Gullah Singers at the Chalk It Up! festival in late March, photo by Luke Frazier
Getting to know a place can be a tricky business, truly understanding its culture even trickier. I remember hearing about the “Gullah-Geechee People” before moving to Beaufort and taking a deep dive online. I found Gullah/Geechee Nation and Queen Quet, the NPS designation of the Gullah-Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor, and tons more. I also saw lists of Gullah Festivals and tours, points of interest, and competing claims of authenticity. Gullah culture felt both diffuse and deep, with certain aspects pre-packaged for the tourist industry and a common thread throughout of education—wanting the wider world to get what Gullah was.
What I wanted to know was how it looked and felt in its natural state; what did it consist of in its essence? Of course its root is the enslavement of West Africans on the sea islands of the Carolinas south to Florida, but what else is Gullah-Geechee culture in the context of today?
Years ago, I heard some professor shorthand the definition of “culture” as webs of significance. That made sense to me, encompassing activities, attitudes, artifacts, and values of an identified group. What is affirmed as important and representative?
After moving here, I decided to keep my angle of approach to understanding Gullah culture intentionally casual—have my eyes and ears open, attend events, and meet people as they were revealed, rather than go into full research and study mode. I wanted to understand and feel what Gullah culture was about more organically; I wanted to get it.
So far, after eight months of living here, what has emerged is a sense of the significance of all kinds of spiritual expressions and the righteous celebration of color as a cultural marker. My depth of understanding about both themes is limited by time, but I know that these webs are worth exploring.
Along the spiritual avenue we were immediately confronted by the historical reality of slavery after we missed a driveway on Coffin Point Road, where we were going to buy some used bikes. We happened to turn around right in front of The Coffin Point Community Praise House. There it sat, ten yards off the road, compact and dignified, three steps up to a plain white door. We peeked in the windows and saw pictures, benches, an altar, and enough room to pack maybe 20-30 worshipers. Later I learned that the reason Praise Houses were so small was that plantation owners wanted to prevent too many enslaved individuals from gathering. I thought about the folly of trying to limit Spirit in these or any walls and was glad this rebuilt structure was still in use as a testament and place of witness.
Just a few weeks later we attended an event at The Penn Center that revealed a different, less religiously formal, spiritual expression of Gullah culture. The workshop was part of something called St. Helena Sense of Place Series and titled Sound Clinic – Rhythm of Da Land. We were treated to a wonderfully woven experience of sound and story by artists Mahoganee and Andre Amiger, a husband and wife duo. They brought in water memory, ancestral honor, and sound healing to their musical performance and interactive discussion. Mahoganee has been dubbed “Da Sea Island Songbird” and her soaring voice lifted the assembled like joyful trade winds. She also spoke movingly of the power of actual physical connection to the land on St. Helena’s Island. Those few hours helped me get up close and personal with individuals who identified and expressed themselves as Gullah people, providing an opportunity to listen and learn.
Another musical event highlighted Gullah praise energy, choir-style, during a reception to kick off the recent Chalk Art Festival. A Gullah Griot shared a few reflections before breaking into song. Then colorfully clad singers would build waves of sound as they offered Sunday church selections that created sacred vibes, sharing the lead as freely as the smiles on their faces. A couple of young kids twirled as the voice-drum-shaker-percussion combination filled the room with joyful noise.
But while the religious aspects of Gullah culture have jumped to the forefront so far, there is also something about vibrant colors that carries significance. Not just in the gorgeous clothing that is commonly seen, but in the Gullah artwork that abounds. It has a very Caribbean feel, which of course also ties back to West Africa. And while Jonathan Green is well known and outstanding, it is Melvin (Mel) Green’s abstract paintings that have rocked my world since encountering his work at LyBensons’ Gallery on St. Helena Island. In part 2 of Getting Gullah-Geechee, I’ll share more about the painter’s incredible work.
