Sonic Memorials: The Role of Songs in Civic Storytelling

Artistic Leadership founder and chief artist Tiffany Thompson recently published an article in Comment Commons about the power of songwriting to carry the civic stories of a city. Imagine bringing this type of expansive experience into your community initiatives!

Originally published online in Common Commons.

As I sang my opening song, the room settled in. This wasn’t your dime-a-dozen barstool gig, casual music for a fleeting listener. It was a public engagement with an agenda: to change the way people experience homelessness. From my perch, I could feel the audience catch a ride on my phasing, riffs, and words, like a weathervane pirouetting in the wind of the song.

This moment wasn’t a chance encounter. It was the offspring of dedicated minds, midwifed through struggle by people with communing hearts who believe that art isn’t extra; it’s essential. For creators and community leaders of all types, I hope the following story encourages you to become a great collaborator for the flourishing of your city, and the world.

Authoring Action at The Dwelling

Located at the bustling crossroads of downtown and West End, The Dwelling is an ecumenical church dedicated to serving people experiencing homelessness in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Sweeping steps provide a historic entrance to their building’s sanctuary, where a blazingly diverse congregation gathers for Lutheran liturgies and movie nights that feel more like a family reunion than church. The property provides shower trailers, phones, a mailroom, and greenspace with picnic tables, cornhole, and a garden.

Emily Norris, the founding pastor, has crystal blue eyes and flower tattoos. She tells congregants to come as they are and reminds them that trauma doesn’t equal shame. On Sundays, no offering plate is passed. Instead, people grab a plate and enjoy a catered lunch together.

In 2023, The Dwelling teamed up with Authoring Action, a non-profit organization dedicated to empowering individuals with the skills necessary to express their voices and perspectives through creative writing, visual arts, music, and filmmaking. Authoring Action is led by Nathan Ross Freeman, the creative director and playwright, and Lynn Rhoades, the executive director and congregational minister. Together, they have been conducting workshops and summer intensives for over two decades, working with more than eight hundred middle schoolers and teenagers. Each of their projects unlocks personal agency and fosters voice articulation. “We don’t host performances,” says Freeman. “We produce public engagements to educate the audience, not the authors.”

Pastor Emily, Nathan, and Lynn, funded by the 2021 American Rescue Plan Act, came together to produce a year of workshops and public engagements featuring the voices of people in The Dwelling congregation. Nathan emphasized, “We aren’t here to entertain. We are here to move people toward action and effect policy in Winston-Salem around homelessness.”

A community often unseen and driven-by was about to take centre stage.

Learning to Dwell

The Authoring Action creative process guides participants through a series of writing prompts and exercises that lead to the creation of original monologues. Lynn then combines those pieces into a cohesive whole, and Nathan begins directing, teaching authors on how to present, communicate, and lead the audience. Songwriting enters the process about halfway through, once the script is written, but before the structure of the engagement is set. That’s when I arrived.

Six big circle tables were squeezed into a cafeteria-like multi-purpose room with a whiteboard on wheels proclaiming: THE DWELLERS. Nathan explained that “DWELLERS” were people who inhabited the place where they were. They were people who didn’t just exist; they took up space and settled in. They were people with as much value as “OWNERS” but usually less respect.

Nathan introduced me as a “collaborating artist,” a songwriter brought in to reveal songs in the monologues. My work was to listen to the script, get to know the participants, uncover the secret singers in the group, and then write songs from their pieces.

For six weeks, I got to know the participants and collaborate with two in particular: Gary and Booker. Booker T. James had a sophisticated sense about him and lived in a tent under some trees over on 4th Street. He drank soda instead of water, sketched portraits, and is reportedly the best pool player in town. Gary’s twinkling eyes and welcoming smile reminded me more of a six-year-old kid than a weathered veteran. He managed The Dwelling’s shower trailer and carried a chorus of keys with him, a noisy rosary of responsibility.

Both men said they could sing. So, I carefully studied their writings, asked them about their favourite songs, and listened to the tone and texture of their voices. As I explored their words, I was struck by the non-zero-sum game in their stories. Joyful hope danced with earth shattering traumas. Triumph walked beside heart-wrenching loss. My own housing insecurities began to surface, and I could sense I was no longer writing for them, but with them.

