We keep returning to the same observation and question: what are we seeing that makes the walk and spirit of the men and women of African different to us? What captivates us and forces us to see them differently? We see glimpses of ourselves but not fully how we carry ourselves—just something we carry within us and sometimes exhibit. Something keeps pulling us back when we see a college student pass by, a woman carrying her trinkets on her head, a family walking together down the street, a walk that seems difficult to describe but also one that calls out to us. I can't help but think of Maya Angelou's poem, "Phenomenal Woman," and how she asks the question of what is the secret of what men and women see in her: her gate, her smile, her grace, her inner mystery. These are the same questions we seem to be asking as we search the eyes and walk and stance of the Ghanaian people. Today, as we drove to the school we visited, we discussed this mystery and had some rich revelations.

The look is not swag, not hip, not cool, not gangsta, not "pimping," not the "copying blindly" walk (a term we have heard many times here for the missteps that youth often make when following wrong influences), but the deeper, richer, stronger stance of the Ghanaians is what we have observed: the term is regal, royal, instinctively proud of their heritage and place in the world and trust in the value each of us adds to the world and to each other. Their walk, their look is one of trust—trusting in themselves, others, the earth, and the eternal truth that life has a way of giving each of us value individually and collectively. When this word and this feeling came over me, I knew this was the necessary hope and trust that our college students need—and all humans need this of course. But I see it distinctively in the African walk.

We had time to explore this for a significant amount of time today when we visited the University of Ghana National Vocational Training Institute (NVTI). We first met with the faculty who had been convened by the most Honorable Betty, a council woman and past governor of the Western Region of Ghana. Side Note: When Honorable Betty spoke, people listened, people moved, and people were convinced. She advocated for us by talking to what binds us as brothers and sisters. She indicated that their prayers for the US Diaspora Africans were always in their hearts and on their lips and that they never forget the pain we endure when we sense we are lost or when we are disheartened because of institutional racism that has plagued the world and never been reconciled. She advocated on behalf of our effort to bring students and to develop an exchange process that would allow African students and US students to visit each other's countries. The faculty and students are receptive. Now, we have plenty of advocates. We just have to figure out how to make something work, along with our other plans of working out a trip process for our students.

What really stood out to me about the trip was after we met with the 20 or so faculty was when they told us we would be able to interact with a few students and get to know them. We were escorted over to another building and thought we were going into a small conference room or some student activities area to visit with maybe 5 or so students. Imagine our dismay when we walked through the back door of a conference hall filled with at least 300 of their students who were eagerly awaiting us with front tables, podiums, and microphones. Oh my! Thank God I am used to talking in front of large groups of people or this would have been a reason to faint. Although we did not video tape our presentations, both Michael and I were able to respond as if we had prepared in advance. The students were outstanding in that they wanted to help connect with our students and give a sense of honor to their ancestry.

After the assembly, we walked around with a smaller group of students after the presentation to look over the technical college aspects, and then we debriefed on our time. The constant feel in the room was that we are brothers and sisters and they want us to know we are thought of and prayed for each day—and that our pain is felt. They are also looking forward to meeting more of us. Of all times to have that emotional surge, this was the time. I was overwhelmed with emotion when I heard their sincere appreciation and concern for us and came to realize that they have the dignity and heart and joy that I want to bring to my students, my community, my nephew, my God Son, my family. I had to stop talking because my the lump in my throat and the tears dropping from my eyes were for the experience that I hope to share with those I love.