Cultural Diversity

Author Voice: Why AI Can’t Replace It

June 26, 2026 By LDSPMA Leave a Comment

Let’s talk about artificial intelligence (AI) and writing. It seems like every other day, there’s a new tool that promises to make writing faster, easier, and maybe even . . . automatic? It’s easy to see how many writers are pulled toward AI. Some people may even ask writers: Why spend days or months putting blood, sweat, and tears into something that AI can do in seconds?

Here’s the thing: No matter how impressive AI gets, it will never compare to the unique voice, experience, and, well, humanity that each writer brings to their work.

It’s true that AI can assist writers in getting through tricky passages and overcoming writer’s block. In later tips in this series about AI, we will discuss the benefits of using AI in your writing in greater detail. But in this article, we’ll focus on what AI can’t replace—your voice!

Voice vs. Style

Writing voice and style are two concepts that are often confused or conflated. There is a difference between the concepts, so let’s break them down:

Voice: The writer’s innate opinions, attitudes, and experiences.

Style: The writer’s word choices, sentence structures, and mechanical—or grammatical—patterns.

Tiffany Yates Martin, an established editor with over twenty years of professional experience, has a beautiful description of voice on her website Fox Print Editorial:

“Author voice, though, comes from the truest, most authentic heart of you. Your voice began to be formed even before you were born, and it has been shaped increment by increment by every single circumstance and element of your life since: where you were raised, by whom, how, in what circumstances; your socioeconomic level, your education, your frames of reference and your experiences; your personality, sensibilities, values, and passions.

“It can be affected by age and perspective, state of mind and mood. It encompasses your vocabulary, your phrasing and rhythm, your diction and word choice, your verbal tics and habits. It’s reflected in the speed at which you communicate, the way in which you find and express your thoughts, whether you are direct or circuitous, literal or figurative, humorous or serious, and every permutation of all the above.”

(Yates Martin, Tiffany. “What Is Author Voice and How Do You Find Yours,” Fox Print Editorial, October 8, 2024, https://foxprinteditorial.com/2023/08/10/what-is-author-voice-and-how-do-you-find-yours.)

Yates’s beautiful description of voice shows just how personal and unique it is. Voice reflects the soul of a writer—their innate perspective and personality—while style is the way ideas are expressed on the page with words.

Some writers have a writing style that is elaborate and embellished—meaning they love crafting long sentences full of imagery and metaphor. Other writers write short, punchy sentences. Some writers enjoy breaking conventional grammar rules, such as sentence fragments, run-on sentences, or omitting punctuation, and others write in sarcastic or mocking styles.

A writer’s style may adapt to suit different genres, tones, or audiences, but their voice remains a consistent reflection of their unique personality and perspective. And while AI can mimic certain writing styles by replicating patterns and techniques, it lacks its own innate personality, or voice.

Voice Is Personal

The stories you tell—whether they are fictional or not—are uniquely your own. No AI, no matter how advanced, can replicate the intricacies of your lived experience. Your life, your choices, and your perspective are shaped by countless factors: your upbringing, culture, relationships, failures, and triumphs. These experiences color the way you see the world and inform the stories you tell.

AI may be able to mimic style and structure, but it can’t capture the one thing that makes each writer unique—their individual way of writing stories and depicting complex human feelings. AI, by nature, uses algorithms to predict what should come next based on existing data, so its output often reads as generic.

Because voice is so uniquely human, we are good at picking up its subtle nuances in the things we read without realizing it. Consider the uncanny valley phenomenon, which is when a “computer-generated figure or humanoid robot bearing a near-identical resemblance to a human being arouses a sense of unease or revulsion in the person viewing it.” (“Uncanny Valley,” Oxford English Dictionary, accessed December 2024, https://www.oed.com/dictionary/uncanny-valley_n?tab=meaning_and_use.)

For example, observe AI-generated photos of people that look extremely realistic—until you look closer and see hands with unnatural fingers or mouths with too many teeth. Similarly to this phenomenon, AI tools like ChatGPT can produce material mimicking different writing styles, but they can’t perfectly embody any author’s voice—or cultivate their own.

Below are three comparable passages from stories that each carry themes of nostalgia, permanent loss, and a painful sense of longing:

1. “Nick looked down into the pool from the bridge. It was a hot day. A kingfisher flew up the stream. It was a long time since Nick had looked into a stream and seen trout. They were very satisfactory. As the shadow of the kingfisher moved up the stream, a big trout shot upstream in a long angle, only his shadow marking the angle, then lost his shadow as he came through the surface of the water, caught the sun, and then, as he went back into the stream under the surface, his shadow seemed to float down the stream with the current, unresisting, to his post under the bridge where he tightened facing up into the current.

“Nick’s heart tightened as the trout moved. He felt all the old feeling.”

(Hemingway, Ernest. Big Two-Hearted River. Scribner, 1925.)

2. “Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”

(Cormac McCarthy, The Road. Alfred A. Knopf, 2006.)

3. “The trout dart through the clear, cold stream, their silver bodies flickering like fleeting memories beneath the surface. Time here seems to slow, as though the current itself carries echoes of a forgotten summer. Now, the current feels quieter, the air heavier with the weight of things that are no longer. Each ripple in the water seems to stir an old ache, a quiet sorrow that lingers in the spaces between the rocks, where the trout swim without ever looking back. The stream, once so full of life and laughter, now whispers only of what’s been lost.”

