So it was I
This text is set in a landscape of conflict and beauty. Where the conflict lies – within the narrator’s being or as part of a landscape scarred by an actual current war, is left ambiguous, for, as Thomas Merton understood, all wars have their origin in individual human hearts. However, another keynote of this text is tenderness, towards the beauty of the damaged landscape, but also towards human lives damaged by our conflicts. The narrator meets a wounded young soldier, becoming his reluctant healer, welcoming him as a stranger, just as we pilgrims are on a journey to bring ourselves back from exile into a home in our own selves.
I’m Not Lost
Native American women are more likely to be abducted, assaulted, and murdered than any other population group, and the perpetrators are rarely charged or convicted. Through the MMIWG (Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women and Girls) movement, a light has been cast upon this form of genocide. “I’m Not Lost” includes Native words and phrases from across North America: Abenaki, Odawa/Ojibwe, Lakota, and Navajo/Diné. Each verse cries out for missing mothers, daughters, sisters, and Two Spirit (transgender) loved ones. The performance of “I’m Not Lost” is more than the singing of a song; it is an expression of longing and grief for those whose voices have been silenced.
The World, This Wall, and Me
This song begins in a transgender woman's dream. The post-transition female is sitting with friends with her back to the dreamer, who is still presenting as male in the dream. The female turns to the young woman and smiles at her. In this moment, the young woman understands that, no matter the struggle she faces, everything will be okay. Musically, the song moves along with a sense of urgency after an introduction featuring the tenors. Arriving at the middle, the choir sings "I will not let fear become my beacon!" And finally, the young woman is able to come out, and the choir sings "Now I can see you in all your wondrous colors." Also about how we use walls when we need to, this is a fitting reminder that it is okay to take the time we need to heal.
My Name is Lamiya: Don't Call Me "Refugee"
This composition was written to bring attention to one of the most significant and challenging issues in our world today, the global refugee crisis. Nine-year-old Lamiya Safarova lost her home and her village, and she began writing poems to express her feelings. The stirring text and repeated rhythmic elements persist throughout this work, along with body percussion that represents the journey of the refugee, forced away from their home, most often by foot.