On a quiet Sunday morning at Seaside Park in Bridgeport, waves roll steadily against the shore as a group of women gathers near a single wooden bench. The only green bench in the park, it has become more than just a place to sit. It is the heart of a sisterhood called Sisters at the Shore, women who meet to pray, reflect and care for one another and their city.
The founder, Thayer Barkley, says it began with a vision. She recalls being awakened between 3 and 5 a.m. night after night, unsure why she could not rest. “I was really asking God, what do you want from me? Why do you keep waking me up?” she said.
What followed was an image she could not ignore. “I basically had a vision of women gathered lining the shores. Not just this shore, but shores across the nation, across the world.” Unsure where it might lead, she posted a question on Facebook: how many other women were being awakened at that time? The responses poured in. Women said, “me, me, me,” and from there, a movement was born.
Faith guided Barkley to act. “I never really spent time with a lot of women. It was always conflict and drama. I didn’t want to deal with it. So I knew that was God telling me to do this,” she said. Following instructions she says were placed in her heart, she brought a drum, prayed silently by the water and let the rest unfold. “It was about coming and speaking to God. In silence. Letting the water hold our prayers.”
The first gathering was small. Friends shared the invitation, word spread and soon the circle widened. As word of the group’s impact grew, Barkley was invited to workshops and beaches across the country and abroad to share what Sisters at the Shore was doing in Bridgeport. That’s how the prayers at Seaside Park spread to places like Chicago, North Carolina and even Italy. “I sounded the drum there and people came from every direction. And we prayed by that water. It has happened in so many places, and I know there will be more,” she said.
For Barkley, the connection to water is spiritual and rooted in her upbringing. “My father was from North Carolina. My mother from Virginia. We are Blackfoot and Cherokee by blood. We were taught about nature, about the water and the skies and God. Not necessarily in a religious upbringing, but to honor God through nature. Water is life. Without water, there is no life. Man can try to duplicate many things but not the water. The cleansing, the power, the way it can move rocks and change formations. That same power can change our lives.”
Every Sunday, the women begin in silence, sending prayers out toward the water. They do not recite the same words or follow one faith tradition. Barkley made it clear the circle was never meant to be exclusive. “I didn’t want it to be about one faith, one race, not even one gender. God said gather the women, but He also said men would come. Jewish, Muslim, Catholic, Christian — we learn from each other. The central goal is love.”
The inclusivity drew longtime Bridgeport resident Lori Caple to the shore. “I felt that unity and warmth and love. They accepted me, and I embraced it,” she said. For Caple, the power of the gathering is in both prayer and action. “Anything in the community that we can do, we do. From gun violence to food drives. The prayer is powerful. I’m grateful for the sisters.” She described bonding with an elder in the group who reminded her of her mother, a friendship rooted in care and wisdom.
Barbara Pouchet Griffin is also a Bridgeport resident. She arrived laughing. “I didn’t even know where to go on the beach. The ladies all had a chuckle out of that,” she said. But she returned not just for camaraderie. “I used to go to church, and I got my family into church, but to see how genuine the people are here is different. A lot of women go to other shores, but I come back because our silent prayers really work. We pray for our city, our country, our state, our family and friends. We welcome everyone, no matter race or religion. These ladies have become my sisters. God put us on this mission. We are in communities dealing with domestic violence, with seniors, with men. It’s an amazing group, all from one post that said, ‘meet me at the shore.’”
Denese Taylor-Moye, a City Council member in Bridgeport and one of the elders of Sisters at the Shore, said the gatherings are about unity. “We are still navigating through everything, but we have grown and learned just by looking at the water. Us. Just how united we are,” she said.
Beth Lazar resides near downtown Bridgeport and emphasized belonging and service. “The group gives me an opportunity to serve the community,” she said, recalling handing out gloves and scarves to people without shelter. “We’ve done retreats, school giveaways. It is belonging, but also action.”
Nicole Bass Adams has been living in Bridgeport for more than a decade and added, “We’re a sisterhood. We have a sense of community. It’s not just one side. We care about the city of Bridgeport — everyone, homeless, children, moms, people affected by violence.”
Bridgeport itself holds deep significance for Barkley. Raised in the city, she knows its struggles and reputation. “I see the trauma of Bridgeport and the bad rap that we get. I just want to show people there’s more, that we matter, that we’re important.” Choosing Seaside Park was intentional. Barkley sought permission from a tribal mother of the Golden Hill Paugussett tribe, acknowledging the land as having an ancestral and sacred history. “As a Native American, we are very careful not to go into someone’s ancestral area without acknowledging it. This honors the land. I’ll thank the water, I’ll thank the trees, I’ll thank the sky. Because I believe it all has memory.”
The green bench where the women gather is woven into that sacredness. “I’m not sure how this section was picked, it just happened,” Barkley said. “But this is where our elders sit. And elders are very important. Their wisdom is unmatchable, their presence sacred. This is not your ordinary bench. Why did they spare this bench? Why is it the only wood one in the park? And why did we pick it without even knowing that? Now the women are asking, let’s make it a Sisters at the Shore bench, because what started here is going across the world.”
Barkley believes any recognition of the bench should honor the Golden Hill Paugussett tribe. “It’s about acknowledgment. We get to sit here because they were here. It would also symbolize our faithfulness. I’ve been doing this for five years. Rain, snow, sleet. We’ve only missed maybe two or three times. Even if they close the parks, we walk in. Women say this is the most special 20 minutes of their week.”
The gatherings have expanded into workshops addressing trauma, purpose and healing. Barkley notes that many people do not realize they carry trauma because they are too busy surviving. “A lot of people are not breathing. Their breathing is shallow. Your body can cleanse and heal when you take conscious breaths. Stop, breathe, get clarity and then sit still and wait for God to answer.”
The workshops cover everything from finding purpose to navigating grief. “It’s about giving people an outlet and also teaching them, you can do this too. I don’t want to always be the face. I want people to walk into their own. If your gift is baking a cake, bake the best cake and let that be your purpose.”
Healing the community, Barkley says, begins with individuals walking in purpose. “Once you’re walking in your purpose, you won’t be sad, depressed, or envious. You’ll be happier. And if you’re that way most of the time, we are all going to be better. It has to start within in order to reach others.” She emphasizes modeling that for children. “The children are watching us. They come in with joy, and us as traumatized adults often dampen that. But if we encourage them, if we support them, we can heal ourselves too. Everything has a purpose. That’s what I want people to learn.”
The dream for Sisters at the Shore stretches far beyond Bridgeport. Barkley envisions synchronized prayer around the world, women and men gathered by lakes, waterfalls and oceans every Sunday morning, sending prayers into the water. She has already seen it begin in Chicago, Italy, Florida, California and Kentucky. “What started here in Bridgeport is now in other cities and other countries. The dream is for every natural body of water to be a place where prayer and healing take place.”
The women also take their work beyond the beach. They organize community cleanups, host wellness workshops and support local schools. “It’s not just about prayer. It’s about action,” Barkley said. “If we see someone struggling, we step in. We find ways to serve, and it all starts with that connection by the water.”