Terah Cox is the author of 10 books and lyric writer for over 150 recorded songs
(https://www.terahcox.com/). I met Terah at her “Words Matter” shop (https://www.terahcox.com/words-matter-shop.html) in Staunton, Virginia. I have been impressed with her approach to, and how she thinks about, the world. When she came out with her latest book, Different Ships, Same Boat: Songs for the Soul of America, I was excited to read and engage with it. Having read it, I asked if she would agree to be interviewed. She agreed and I would like to thank her for her time and effort. Here is our exchange:

Question: The title of your book Different Ships, Same Boat: Songs for the Soul of America was inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s words: “We may have come on different ships, but we’re in the same boat now.” Different ships speaks to our past, same boat to our present. Your book raises the twin serious issues that our nation was founded and enriched on stolen land and stolen labor. Do you think it is just or even possible to look to our different ship past and find reconciliation or healing in our same boat moment?

Answer: I think that this present moment in our country is a call and opportunity to go deeper into healing America’s “original sins.” As long as things stay denied, hidden or suppressed, they cannot heal. I think all the ugliness that has been in the warp-and-woof crevices and swept under the rug of this “American experiment” is now out in the open for all to see—so that we can see where the healing is needed. But it’s going to take all of us to do it, and for that, we’ll have to rescue our “better angels” from the auction blocks of the self-serving, greedy and power-mongering legions.

Question: Your book has three sections: “Hurt”; “Hope”; and, “Healing”. Would you say they represent Past, Present, and Future, respectively, or are do you see us as in some sort of a blended state?

Answer: That’s an interesting perspective, and what immediately strikes me is that our past, present and future are all three ongoing in every choice we make to help or harm. The “Hurt” section names and reports our hurts—but the “Hope” section shows the potential those hurts have to be healed, because at the heart of every hurt is the hope for healing—whether it is realized and acted upon, or not. Sometimes the revelation or awareness does not result in immediate action, but it plants the seeds—and those seeds begin to broadcast a sort of quantum call to all who “have the heart to hear.”

Question: In your Preface you say, “Included in those I most admire are the remarkable young people in my life and the many whose paths cross mine momentarily.” I agree. What do you think are the biggest challenges for young people today in this society, and what are your greatest hopes for them?

Answer: Firstly, I think there is a swell of young people in this country who have a sense of what is true and right, and who value and embrace diversity, fairness and freedom of choice for all. I think their biggest challenge is to take America away from those who are entrenched in a system that values tribal loyalties and self-enrichment, power and the special privileges of money, race, education, religion and so forth. The young people I know have a greater sense of caring and compassion for their fellow beings, they value collaboration and thinking outside the box, and they feel a responsibility to be of service in some way with their many and diverse gifts of talent, skill and intelligence. It was interesting to watch them gather together as a voting bloc when Bernie Sanders was running for president. It didn’t matter that Bernie was an “old guy” from the very generation they may disavow—what mattered to them was his more inclusive and humane platform. My greatest hope for them is that they will be able to take the chaos we leave them and create a truly better world—having learned from us what not to do.

Question: On Page 74 you quote Ralph Waldo Emerson as follows: “One of the illusions of life is that the present hour is not the critical, decisive one.” Yet, it is very difficult for people to live their lives that way; that the here and now is the most important. Would you say that songwriting or poetry are ways to communicate the importance of the moment to others, or for the reader/hearer to be in that moment?

Answer: I think both music and poetry absolutely convey not only “the importance of the moment,” but the moment itself. Music makes us feel something, which brings us immediately into the moment—sometimes a past moment and memory, sometimes a future moment where something we long for is just on the horizon, or a present moment so infused with feeling that we cannot be anywhere else but here. Poetry does the same thing in a different way—especially if the words seek the paradoxical truth of something, and dare to find it. I think for both the writer and the reader, to experience such a moment in which we are willing to find what we seek is, in turn, to be found by that which we are seeking.

Question: On Page 88, after the song “A Truer Truth”, you have a discussion about absolute, relative, whole, and truer truths. I took this statement as an argument in favor of subjective truth: “the truer nature of truth is to be fluid, ever-evolving as we get new information and knowledge, and as we ourselves evolve.” If that is so (and it very well may be), how does a society get to healing if it is operating with different truths?

