Currently, I am in Hilton Head, South Carolina enjoying the first relaxing beach vacation that I have had in three years. This is the first time, in a long time, that my entire family was able to come together and spend one week at the beach. It has been wonderful! Unfortunately, the weather has been slighly less than desirable. Though this would have been our first "real" beach day today, most of it has been spent either in the rain or on the closed in porch located in the back of our beach villa. Nevertheless, we are making the best of it!

This morning, my mother and I decided to brave the heavy rains and bike for an hour and a half. Within about 30 minutes, we were completely drenched, but I found the pitter patter of the raindrops to be rather theraputic. On the plus side, after becoming completely drenched, I soon forgot I was even wet. This, I suppose, may have been a blessing in disguise. As we traveled along the wet, rather dismal bike path, we came upon an old baptist church and a one-room school house called Cherry Hill School. Next to the schoolhouse, there was a brief historical synopsis explaining the importance of the schoolhouse and its historical value. This school was built around 1937 and operated until the African-American children attended the new consolidated elementary school in 1954. The Gullah community originally raised the money to build this school so that the children could become more educated. Apparently, it is really the only one-room school house that is currently left on the island. Many of the other 20th century African American school houses have been torn down. Thus, it truly preserves an important time in history.

Although this phrase "separated school house" makes me cringe, I acknowledge the sad fact that slavery still exists today. That, although we have "come a long way," we really "haven't come a long way at all." Something I became passionate about in college is the opression that exists within the public education system. The fact that, there are still many children who are not receiving the education they need because they live in a poorer area of the city, etc. It is moments when I look at an old one-room school house and I remember how much time and effort it must have took for the Gullah community to raise enough money to build that schoolhouse, and I realize that so much more needs to be done. It is frightening. It is humbling. It grounds my dreams and ambitions and reminds me why I am here, why I care, and why I love.