(ChatGPT. Prompt: “Write a paragraph about trout in a stream with these feelings: nostalgia, loss, and longing.”)

The differences between these three passages highlight the profound gap between human writing and AI-generated text, particularly when it comes to voice, authenticity, and emotional resonance.

Ernest Hemingway’s Big Two-Hearted River is marked by his distinctive, restrained style and voice that speaks volumes in what it leaves unsaid. The description of the trout’s shadow—rising, catching the sun, and then floating back into the current—reflects not just the fish’s physical movement but also Nick’s transient grasp of peace and the inescapable pull of memory. When Nick’s heart tightens, the reader feels the weight of his unspoken longing.

In contrast, Cormac McCarthy’s voice in The Road is lush and poetic, and he evokes awe and reverence for the natural world. His description of the trout doesn’t just show us fish in a stream—it turns them into symbols of something much bigger, something lost that can never be recovered. With lines like “vermiculate patterns . . . maps of the world in its becoming,” McCarthy transforms the details of the trout into a meditation on time and the fragility of existence—a product of a philosophical mind engaging with the world.

The AI-generated passage, while technically fine and polished, lacks the depth and authenticity of the human-authored examples. Descriptions like “their silver bodies flickering like fleeting memories” and “the air heavier with the weight of things that are no longer” attempt to evoke emotion but instead come across as formulaic and generic as if the AI is trying to fit some template of sentimentality. The passage feels like a compilation of poetic tropes, strung together without the lived experience or unique worldview that imbues an author’s voice with sincerity. As a result, the passage reads as imitative and hollow.

Voice Is Experiential

Writers draw from their personal histories—moments of joy, loss, struggle, and triumph—which shape how they perceive the world and how they choose to express it. Each character, scene, and narrative choice is made up of trinkets of the writer’s own life journey.

AI, while impressive in its ability to mimic writing styles, lacks this experiential foundation. It can replicate the mechanics of storytelling, but it cannot draw from a lived history. AI doesn’t know what it feels like to experience love or loss, to face the challenge of a difficult decision, or to observe the world with the nuance of human perception. As a result, AI-generated novels often lack the depth and emotional resonance that comes from the lived experiences of a human writer. It may produce coherent narratives, but without the personal imprint of a real life, the voice it generates remains hollow and detached.

Compare the following excerpts:

1. “Soldiers carry the weight of their weapons, tools of survival and destruction, each one a constant reminder of their purpose and the danger that lurks. Their packs are heavy with rations, medical supplies, and gear—necessary burdens that ground them in the brutal present, yet leave little room for escape. Tucked deep within, they carry the ghosts of past battles, the memories of comrades lost, and the quiet longing for home, all bound in the recesses of their minds. The weight of duty is palpable in every step, as they march forward, burdened by both the physical and emotional tolls of war.”

(ChatGPT. Prompt: “Write a paragraph about what soldiers carry in war.”)

“They took up what others could no longer bear. Often, they carried each other, the wounded or weak. They carried infections. They carried chess sets, basketballs, Vietnamese-English dictionaries, insignia of rank, Bronze Stars and Purple Hearts, plastic cards imprinted with the Code of Conduct. They carried diseases, among them malaria and dysentery. They carried lice and ringworm and leeches and paddy algae and various rots and molds. They carried the land itself—Vietnam, the place, the soil—a powdery orange-red dust that covered their boots and fatigues and faces. They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity.”

(O’Brien, Tim. The Things They Carried. Broadway, 1998.)

Severe trauma and war are examples of things that AI has never experienced and will never experience. For all of ChatGPT’s flowery language, its paragraph above rings incredibly hollow when compared to O’Brien’s excerpt, which draws from his lived experience of serving in the Vietnam war. O’Brien is not using generalizations to speak for every soldier who fought in Vietnam, and he is not even trying to recount every factual detail of his experience. Instead, he speaks about his personal perceptions and feelings developed through his experiences.

There are a huge number of life experiences—emotions felt, moments lived, and connections formed—that are uniquely human. Drawing from these experiences when writing connects writers with readers, even if they haven’t been through the same things, because they reflect the emotions and connections we all share. This connection is something AI may attempt but will likely never replicate.

Voice Is Cultural

Writers also draw from cultural and social dynamics—the gestures, tone, slang, vernacular, and unsaid meanings that make up human interaction. These nuances, shaped by culture, society, and history, enrich a writer’s voice, allowing it to capture the complexities of emotion and experience in ways that resonate with readers.

AI, though skilled at mimicking writing styles, lacks the ability to truly understand or engage with the social intricacies that define human communication. While it can replicate language patterns or historical references, it cannot grasp the deeper layers of meaning embedded in these elements.

In our interconnected and plugged-in modern culture, communication is becoming increasingly fluid. Slang, internet culture, and memes are playful, ever-evolving forms of communication that reflect shared humor, generational trends, and cultural moments. These quirks of language serve as social identity markers—the traits, symbols, and language that help people express who they are and where they come from.

