On a chilly Saturday afternoon in a narrow, unassuming Harlem church, three sopranos fill the room with the first reluctant notes of a gospel hymn. "Lord, I will lift mine eyes to the hill," they sing.
"Don't be passive about it," scolds the Rev. Terrance Kennedy from his spot behind the organ. "I can't even hear that. Can I have more sound please?"
The women nod sheepishly. It's their first attempt at the song. It's also not in their first language.
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