You Got to Move

Growing up, I attended church faithfully every Sunday. It was something we did as a family, (and the rule in our house). While I sat in abject boredom during the sermons, I loved it when the congregation sang the hymns or the choir performed. I’d belt out the words or ad lib during those old-time, gospel spirituals that had everyone standing on their feet and clapping to the beat. We were black and Baptist, and carrying on the traditions of our ancestors. The music seemed to uplift the soul,...