Writers understand how these identity markers operate within communities and use them in novels to create authentic dialogue, relatable characters, and vivid settings. Identity markers in writing can be incredibly subtle. A character’s hesitation before choosing a word might reveal their insecurity or the unspoken weight of their relationship with the person they’re speaking to. The use of the word “demure” might suggest not just modesty but “mindfulness,” “very respectful,” and “not doing too much” to Gen Z readers. A passing mention of the smell of rented bowling shoes could evoke an entire childhood for a reader without being explicitly tied to any narrative arc. These subtleties—rooted in how humans assign meaning to the smallest interactions and details—give writing a depth and resonance that AI may struggle to replicate.

Voice is Irreplaceable

AI can copy certain styles, but it can’t capture you. Your unique way of putting things and the little surprises that come with it? That’s your voice, and that’s something only a real, live person can bring.

So, if you ever feel discouraged by the speed or apparent efficiency of AI, remember this: Your voice matters more than anything a machine could ever produce. Your stories, your emotions, your creativity—they are irreplaceable. Lean into your humanity, trust your unique perspective, and remember that the world is waiting for what only you can write. In the end, no machine can tell your story like you can.

This article was written by Amy Guan and was republished with permission from Ever Editing.

Amy Guan

Co-Owner and Managing Partner, Ever Editing

I edit because I love it. I love plotting outlines, treading through unfamiliar topics, and discovering misplaced modifiers. Editing is an adventure, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. I love playing video games (open world only), eating whatever my husband grabs from the clearance section at Asian Mart, and being taken on walks by my two big dogs. I have a BA in English and a minor in editing.

Margaret Blair Young and the Power of Stories that Matter

March 31, 2026 By LDSPMA Leave a Comment

In a small town in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, a man stares at a hand-bound book in disbelief. Inside are the pages of his own story.

“I’ve been poor my whole life,” he says. “I’ve been cheated out of a lot of things. But look, there’s a book about me.”

For filmmaker and former Brigham Young University creative writing professor Margaret Blair Young, moments like this emphasize the power of storytelling. Throughout her career, Young has used stories to restore voices that history has overlooked—stories that heal, foster understanding, and illuminate faith.

Young’s work documenting the history of Black members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints began in 1998. “I had written quite a few books,” she recalls, “but I wanted to do something that really mattered.”

After praying for guidance and receiving a blessing from her husband that confirmed her spiritual promptings, she latched onto this idea: “Why don’t I write stories of Black Mormon pioneers?”

Soon afterward, she met Darius Gray under what she calls “pretty miraculous circumstances.” Gray is a journalist, businessman, and expert in Black Latter-day Saint history. He’s been actively engaged in human rights and civil rights causes for decades.

“I actually had a cassette tape recording of him in my purse because I had ordered it while doing research,” Young recalls.

When the two connected, Young had already written about one hundred pages. After reading the manuscript, Gray recognized the importance of the work. He looked over it and said, “Let’s do this together.”

Young and Gray delved into history and wrote a trilogy of novels, Standing on the Promises, about the lives of early Black Latter-day Saints. When the pair began, these stories were largely undocumented. Even after publication, they continued to uncover new information that corrected earlier assumptions.

“It’s a history that wasn’t terribly well known,” Young explains, likening the research required to that of three PhD dissertations.

Confronting Racism in Church History

Young’s work led to the documentary Nobody Knows: The Untold Story of Black Mormons, which explores the experiences of Black Church members before and after the 1978 revelation extending priesthood and temple blessings to all worthy male members.

“We could say things that Church leaders couldn’t necessarily say and really hit the complexities and the depths of the issues head on.”

Before the documentary’s release, Young and her collaborators showed it to the Church History Department and several General Authorities. The project was well received.

Young’s determination to address such complexities stems from personal experience. She first confronted racism directly at fourteen when her seminary teacher used a racial slur in class.

“I had a really visceral reaction to it.” She dropped out of seminary because of the incident. “That kind of [intensified] my own realization that we had a problem we needed to deal with.”

Sharing Jane Manning James’s Story

Young turned to creative work to confront the problem. She wrote the play I Am Jane about early pioneer Jane Manning James. When it was performed in Springville, Utah, around 2001, the production sold out and drew audiences from across the state. Many said they’d needed to hear Jane’s story, especially her petitions to President John Taylor asking about temple blessings. Young’s play captures the spirit of Jane’s appeal: If this was truly the “fullness of times,” and the promises to Abraham meant all people could be blessed, where was her blessing?

Jane’s faith and courage invited audiences to open their hearts and recognize Christ in every person they encounter.

In October 2020, President Russell M. Nelson called on members to “lead out in abandoning attitudes and actions of prejudice.” For Young, that work begins with recognizing when conversations are built on racist assumptions or when history is minimized or ignored.

Meaningful change, she believes, begins within individuals. Too often, conversations about racism end quickly, dismissed with a clever comment or meme. Real growth begins with humility and willingness to examine one’s own heart. The point is not condemnation but to allow God to reveal attitudes that might otherwise remain invisible.

“Ask the Lord to help you discern where [racist views] are and how you can clear them out.”

For Young, confronting prejudice is not separate from faith. It’s a central part of it. Latter-day Saints have a unique foundation for combating racism in the Book of Mormon, which repeatedly emphasizes unity and equality.

“There were no ‘ites’ among them. That should be the foundation for everything we do.”

