♪♪ Musicians playing. ♪♪ [Dancers representing white orcas
move with grace among themselves.] [Gradually they form a
protective circle.] [New scene.] [TAHLEQUAH] One day,
I see my good, bone china riding the
crest of a tide of laughter. It hits the table a little too hard. And the sound of bone meeting glass … [ÈṢÙ] Causes your head to tilt and
your eyebrows to furrow ? … [TAHLEQUAH] My guests are still
chittering, but I’m focused on my china, noticing a chip here … [ÈṢÙ] And here … [TAHLEQUAH] There … [ÈṢÙ] A hairline fracture here … [TAHLEQUAH] There … [ÈṢÙ] Broken … [TAHLEQUAH] Handle here … My momma gave me this tea set. It was
the first set of china she owned. All the
way from England. They don’t even make this set anymore. [ÈṢÙ] How do you feel? [TAHLEQUAH] It is irreplaceable.
[ÈṢÙ] How do you feel? [TAHLEQUAH] I grab one of the fractured
cups and pour myself some tea, reminiscing on the time that used to be
a warm medley of sweet oranges, ginger and
cinammon all gone bitter. [ÈṢÙ] How do you feel? [TAHLEQUAH] I gingerly put my cup down
knowing that I’ve reached a
breaking point. [New scene.] [ÈṢÙ and praise singers]
Omi ooo. Wa ti ti wa. Wa ti ti wa.
Omi ooo. Wa ti ti wa. Wa ti ti wa. [TAHLEQUAH] I can’t swim. I can’t swim.
I can’t … [ÈṢÙ] Yes you can. [TAHLEQUAH] I can’t swim. [New scene] [ÈṢÙ] Give thanks for the
orcas who traveled for thousands of
miles, Join their dirge. Dance your way to peace. Find liberation in your vulnerability. Heed their invitations to release.