With Booker, I tapped into his prophetic, sage words to create a mournful, yet confident ballad. Though I was nervous to write for a voice so different from my own, Booker loved the song sketch I shared with him and slowly sang it to life in his own, authentic way.

To Whom It May Concern

Written by Booker and Tiffany

City of Winston-Salem
You say you need some signs
We stand here before you
Trying to open up your mind
Let’s focus on this disease
Not put it in some line
Don’t sweep it under the rug
To erase it from your mind
Who am I?
I’m nobody
Yet everyone
Homelessness affects us all
In one way or another
It might be your state of mind
Or state of lacking shelter
Who am I?
I’m nobody
Yet everyone
The only cure for this disease
Courageous love from everyone

For Gary, I wanted his song to forge a connection between his huggable essence and hard-hitting, heart-broken texts. He had written starkly about overdoses, breakups, depression, and rejection, but wanted his song to sound like a pop-country hit. Ultimately, we created the engagement’s closing anthem and The Dwelling’s theme song.

Generous Love

By Gary and Tiffany

We’re one day away
From losing it all
No permanent place
Outside your heart’s wall
In my opinion
Everyone in this town
Is a little homeless
Someway, somehow
You could be rich,
And your house burns down,
Lose your job with no family around
Be an addict and never pay rent
Being homeless
Only stops when you’re dead
But in a city like this
At a time like this
We don’t need a handout
We don’t need a handout
All we need is love, love, love
Generous Love
We need a place
Where we can get clean
A spot on earth
Where we can sleep
In my opinion
Jesus was clear
Where the homeless are
He’s always near
We don’t need a handout
We don’t need a handout
All we need is love, love, love
Generous Love

The Possibilities for Sonic Memorials

Reading or listening to Booker and Gary’s songs is akin to strolling past a memorial. Despite your recent arrival, this place has stood the test of time. It signifies something of great importance; hence, people have crafted something to draw your attention to it. By recognizing it, you find yourself contemplating memories beyond your own, realizing your connection to this place and its narrative. I like to refer to such songs as “sonic memorials.”

Collaborating with Gary and Booker on these songs was, in essence, the creation of a commissioned memorial for the city. Although I wasn’t a part of the historic events, I immersed myself in the intricacies of the people and places involved, grew to appreciate them, and crafted something to pay homage to them. This is always the goal, and challenge, of commissioned works.

“To Whom It May Concern” and “Generous Love” are also examples of oral history. The lyrics tell us about particular people in particular places and teach us about the community’s needs and concerns. The songs serve as riverbanks for young minds, guiding awareness toward a complex issue, and as signposts for old souls, urging them to persist in their pursuit of justice through love.

Some might say these are just songs and question calling them “sonic memorials.” However, as an artist, I believe that framing is crucial to shaping people’s perception. Framing helps to direct focus and offers contextual cues. It connects the dots and broadens horizons. By categorizing the songs from The Dwelling and Authoring Action collaboration as sonic memorials, my aim is to provide them with the framework of oral history and public service.

Across the globe and throughout history, music and narrative have often been used to steward the stories of oral cultures. In Africa, the singing historians known as Griots are community leaders. In Europe, troubadours and bards spread news and educated royal courts. In Latin America, Corridoes and protest music make history mainstream. And in North America, from Alen Lennox to Leadbelly to Dylan and Tupac, music transmits culture and has the power to focus our attention.

I hope my presenting the concept of sonic memorials ignites curiosity about which stories, issues, and individuals should be commemorated in this manner. Imagine if cities commissioned songs in the same way they commission plaques. What if people could listen to these memorials while observing them? Picture a scenario where, as you entered the MLK Memorial in DC, a QR code would pull up a playlist of songs inspired by the profound sacrifices of this great man.

Consider the possibility that, as you walked by The Dwelling, you could sit down and listen to “Generous Love” on your phone. Like traditional memorials, it would serve as a reminder that your current location holds significance, inspiring you to become a more generous citizen who supports policies that exemplify love—generous love.