A New Calling In the Congo

Young’s work eventually expanded beyond American history. “Darius was… the one who told me a whole lot about Africa.”

At the time, she and her husband were serving in an MTC branch where missionaries were learning to speak French. Through those missionaries—many of whom were preparing to serve in Africa—she began corresponding with individuals in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

“Cinema had died about forty years ago in the Congo,” she explains. Government corruption and economic collapse left once-beautiful areas abandoned and in ruins. Yet she believes film offers a path toward renewal. “Cinema allows us to present new narratives.”

At first, Young thought they would be “making a movie that happened to be set in the Congo, but was maybe filmed somewhere else.” Instead, they discovered they were meant to support a Congolese team in reviving the country’s cinema industry.

Following the Work

Young realized that individualized storytelling could bring even more meaning to the community. When the team traveled to a remote town, the Congolese film director discovered his great-aunt living there. His mother had lost her own mother in childbirth, and this aunt had cared for her.

His great-aunt wept throughout their meeting. Because they spoke different languages, a translator helped them communicate. The following year, the team returned with his mother so the two could reunite.

Experiences like these confirm the stories of the Congolese people are waiting to be told. Young believes these stories carry a sacred weight, revealing the true character of a nation often portrayed only as a tragedy. She feels called to help share a broader vision of the Congo—one that reveals its beauty and reminds people that its citizens are “our brothers and sisters,” and that “we should strive to have ‘no ‘ites’ among us in our hearts.”

Young’s team collected oral histories from residents eager to share their experiences.

“We would bind the books using whatever materials they could find—cardboard, fabric…” With a generator powering the printer, Young helped students produce books featuring their own photographs.

The long-term vision was to create a library made up entirely of local stories. Many had lived through the devastating war that ended in 2003. “Some of the stories are horrifying, but they matter.”

Finding Her Path

Looking back, Young does not describe her path as carefully planned. She says it unfolded simply by being willing to begin.

“I don’t know that you’d want to follow the way I do things because I’m a little bit crazy,” she laughs. But her approach has always been rooted in openness, paying attention to ideas that feel meaningful, and acting on them before the full path is visible.

“If you’re not moving, not much will happen.” Her advice is to pray about what kind of work might bring good into the world, then begin. “Be open to anything. Trust that when you start doing something that is truly meant to edify and bring greater light into the world, it will be sustained.”

For Young, the work has always been about helping people see one another more clearly and remembering that every life holds a story worth telling.

This article is based on a Called to Create podcast aired season 1, episode 11. To hear the full podcast, click here.

Using Music, Dance, and Drama to Combat Gangs and Criminality

September 19, 2025 By LDSPMA Leave a Comment

In a world that is increasingly filled with chaos, participation in the arts can be a valuable resource to maintain positive relationships, combat mental health issues, and give a sense of belonging. Our friend Rebecca Burnham from Summit Stages shares an interview she conducted with Jerry (J.J.) First Charger Jr. about his work with at-risk youth. We redacted some paragraphs for space, but you can read the full article here.

Jerry (J.J) First Charger Jr. is a Blackfoot man from Kainai who is a hero to many young people, including some of my own children. I first met Jerry when I was helping in a community-building collaboration between Blackfoot and settler high schoolers in our area. Jerry was great with the kids, and enthusiastically helped them develop confidence in themselves and each other. I was also wowed by the breadth of his talents and his willingness to share them with us. He competently taught break-dancing, stage-combat, Indigenous singing, improv, acting and more.

More recently, Jerry’s dance crew, the Westwind Thunders, made Global News (a Canadian network) on a dance tour where they mixed breakdancing and Indigenous styles of dance, (including hoop, fancy, grass, chicken and jingle dress and fancy shawl). I was able to attend one of their performances and was almost brought to tears. I was taken aback by the skill and stamina of the dancers, the joy I saw on the faces of the kids, and the beauty of the dances, especially those performed by Indigenous students in full regalia. My son, who had carried water for the Thunders working as an EA, said it was just as impressive to see how Jerry worked with the kids, that he “leads through pure rapport. The kids would do anything for him, and because of him they know they can do anything.”

I was surprised and moved by the spiritual roots of Jerry’s approach to teaching and the degree to which personal experience has helped him relate and help so many young people and communities who have endured generations of persecution and personal trauma. Here is his story.

Jerry was twenty-two years old when he woke up in a drunk tank in Cardston, Alberta. This was not a first-time experience. He didn’t remember what brought him there–but that wasn’t new either. Only a few months earlier, he’d gotten drunk to the point of black out at a family wedding and wound up severely beating up his little brother, only to wake up the next day with no memory of the conflict. It terrified and deeply shamed him that his brother could have died at his hands. Not knowing how to cope, he’d retreated even further into drugs and alcohol.

Jerry asked the guard what had happened and learned that he’d been at the home of some friends who had wound up calling the police and did not want him coming back. He didn’t know what he’d done, but it was once again threatening his relationships. Why did he keep messing up like this?

He had tried to get help and only gotten more alienated. He felt abandoned and angry at his family, friends and society. All of this had brought him here, sitting on the cold, hard floor of a drunk tank, scared and hopeless. In his distress, he prayed, and he heard an answer, an invitation to change his life. That wasn’t happening. He’d seen friends and family go to treatment, only to relapse as soon as they came out, a month, or even a year later.

