Last summer, I was in my hometown of Lincoln, NE eating lunch with my mother and grandma at the Lincoln Foundation Garden – a cozy downtown garden square where during the summer, local artist perform at lunch hour. Employees pack a brown bag lunch and emerge from their offices in suits and skirts to enjoy the music and scenery. It’s also where my mom used to take my older sister and I after swimming lessons at the YWCA and the library to buy us rainbow popcorn when we were little girls. That particular day, we were in for a treat. A charming acapella group called the B aby Needs Shoes Trio was performing energetic renditions of the Andrew Sisters songs as well as some quirky, comedic songs about the ups and downs of womanhood, making the audience smile and keeping us happily entertained. They began a slower, more serious song and it soon caught my attention. In fact, I suddenly hung on every word and could not take my eyes off them. They were slightly older ladies, one even made sev