. Music gave me comfort, hope, connection and a sense that I was never truly alone. In many ways, it helped heal parts of me that medicine simply couldn’ t.
Your website also speaks to how your daughter, Rachel, leaned on music while navigating your diagnosis from afar. How did that experience shape your understanding of music’ s ability to bring comfort, connection and hope, not only to patients, but to the people who love them? Rachel being away at university during this time was exceptionally challenging because my doctors, concerned about my compromised immune system, didn’ t want to risk her bringing the virus home. And so, we stayed connected through FaceTime, countless phone calls, and our mutual love of music.
We’ d talk about what we were listening to. She introduced me to One Direction and Harry Styles. I especially recall how deeply she connected with Florence + The Machine’ s“ Shake It Out.” Looking back, I realized music wasn’ t just helping me navigate cancer; it was also giving Rachel and me a shared language for emotions that were often too painful to put into words.
Many people think of cancer only in terms of chemotherapy, radiation or surgery. Your experience introduced you to supportive oncology, a model that cares for the whole person. How did that approach change your own cancer journey? Supportive oncology played a critical role in my cancer journey. While chemotherapy was essential, I quickly learned how much cancer was affecting me physically, psychologically and emotionally.
My care team understood that and cared for more than my diagnosis. Nutrition helped my body withstand treatment, while psychological support and physical therapy helped me navigate its emotional and physical toll. Massage therapy provided relief, and music as well as art offered comfort, expression and moments of normalcy during a time when very little felt ordinary. I never felt reduced to a diagnosis; my doctors cared for me as a person, which taught me that healing extends far beyond medicine, a philosophy that continues to shape how I think about cancer care today.
Rather than simply giving back, you chose to create MusicLand Gift Foundation with a bold vision of helping Atrium Health Levine Cancer Institute develop a national model for cancer survivorship. What convinced you this was the mission you wanted to dedicate yourself to? As I came to understand the reach of Atrium Health and now, Advocate Health, I began to ask a simple question: If someone is being treated for cancer in northern Wisconsin or Illinois, rural North or South Carolina, are they receiving the same kind of holistic care as me? And unfortunately, in many cases, the answer was no. I came to understand how essential philanthropy is to expanding access to that care, particularly when insurance coverage is limited. In time, I discovered the hospital leaders also held the conviction that neither geography, insurance coverage nor access to philanthropy should determine the care a patient receives. That’ s when MusicLand’ s mission became clear to me. Rather than simply giving back to the place that had taken such extraordinary care of me, I wanted the foundation to demonstrate what is possible and advance a sustainable model to improve the cancer journey for patients and families beyond Charlotte.
Why should readers be excited about the Koolulam fundraising event you’ re hosting on Sept. 26? What insider details can you reveal about what folks can expect? Koolulam is difficult to fully explain until you’ ve experienced it. 1,200 people, most of them strangers, will come together to learn one song and sing as one voice. You don’ t have to be a singer; that’ s the point. People from vastly different backgrounds will let their guard down to create something extraordinary. Having watched Koolulam from a treatment chair during some of the hardest days of my life, bringing that same feeling of connection and hope to Charlotte is so special to me. Attendees will be part of something, and my hope is that they leave having enjoyed an experience that stays with them long after the final note.
“ Hope” is a word that often accompanies conversations about cancer. What does it mean to you today, and how do you envision MusicLand Gift Foundation turning that sense of possibility into lasting change? If you’ re not a cancer patient, living with a rare disease or loving someone who is, hope can sound like a soft word. It is anything but. It gives you the strength to keep moving forward when you don’ t know what the outcome will be. I want MusicLand Gift Foundation to inspire people into action. I’ m proud of what we’ ve already been able to achieve, from patient care and research to medical student internships, visiting professor programs and now THRIVE. Looking ahead, I would love to see the model of supportive oncology and survivorship care developed by Dr. Declan Walsh and his team expand throughout the Carolinas and, ultimately, across the entire Advocate Health footprint. MusicLand is but one small part of a much larger effort. What matters is that, together, we leave cancer care better than we found it for the next patient and the next family who will need it.
ALL IN THE M I S H P A C H A H