He thought about how his life seemed like a waste to this point. He wanted to be remembered as a good person, who helped others out, not as a menace to society, leaving wreckage in his wake. But he knew he couldn’t do it. He was too weak and he would fail.

The Creator said, “You can change. Trust me.”

“But how?” he asked.

Again, he heard, “It can be done. Just trust me.”

He had no arguments left. He agreed he would change, but only if the Creator agreed to never leave him. “Because if you do, I will fail.”

“J.J., I will never leave you. I will always be there for you.”

A few hours later, Jerry walked out of the drunk tank, never to return, “because of the love of the Creator and because I called my spirit back,” he says. He returned to church and the Creator, true to His promise, has been with him ever since.

Seven years of sobriety later, Jerry got a call from a friend who said the Young Offenders Centre in Lethbridge was looking for a youth mentor to run a drumming and dance program for young inmates. He taught the youth inmates to sing, drum and dance. He found this to be a gateway to connection. He noticed that the youth came to trust him first as their music and movement mentor with whom they had fun, and that opened the door to honest discussions about personal responsibility and the power to change. Drumming, he has since learned, is correlated with resilience among war-torn people in Africa. He didn’t know that then, but he started seeing that same burgeoning resilience in the youth with whom he was working.

Music, dance and drama gave him a natural way to teach the inmates that making mistakes is not a good reason to be beaten down. “Everybody makes mistakes. That’s how you learn and grow.” This allowed him to teach about choice and consequence as a learning rather than a punitive experience. Instead of using language like “good and evil” that tended to activate inmates’ shame and their fear of rejection, he taught about choosing between positive energy and negative energy. Jerry told the inmates that, “before you can help your children, you better fix yourself, take on some personal responsibility for your actions, be mindful and accountable.”

Inmates loved it. They told him that his program was a sharp contrast to the rest of their prison experience. Among the things they said were, “We love coming to your programs because you make us think,” “You made me feel like I was not in jail. You took the walls away from me,” and “You helped me enjoy myself and learn that life can be fun again.” It was a novel approach to correction, but Jerry believed the system should be focused on rehabilitation, not punitive measures.

Jerry began to work with kids who were struggling to cope with chaotic home lives, and with parents who feared having their battles with addiction, anger, and so forth revealed to a counselor in a system that they didn’t trust. Once again, music and dance were the gateway he needed to get into a position of trust from which he could help.

One of the key tools he uses now is BBoying and BGirling (breakdancing). He has learned that it helps kids self-regulate. Breakdancing and hip hop were popularized as an antidote to violence in the Bronx, New York, when gang violence was so pervasive that you could get killed for crossing the street wearing the wrong colors. Former gang leader African Bambaataa persuaded other leaders to embrace the creative expression offered by hip hop as a way of pulling back from the brink of annihilation. Gang members started settling turf wars with dance battles instead of weapons. It allowed them to flex their muscles and show off how tough they were, but in a way that left them alive to better themselves and compete again another day. “The old school BBoys said that they were [so] busy practicing for the next battle that they did not have time to do criminal activities.”

He speaks about one struggling student whose family would not let their boy anywhere near counseling. But they were happy to let Jerry teach him breakdancing and that helped the boy develop the supports he needed and the self-regulation skills to cope better at school.

Jerry cites new understanding of the therapeutic power of play. “The experts in the field of therapy are pointing out that dance, art and play are effective tools for dealing with trauma. That is where the healing happens.”

Sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ Through Music

July 30, 2022 By Kami Pehrson 3 Comments

As part of a global church, LDS musicians worldwide can use their talents to create musical compositions which share the pure doctrine of Jesus Christ in powerful and inspiring ways. In his conference address “Pure Truth, Pure Doctrine, and Pure Revelation,” President Russell M. Nelson said, “There has never been a time in the history of the world when knowledge of our Savior is more personally vital and relevant to every human soul.” Music is a beautiful way to bring souls closer to the Savior.

The Power of Lyrics

Lyrics can speak truth to our hearts and help strengthen our testimony of gospel principles. In response to song lyrics, faith in a particular message can be strengthened through the Spirit. DeNae Handy, a Latter-day Saint musician, speaker, and writer, asserts that, “Music forms belief.” Accordingly, as lyricists consider how to convey doctrine and principles in their work, Handy admonishes writers to “know if what they’re writing about really is doctrine, or if it’s belief, practice, or policy.” She also reminds us to be thoughtful and attentive when writing to be aware of attendant biases.

“The other way music informs belief,” according to Handy, “has to do with the music itself.” Musicians should consider how tempo and melody evoke emotions as they write songs that reinforce belief and strengthen faith. For example, the hymn “Praise to the Man” was initially set to the solemn, lamenting tune, “Star in the East.” This tune conveyed the Saints’ grief following the prophet Joseph Smith’s death. In contrast, when the words were later set to the tune, “Scotland the Brave,” singers experienced a feeling of “celebration,” according to Handy.

Singers and listeners alike desire to hear themselves and their culture expressed in lyrics and music.

