I once toured Western Canada with a teenager who sang a song about a convict grieving over the woman he had killed. The song focused on how deeply the man in prison regretted his actions, and the teenager delivered it as if that was the real weight of the story – the convict’s remorse. That upset me. Centering the man’s feelings instead of the true horror, the woman he murdered. The problem wasn’t just his guilt. Over time I realized a lot of the world is that teenager.