Many people have likely only heard of Janis Ian from for her two major hits, Society’s Child, from 1965, and At Seventeen, from 1975. A new documentary on the life and career of the Jewish singer-songwriter, whose songs have been covered by stars from Cher to Nina Simone to Dave Grohl, is out in select theaters on March 28.

Janis Ian: Breaking Silence is a revelatory documentary about the extraordinary poet and folksinger who sets life to music, a trailblazer and gay icon whose songs addressed taboo topics, and a performer who rose to fame as a teenager and won her first Grammy Award—for At Seventeen.

Her second Grammy came in 2013, for her autobiographical spoken-word album, also called “Society’s Child,” in which she discussed coming out as gay.

The film highlights how controversial Society’s Child, a track about interracial relationships, was in the 1960s, when Ian released it as teenager. The song, about a mother who wouldn’t let her daughter’s boyfriend in the house because “he’s not our kind,” was banned from many radio stations in the United States, and early sales were dismal. It later became a hit after it was used in the documentary Inside Rock: The Pop Revolution, hosted by legendary conductor and composer Leonard Bernstein.

After its original release, Ian was sent death threats and her performances subjected to hecklers.

The film recreates one such disruptive incident: About 20 people paid to get into her performance in a concert hall in Encino, Calif. As she started the second verse of Society’s Child, they began shouting racist slurs at her.

Ian, who was only 15, put her guitar down and fled from the stage.

The promoter told her he couldn’t believe that the person who wrote that song was a coward. And Ian, who narrates the film, recalls thinking, “I was raised to be a Maccabee,” and she returned to the stage to finish her set.

“I was feeling like crap,” she said in a telephone interview. “I was feeling scared. I was feeling angry. I was feeling all those things. And when I went back, I was feeling victorious.”

In the film, she calls that moment “a life-altering event.” There were audience members who defended her, she noted, which proved that a “song didn’t just have the power to make people angry, but it had the power to make people stand up for what was right, and that was a big deal. [Knowing] music could do that was a large part of what got me back on my course.”

In a wide-ranging interview, the 73-year-old spoke about her life in music, her Jewish upbringing and being on stage as a teenager. This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.

---

Society’s Child had its genesis in an interracial couple you saw on a bus. How were you able to write such a revolutionary song at the age of 14?

It’s just talent. I was lucky enough to be born with a lot of talent for music and words. My mother was an actress on the Yiddish stage. She acted with Jacob Adler when she was 12. And my father [a musician] always directed choruses and played music. So there was all that in the house, too. There was a love of words. There was a love of music.

Also, if you’re born with a lot of talent and you’re lucky enough to be born into a family that recognizes it and cultivates it and enjoys it, then everything becomes a lot easier. If I tried to be a ballet dancer and had no talent, my family would recognize that and hopefully not encourage me. But I was clearly gifted in music and words, and they really encouraged it. I was lucky to be born into the right family and the right culture and at the right time.

You were raised on a chicken farm in a secular Jewish household in Monmouth County, N.J. Tell us a bit about your Jewish education growing up.

I only briefly attended Hebrew school, but I had plenty of Jewish cultural background. We went to seders every year and observed the High Holy Days. One of my grandparents would take us to temple, and we never celebrated Christmas.

Your songs have touched many, and among the most meaningful for me is Tattoo, about a woman, a Holocaust survivor, whose “new name was tattooed on her wrist.” How did that song come about?

I had been to see a young singer from Kentucky named Lance Callin at the Bluebird Cafe [in Nashville]. He sang this song about the Holocaust, and I thought it was shameful that this Christian kid from Kentucky, with no connection to it at all, was writing about it and I hadn’t. I’d always felt it was too big a topic to handle. But then I realized it was just my own fear of not living up to the subject. I worked on the song for three months.

You’ve experienced many ups and downs in your career. As a teenager performing on The Smothers Brothers show, Bill Cosby called you a lesbian and tried to blacklist your music as not being suitable family entertainment. Later, your business manager stole your money and left you bankrupt. More recently, doctors discovered scarring on your vocal cords that prevents you from singing. Looking back, how would you describe everything you’ve been through?

I’ve had a great life. I’ve been lucky, really. I went through all that and came out unscathed. I’ve been living with Pat [Patricia Snyder] for 36 years. We live in a great house in a great place, even though it’s in Florida.

You have a positive attitude about it all. I just wish there was a cure for your vocal-cord problem.

I wish so, too. On the other hand, I’m sure it’s going to leave me a lot more time for writing. It’s a Pollyanna thing. You can look at it another way. I’ve become more positive later in life as I realize how resilient I am.

You’ve had hit songs and best-selling albums, and you’ve gotten some of the greatest artists in the world to record your music, including the late Roberta Flack (your song Jesse) and Cher (Reach for the Stars). What are you most proud of?

I think what I’m proudest of is that in my 60-odd year career, I’ve never hurt anyone with my music. And I’ve helped a lot of people. That’s a good legacy.

---

Curt Schleier, a freelance writer, teaches business writing to corporate executives.