Music Can Foster Inclusivity

Music can help us learn and understand scripture stories, prophetic teachings, and even the nature of God. Doctrine and Covenants 88:118 admonishes to “teach one another words of wisdom.” We love songs with simple lyrics and fun rhymes, but Handy says these songs sometimes lack “nutrition”—she compares them to a type of “comfort food.” Musicians need not be afraid of challenging their audiences, whether young or old. Music can serve as an essential teaching tool. As President Nelson reminded us, “The Lord loves effort.” Effort fosters learning. We can promote faith through music by inspiring listeners to “seek diligently” and “seek learning, even by study and also by faith.”

The first great commandment declares that we should love God and our neighbors. We can demonstrate this love by considering the diversity of individuals from across many cultures and backgrounds. Singers and listeners alike desire to hear themselves and their culture expressed in lyrics and music.

Karli Piennette was raised in Magna, Utah, a city she describes as “rooted in the songs and history of the Mormon pioneers.” Later, Piennette sang professionally with her older sisters in the country music group SHeDAISY; but at age 17, she started her musical education at Lipscomb University, a private Christian university in Nashville, Tennessee. She took six credit hours of religious courses each semester where she grew to love a cappella gospel songs.

Piennette says she has “come to realize that [inclusivity and diversity] is an area in our church where we can grow and develop to connect more with our other brothers and sisters in Christ.” For example, when she began her musical education at Lipscomb, she recalls that the only hymn she recognized was “How Great Thou Art.” She points out that recognizable songs similar to those in mainstream Christianity “can help investigators have some familiarity and make them feel at home—like how I felt when I sang ‘How Great Thou Art’ in my university chapel.” When Piennette was later put in charge of her Young Women’s camp, she felt it was her mission to expose more members to the powerful message of love through Christian gospel songs. She visited all the wards in her Nashville stake to teach the youth different parts in the a cappella round, “The Greatest Commands.” The result, she recalls, “was beautiful!”

Celebrate Culture through Music

Jami Orlando, who also studied music at Lipscomb University, is a convert from the Baptist faith where she served as a worship music leader. Orlando expressed the sentiment that, “Music is the language of Heaven.” She goes on to say, “Our culture is so much a part of our social and emotional DNA, [that] if people really want to worship God in a way that is theirs and really have a personal relationship [with Him], we can’t ask them to take their culture out of it. Music is a language in and of itself. It’s not just notes on a page or sounds we hear.”

Just as the Spirit speaks to church members in different ways, so, too, can the Spirit speak to us through various types of music. “Music’s purpose is to communicate to our souls,” Orlando says. Latter-day Saint hymns were originally broken down in chorally-oriented ways, Jami explains; whereas African-American gospel music enjoys a heavier beat, because traditional African music uses drums instead of stringed instruments—“their African ancestors literally marched to the beat of a different drum.”

We must educate ourselves in and experience the cultures we wish to celebrate.

Respect Diverse Musical Traditions

How can Latter-day Saint creators thoughtfully incorporate diverse cultures and backgrounds in their compositions? First, we must show consideration and appreciation for the contributions of all types of music without misappropriating a culture’s social and historical background. Thoughtless application of cultural elements hurts those whose cultures are inaccurately portrayed in compositions and lyrics. To avoid causing hurt to our brothers and sisters in the church, we must educate ourselves in and experience the cultures we wish to celebrate.

We can pray for inspiration and understanding as we strive to build God’s kingdom through song. Jami Orlando implores, “Let’s research, let’s find out, let’s explore and taste other types of music.”

Lastly, we must encourage creators worldwide to contribute their musical talents to write and compose songs that represent their native cultures.

Music is a powerful way to share the gospel of Jesus Christ through articulating belief and inspiring learning and faith. Moreover, music allows Church members to worship in a manner that is customized to every individual. In writing and composing gospel music, let’s thoughtfully consider the needs of all God’s children. What better way to welcome brothers and sisters into our church than by acknowledging and celebrating them? We can invite musicians from diverse faiths and cultures to bring goodness and unite them with what we have to offer.

Minority Voices & the Power of Podcasting

July 29, 2021 By Tyler Nelson 1 Comment

By Tyler B. Nelson

Every Thursday morning, I go for a walk. I put on my shoes and pop in my headphones and take a couple of laps around the neighborhood. On Thursday mornings my favorite podcast, Revisionist History, airs new episodes. The host, Malcolm Gladwell, digs into overlooked and misunderstood bits of history. I learn and I get some exercise at the same time!

Revisionist History is but one podcast in the vast multitude of podcasts available today. Statistics from Apple, Spotify, and other streaming services that produce podcasts suggest that there are around two million podcasts active today.¹ There are hundreds of topics for podcasts. Food, sports, behind the scenes, DIY—you name it. As I mentioned before, podcasts are versatile. You can listen to them on walks, while you commute, or even while you garden. Doing dishes? How about a side of True Crime? My wife and I even use a podcast for our weekly family study.

Podcasting is dynamic. It is powerful. And podcasting is part of a growing force of rising voices all around the world.

The History of Podcasts

Other forms of media spurred the growth of podcasting. Social media rapidly expanded through the 2000s. First Facebook appeared. Then Twitter, Pinterest, and Instagram.² Facebook recruited its billionth user in 2012.³ As these platforms grew, people had more and more to say. But only so much can be reasonably put into a social media post. Podcasting’s ability to cover a wide range of subjects while simultaneously going in depth about those subjects was appealing.

