From rebels to realists: We can’t do this alone
Music can be a powerful sonic yearbook. Certain songs can blow you back in time with the force of an amp that “goes up to 11.”
The best songs from the past can renew you with fresh appreciation of not only who you once were, but who you are now … and what the future may call you to be.
This month we hear the siren call of Bruce Springsteen singing to us from 50 years ago—September of 1975, when Born to Run first hit the charts. If you are like us, you remember where you were when you heard it for the first time—whether it was five decades ago or just last week. It hit you in the solar plexus. You felt it. The music. The lyrics.
But the album offered more than a driving beat. It spoke to your spirit as well. In some visceral way you could relate to it—and felt it related to you. (We are smiling as we write this—the memory of that first listening washing over us. We hope as you think back, you are as well).
What is interesting about art is that your experience of it often says more about you and where you are than it does about the piece itself.
When Born to Run was released we listened to it over and over as teenagers awkwardly stumbling into our newfound independent identities. We vibed on this thematic idea of the solo, leather-jacketed rebel rocker taking on the world. A lone guitar-slinging troubadour pushing back against convention and saying no.
“Tramps like us, baby we were born to run,” sang Springsteen. And we responded “Yes! You and me, Bruce! We were born to run!”
Today, with fifty years of life behind us, we hear it differently. And not just because we are not listening to it on vinyl or from our car’s eight-track. Now we more clearly hear our rebel rocker pleading for, and getting, help. The notion being we can’t get out of here alone.
On Thunder Road, the album’s very first track, he sings:
“I just can’t face myself alone again…
Come take my hand, we’re riding out tonight to case the promised land…”
On the next cut, Tenth Avenue Freeze Out, Springsteen tells us of the relief he feels when saxophone master Clarence Clemons comes to his side:
“Well, I was stranded in the jungle
Tryin' to take in all the heat they was giving
And I'm all alone, I'm all alone
And I'm on my own, I'm on my own
When the change was made uptown
And the Big Man joined the band”
In retrospect it was easy to feel alone and unmoored in the early to mid-1970s. It felt as if every thread in the social fabric was being pulled apart by the Vietnam War, Watergate, the Oil Crisis, Nixon’s resignation, a sweeping recession with double digit inflation and triple unemployment, and NYC’s financial collapse, and on and on.
It was an unprecedented, harsh and divisive time of tumultuous change.
Sound familiar?
Today, as Born to Run celebrates its golden anniversary, we as healthcare leaders find ourselves in perilous and challenging times, too.
For many of us, instinct tells us we can (and must) singly power through it. After all, we’ve done that before. We’re solo superstar execs with a cause and we are just that good. And, yes, that is a leather jacket hanging behind our office door.
But can you hear Bruce calling? Come take my hand…
Sometimes the moment and the mission demand more from us than solo heroics. In fact, the turning point in Joseph Campbell’s “hero’s journey” is when the hero realizes he or she needs, and asks for, help. In every tale, receiving this helping hand is the beginning of wisdom and the next courageous act on the path forward.
This is that moment for healthcare leaders. We need to ask for help. We need to ask each other for help, ask our teams for help, ask non-traditional partners for help, ask traditional competitors for help. Help can come from unexpected places. Even from a saxophonist.
The challenges that healthcare in America faces today are too great, and the potential solutions too intertwined, for any individual or any single organization to solve on their own.
Now is the time when healthcare heroes seek out help. Not out of weakness but out of strength and a conviction that the whole can be greater than the sum of its parts.
It feels risky, but Springsteen reminds us, there’s no other way to run.
“Will you walk with me out on the wire?
'Cause baby I'm just a scared and lonely rider”
If you missed this point of Springsteen’s Born to Run—which, admittedly, we missed in our salad days of 1975—the iconic album cover reinforces the theme, as the artist leans on Clarance Clemons in friendship and support. As he does so, the anguished rebel rocks a smile.
We can all lean on each other. And we should.
About the authors
Ken Graboys, CEO of Chartis, began his journey not in an office, but in rural Africa, working in communities facing famine and limited access to care. It was there he saw how the foundations of health—food, medicine, compassion—could shape the trajectory of entire communities. In 2001, he co-founded Chartis with the mission to improve the delivery of healthcare in the world. His career path—from fieldwork in Mauritania to healthcare transformation—illustrates a commitment to cultivating healthier communities through thoughtful, sustainable action.
David Jarrard, Chairman of Jarrard, grew up in Oak Ridge, Tennessee—a town shaped by science and innovation. His early career as a journalist covering human stories gave him firsthand insight into how storytelling can influence public perception and drive change, which naturally connects to healthcare, a field where clear communication can impact patient outcomes and organizational success. This foundation led him to build one of the nation’s leading healthcare communications firms.