Answer: I think we could begin to truly heal if we could come to the understanding that our different truths are parts of a greater truth that cannot be a whole truth unless all our different truths are included. I suspect that there is a deep, almost primordial, fear in humanity that wants to cling to, evangelize and advocate for an “only” and absolute truth that everyone should live by—a fear that is driven by the human need to feel safety and belonging. As to how we “get to healing” with all our different truths, we must come to realize that truth won’t save us. Only what is in our hearts can do that. Because that’s where our sameness lies. We all want to love and be loved, we all want to make something more of ourselves and give something worthwhile to the world from the love and truth of who we are and what more we might become. If we would dare to meet each other at the heart, and value that more than needing to align only with those who agree with us, or malign those who don’t—then we might see that we could truly make “a world of difference with our differences.”

Question: You quote Bill Moyers on Page 125 that we can heal even if a “cure” is not possible. Many people use “heal” and “cure” interchangeably. Would you explain how you see them as not necessarily interchangeable and what they individually mean to you?

Answer: I ran across this quote in a Bill Moyers documentary that was produced and directed by Pam Wagner, who is a friend of mine. The film is about a group of people with terminal cancer who had come together to heal the other things in their lives that needed to be healed. I was so struck by this because it’s as if they were not regarding the cancer as their totality. There was a recognition of other things within them that needing healing, and that healing them was possible, even if a cure for their cancer was not. Before watching this film I had not thought about a distinction between “healing” and “curing.” But in thinking about it now, what comes to me is that it applies universally—in that none of us will be cured of the inevitability of death, but until that moment, we can work and play to heal the things inside us, and between us, that are hurting so that we might be more available for living while we are still here.

Question: “Standing Your Ground” on Page 139 really spoke to me. Humans are a species that operates in collectives, and departing from one’s tribe—even as a necessity—is usually painful or even dangerous. Not everyone can do that. Following the song you write about the potential positives that can come from standing your ground and walking away. But not everyone receives a “walking-out-the-door prize.” What do you say to them?

Answer: What I would say to them is what I have said to myself in these times. We cannot look to the world to recognize or appreciate us. It’s natural to want that, but first we must be willing to stand up for our own truths, what we care about and matters most to us, and let that be enough to go out on that limb, take a stand, walk in a different direction from the crowd, stand our ground when needed, and so on. We don’t do that to make a point, or to be admired or appreciated. We do it because we cannot do
otherwise. And so what the world thinks about us is secondary—even if it causes us some pain. When one is self-sovereign, taking “the road less traveled” is sometimes a matter of conscience, and sometimes one of calling. It is true that “not everyone can do that,” but I suspect it is everyone’s responsibility—and privilege—to discover what they can do—and do that. That’s the beauty of diversity: because of our differences, we can each bring something to the collective that is unique. Like Van Jones said after watching his friend Prince in concert:

I believe everybody has a note inside that they can strike…They may do it through community service. They may do it through their profession. They may do it through parenting. But everyone has that something, that spark, and we have a responsibility to offer it to the world.

Final thoughts or ideas you would like to convey?

The writers, speakers, musical artists and everyday people who have most inspired me are those that draw from the deeper resources of their hearts to offer us not just knowledge or experience, but wisdom and the ability to see the “more than meets the eye” in people and circumstances. We are living in very challenging times, and it’s easier to get discouraged, harder to be hopeful. But we must strive to see that for every seemingly “bad” thing out there, there is a good to counter it. As stated by Parker J. Palmer, author of Healing the Heart of Democracy, etc. and founder of The Center for Courage and Renewal, “While the forces of exhaustion, loneliness, violence, and injustice are real and undeniable, so are the powers of human authenticity, generosity, courage, and community that rise up to meet them.” We enlarge what we put our focus on, or as in the Native American story of the two wolves fighting, the one we feed will be the one that wins. My personal philosophy—which I have to renew in practice every day—is that it’s “better to grow the light than fight the dark.”