Apple introduced podcasts to Itunes in 2006. At the time, tech savants and a few forward-thinking comedians were the only ones using podcasts. But podcasting’s popularity rapidly expanded. Politicians, sports teams, and history buffs soon got into the game. The famous/infamous Joe Rogan started a podcast. George Bush gave weekly updates from the White House via podcast.⁴ Even Buckingham Palace got in on the action, releasing a Christmas speech from Queen Elizabeth as a podcast.⁵

The power of the spoken word spread in popularity until reaching today’s levels of an estimated two million podcasts filling people’s ears. Fun and games and entertainment aside, podcasts quickly became the medium for tackling serious issues. One of the most amazing things that podcasting has done is give a voice to those who haven’t always had one. In recent years, the number of minority groups and people podcasting has surged. With the platform provided and important issues on the table, these groups have stepped up. They have raised their voices.

Minority Voices in Podcasting

If you spend some time looking around on streaming services, you will start to see podcasts with titles like Pod Save The People or Code Switch. These are podcasts that are run by Black creators. They discuss the role that race plays in Black American’s lives, Black heritage, and how to unpack the uneasiness that we often feel when it comes to discussing race. Whether or not you agree with what is being said, these podcasts utilize the medium to start conversations that otherwise would not be had. They allow racial, political, and geographical lines to be bridged as easily as putting in headphones. These podcasts reach millions of listeners across races, ethnic, and even political lines.

The Black communities are not alone in raising their voices through podcasts. La Brega, a Spanish word that means “struggle,” is a podcast published in both Spanish and English that details the Puerto Rican people’s experience both in and out of the United States. Judaism Unbound’s hosts interview everyday Jews and examine the current issues for American Jews. And #Good Muslim Bad Muslim takes time to discuss the everyday ups and downs for Muslim Women in the US.

As these podcasts continue to grow, their influence reaches further and further. No longer does an individual have to go to a different neighborhood, or another country, or even a mosque or synagogue to hear and learn from the words of other cultures and religions. The gift of technology blesses millions of lives around the world, and even within our church. Podcasting is being used in wards, for missionary work, convert retention, and connecting members across the world.

An Interview with Eriene Oh

I run a Podcast called Mission Report where I interview missionaries about their experience serving for the Church of Jesus Christ. A few weeks ago, Eriene Oh reached out to me on LinkedIn to ask a few questions about starting a podcast. She wants to interview Chinese converts about their experience joining and staying in the Church. I found the idea fascinating and asked Eriene if we could talk more about it. Eriene graduated from BYU in the spring and now lives in Seattle, so we were able to sit down together over Zoom and I got to ask her a few more questions.

Can you tell me a little more about yourself?

I am originally from Malaysia. I was born and grew up there. I grew up in the Church, which is kind of rare, since I am from Malaysia. My parents are converts. I moved to the States when I was fifteen. I did high school here, went to BYU, and then served a mission (California, Arcadia), came back to BYU, and now I am graduated and here in Seattle.

So your parents are converts; what is their story?

It’s actually pretty cool, because it shows the power of member-missionary work. My dad actually grew up Christian. His family was Protestant. My mom grew up Buddhist. But my mom growing up went to a Catholic school, and she wanted to become a Catholic. Her mom was really against it. She gave my mom one condition: she had to marry a Christian boy, or she could not convert. If my mom had a list for marriage, that was her one thing.
When my mom met my dad, he was investigating a lot of churches, including the Catholic church. My mom thought that was great. She could marry him and convert! Then one day, my dad was at work and he saw a coworker (who was a member) reading a Teachings of The Prophets book. My dad was kind of curious and asked what she was reading. She said “This book is from my Church—would you like to know more?” And my dad began to meet with the missionaries. Every time he came back from meeting with the missionaries my mom would ask him questions. It got to the point where she had so many questions that my dad couldn’t answer. So that is when she came to the lesson with my dad. And she stayed faithful ever since.

That’s amazing! So, where did the idea for a podcast come from?

When I was teaching at the Missionary Training Center (MTC), we were having a work meeting. One of the trainers asked us what we could do to push missionary work forward now that we were back from our missions. I was thinking about it and I was like you know what? A podcast would actually be really helpful! My parents are converts, and even though they have been in the Church for almost thirty years, I feel like their conversion to the gospel isn’t all the way there because I think there are cultural things that are preventing them from embracing the gospel wholeheartedly whether or not they know it. On my mission, I saw that a lot of cultural barriers came up that would lead to them not being able to endure to the end.

What do you hope to accomplish with this podcast?

Another catalyst that made me want to reach out and figure out how to get this thing started is that I had a friend reach out to me. She is from China. She asked if we could talk about something spiritual. She had been a convert of about 7 or 8 years by now. We talked and she brought up examples of people who had been so strong and then left the Church, and about converts she knew that weren’t strong in the Church anymore. She was hesitant to reach out to them about spiritual things because she didn’t know if they were strong in the Church anymore. That got me thinking: if that is such a big, not-problem, but enduring to the end is such a big topic, it’s what we really are about right? At the end of the day, it is to get people to exaltation, to the Celestial kingdom, and if she feels hesitant or she feels like she can’t reach out to people around her, that’s kind of sad. So I think at least for the converts that I have met, for that friend that I know, I hope that this can be a tool that they can use to look at successful converts, or people who were not born in the Church and had to adopt this whole new culture and how they successfully did it. I think those real world examples would be invaluable.

