My journey to South Africa began in childhood.  I grew up a Brown little girl in a predominantly black, inner city neighborhood in East Oakland, California. That community was home; it was my place of belonging.  Not only did my environment give me a front row seat to social and racial dynamics, but this legacy-filled city called Oakland had also been the birthplace of the Black Panthers just ten years before I was born, making it a city whose very DNA was grounded in a passion for freedom, equality, and the pursuit of civil rights.  As a result of growing up there, by the time I was 12 I was already very passionate - and opinionated, I might add - about issues of social justice, especially race.

I was 13 when I saw Nelson Mandela released from prison on TV.  I asked what was happening, why this was so important, and I got the five minute version of the Apartheid system in South Africa.  My little adolescent mind was properly blown. I was haunted by the reality that if such laws existed in my corner of the world, I would not be allowed to live in my neighborhood among people that I considered family.  My best friend was remarkable, beautiful, and black.  I simply could not wrap my mind around the prospect.

Even at 13, I was already well educated about the Civil Rights Movement, thanks to the History Channel, PBS, Oakland Public Schools, and all the books I could get my hands on. But in my mind, that was the past. This thing called Apartheid was happening now!  In 1990! 

I was horrified and captivated.  So I began reading.  Following things as they unfolded in South Africa. For 15 years.  Through the transition into democracy, the election of Mandela, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, the electing - and removing - of Thabo Mbeki, and most things in between.  

At 26, I started Seminary to get my Master's of Divinity.  With my passion for race, justice, and reconciliation, I declared a concentration in Intercultural Ministry.  This concentration required that I go oversees for part of a year to do a full time internship, to a country of my choice.

The choice was a no-brainer; I felt a piece of my soul was already in South Africa. Only trouble was:  I did not know a soul there.  In 2008, at 30 years old, I landed an internship in the Justice, Truth, and Reconciliation Dept. in the national office of the SACC, one of the organizations that led the fight against Apartheid.  It was extraordinary.

During those months, I fell in love with Soweto.  

I returned to the U.S. long enough to do my oral exam and finish my Master's Degree - just a few months - and then relocated to South Africa.