I grew up in Paradise, the U.S.VI., where I was never far from an oasis of white sand and the marvelous majesty of the shallow turquoise sea. It was a ritual to pick lemongrass from the yard and make a cup of tea before school. It also was not unusual to be awakened on a Saturday morning to the distinct sound of mangoes crashing down into a bed of expired leaves. Sometimes my grandmother would need us to fill a plastic bag of gooseberries for her gooseberry stew. Never the less this idea of staying close to plants is in my DNA.
To be sick meant my mother picking sour sop leaves, and boiling them, and then sitting in a bath of tea leaves until our finger tips resembled raisins.
Therefore my team is my mother, her mother, my dad, his mother, and grandmother and all those who planted in my DNA to stay close to God's creation.