Why did you specifically choose a podcast as your platform?

I think that it’s the easiest medium to reach the audience I want to reach. I want it to reach people who may find reading hard. Or people who, maybe if one day China opens up it can strengthen the converts there. I want it to not have any barriers.

That’s a great goal. Do you have any last thoughts you’d like to share?

I have one scripture that I love. It’s 2 Nephi 5:27, “And it came to pass that we lived after the manner of happiness.” I think that is the gist of the gospel. At the end of the day, it is to have true joy.

Incline Thine Ear to Wisdom

One of my favorite scriptures is in Proverbs 2:2. “…incline thine ear unto wisdom, and apply thine heart to understanding.” In this day and age the Lord has provided miraculous tools for connection. The power of podcasting is immeasurable, because it is the power of voice. It can educate. It can uplift. It can inspire. Podcasting allows us to sit down and spark the needed conversations about topics that are crucial to this day and age. Hopefully someday it can bless those who need it in China. For now we can listen and learn. Maybe you could even start your own podcast! What we call all do is use this power for good, by speaking, and by listening to those who finally have voices to raise.

Sources

Tyler Nelson is an English Major at Utah Valley University, and will graduate with his Bachelor’s degree in English, Creative Writing this fall. He is the author of five published short stories, including Letters From Bahati which can be found through Owl Canyon Press. He is also the host of Mission Report, a podcast all about interviewing returned missionaries and letting them share their experiences and advice for future missionaries. Tyler and his wife currently live up on a hill in Provo, UT.

Acting with Juice Boxes: Exploring Indian Breathing Techniques

January 20, 2021 By Brittany Passmore 2 Comments

I certainly don’t consider myself a professional actress by any means, but I cherish the memories I have from participating in school and community productions. Because we have so many talented and aspiring actors and actresses in our membership, I wanted to talk about a breathing technique I learned from my high school theatre teacher about rasa boxes.

Rasa Boxes

My director taught me and my peers this Indian breathing technique during one of our many play rehearsals. He explained to us that rasa was an Indian word that could be translated as “breath” but also “the juice of life.” We joked that the rasa box technique could also be called the “juice box” technique.

The technique can be illustrated with a three-by-three square. Each box represents a different state of emotion, such as sadness, pleasure, anger, and so on.

raudra anger, frustration, rage	bhayanaka fear, terror	karuna sadness
sringara pleasure, bliss	shantra beyond emotion	hasya mirth, laughter
bibhatsa disgust	vira gallantry, heroics, courage	adbuda wonder, awe

Shantra is in the centermost box because it is “beyond emotion,” or a neutral state that can lead to all other emotional states.

The main idea behind rasa boxes is that your breath can be used as a tool to embody these various emotional states. Once you “activate” or engage the breath properly, you can better feel and portray the actual emotion throughout your body.

The Exercise

My teacher led us through an exercise to try out the technique. We would always start with shantra, a calm and even breath. There, we would re-center ourselves before and after we attempted other emotional states.

We would pick one of the rasa boxes—like vira, for example, the breath of gallantry, heroics, and courage—and try to activate that breath. We measured the intensity of our breath (and thus the emotion) on a scale of one to ten, one being the weakest and ten being the strongest. Then we would work our way up and down the scale to explore the breath—not necessarily to get all the way to a 10 but to see how our breath influenced our body language. After playing with the breath at different intensities, we would go back to shantra, recenter, and choose another rasa box.

It wasn’t an easy exercise. I struggled at first to know how to portray an emotion like vira—after all, how do you breathe heroically? My director encouraged us to just keep focusing and projecting the emotion through our breath. He warned us to not overthink the exercise and let go of whatever held us back, and I found myself understanding the technique more as I tried other breaths.

A young woman sitting crosslegged with her hands in front of her diaphram, breathing.

Takeaway Lessons

I learned from this exercise that how I breathed could actually influence how I felt and how my body reacted. I wasn’t an expert at applying this technique in all my high school acting, but I think it helped me better portray the role of a simple countrywoman going into shock after experiencing a driveby shooting.

And although I don’t usually remember all of the Indian names for the different rasa boxes, I’ve become more aware of how my breath is related to my everyday actions. I’ve learned that focusing a little control on my breathing can truly influence my attitude and the results I see in my life.

Try out this breathing technique in your acting (or everyday) pursuits! Remember that the point is not to overthink the process and get each emotion perfect on every number of the scale. The point is to explore what your breath does to your emotions and body so you can be more aware of the power your breath has and discover new ways to portray various emotions.

***

Brittany Passmore graduated from BYU with a major in editing and publishing. She works as a freelance editor specializing in science-fiction and fantasy. When she’s not reading, writing, or editing, Brittany loves to be a stay-at-home mom to her 18-month-old son and dabble in her musical hobbies of piano, flute, guitar, and singing. Oh, and of course, she loves practicing yoga.

Website: https://brittanympassmore.wixsite.com/passmoreedits