When each of us arrived at Freetown, our hearts and souls were held together by twine and tape and glue. Little more than a patchwork of pieces. Like a sweater with one loose thread, a simple pull threatened to unravel the whole. Each of us walked in with a singular need: to be known. I used to think the need ended there. Repair the tear and fix the person. Wrong. What I saw happening across the streets of Freetown, from fashion to dance to photography, convinced me there is one need deeper. To be accepted in the knowing. Maybe that’s rescue.
