Grief is a unique thing. It doesn’t care what race you are. Grief has no regard to whether you drive a Lamborghini or an Oldsmobile. It folds into the shadows of mansions and trailer parks alike. Forget about a political preference - grief doesn’t bat an eye.

Sitting in room 122 of Hayworth Chapel with eight other people, I was about to embark on a pilgrimage. This was no vacation. Instead, it was a trip where we would see the world through a purposeful and religious lens. We went around the room introducing ourselves, each of us in search of something different.