When I was 16, a song came on the radio that changed my life. I was in the car with my mom, the sticky Texas summer heat pouring in through the windows. “We’ve got a new one for you,” said the DJ, “from newcomer Katy Perry.”
Drums rolled. A glittery guitar line. “This was never the way I planned, not my intention.”
Having grown up on R&B and gospel music, my ears always perked up at pop-rock, a genre that felt like a rebellious parallel
