Whenever I have an opportunity to stand on the shoreline of the Gullah/Geechee Nation my spirit gets renewed. It is not only the warm Sea Island breeze laced in salt with its unique smell, it is also the rustle in the trees and the sway of the salt marsh that a dancer like me finds kinship with. I can hear an ancestral choir singing to a polyrhythmic beat that tends to be punctuated by the rhythms of crashing waves or the ripples in the river. Tenk GAWD fa de Sea Islands!

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