When Katy Perry released “Roar” back in 2013, it’s safe to say it became an instant pop sensation. Initially, upon hearing the song, a critical blog post started forming in my mind. Despite enjoying the catchy tune that my daughters loved to play on repeat, I was tempted to dissect what seemed like a somewhat simplistic and perhaps naive message within the lyrics.
Perry’s narrative in “Roar” paints a picture of personal transformation. She recounts a past where she felt small and unheard, a “zero,” but now, empowered, she’s ready to take on the world. This newfound strength is symbolized by the “eye of the tiger,” declaring herself a champion ready to “roar.”
My initial skepticism stemmed from the belief that self-proclamation isn’t enough to overcome real-life struggles. I considered those drawn to the song – individuals grappling with feelings of inadequacy, oppression, or being overwhelmed. Would simply singing about roaring and being a champion genuinely empower them to conquer their difficult circumstances? It felt like a superficial solution to profound problems.
I was on the verge of publishing this critique when I stumbled upon something that completely shifted my perspective: YouTube videos showcasing cancer patients and teenagers with Down syndrome singing “Roar.” These weren’t professional performances; they were raw, heartfelt expressions sung with fragile voices yet filled with undeniable sincerity. Footage of these young individuals bravely trying out for cheerleading squads further amplified the emotional impact. These videos were genuinely moving, prompting a reconsideration of the song’s meaning.
Katy Perry Prism album cover featuring Katy Perry, associated with her hit song “Roar”.
On one level, the challenges these individuals face are immense. Life-threatening illnesses and genetic disorders are not simply overcome by positive affirmations or symbolic roars. Declaring oneself a champion cannot magically erase the harsh realities of their conditions.
However, on another, more profound level, these individuals are champions. They embody the very essence of fighters. They possess an indomitable spirit, a true “eye of the tiger.” These are people whose spirits have endured the crushing weight of illness and societal limitations, even as their bodies face immense challenges. They radiate a powerful zest for life, refusing to be relegated to the sidelines despite societal barriers. In their own unique ways, they have been roaring louder than lions, even if their voices are soft whispers.
This realization stopped my critical blog post in its tracks. It became clear that while simply calling oneself a champion may not directly alter life’s difficult circumstances, music possesses a unique ability to tap into our deepest emotions and unspoken feelings. It gives voice to sentiments we may not have the words for, the courage to express, or even the awareness to fully understand.
For someone in an abusive relationship, “Roar” might serve as a potent reminder of their inherent worth, defying the demeaning words of their abuser. For a patient facing a terminal illness, the song can become a declaration of defiance, a refusal to surrender spirit even as the body weakens. It’s an assertion that even in the face of defeat, the soul remains undefeated.
What then can a song truly do? Perhaps it can ignite the resilient spirit within those who possess hidden reserves of strength. Maybe it can rally those who have lost sight of what is worth fighting for in this world. Perhaps, most powerfully, a song like “Roar” serves as a potent reminder of the strength we already possess, a strength we have always known deep down but needed music to help us express and embrace.
Music, in its essence, is powerful. I am grateful I reconsidered my initial critique. I am glad Katy Perry roared, and in doing so, inspired countless others to find their own roar within.
