Maya Angelou lived a long, lovely life, full of daring, accomplishment and acclaim. I did not know that her grandfather was a Trinidadian.
Still I Rise was the first poem in my under-educated literary life that moved me with its direct relevance to my own life as a descendant of enslaved peoples and perhaps more so, because it so expressed the exuberant defiance which black women need (ed) to leap over sexism and marginalisation. It has that poem of its time resonance, full of black feminist power vibes.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
The lines come to you at moments: “You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies…” and it is a poem of such triumph “Out of history’s shame, I Rise…..
Now, I am thinking of the last line, “I am the dream and the hope of the slave” as the region struggles with inequalities and with discrimination, especially against the LGBT community. That we would wish to perpetuate laws that make criminals of people who love other people of their own sex seems far enough away from the dream of emancipation. Can we not remember that slavery was also justified in the name of religion?
What's the idea? 
[…] Some bloggers were not even aware of Angelou's West Indian ancestry until her death. What's the idea? said as much in her post, The dream and hope of the slave: […]
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Joy,
I really like your point: that her most important legacy is (for me too) that “nothing and no one could diminish that dignity”. Terrible things happen to people. Some go under and some overcome. Those that overcome are often people of extraordinary strength and dignity. An inspiration indeed…
Blessings
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Roberta, Thanks for making that link.
I applaud the Trini women who have linked sexual (and reproductive) rights and those of domestic workers to their campaign for an inclusive gender policy grounded in human rights..
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Roberta,
I share your pain and disappointment. We need o interrogate the why and how of the teaching. Seems more in the nature of training for the utilitarian function of passing an exam than for educating for knowledge and understanding; for helping young minds to appreciate and enjoy the unity in diversity we’re so privileged to experience on this little rock. But we must not surrender; just can’t afford to! Blessings!
winston
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Oh for the change from passing exam to learning for growth and development…
Maya Angelou is living proof that not passing the exam in not failure.
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Thanks so much for this, Roberta. As usual you seem to know exactly how to put into words the thoughts of others! Interestingly, I was telling my son only two days ago that I should like to explore Caged Bird again from my now older and (I would like to think) wiser perspective. So this shall be my own immediate tribute to her memory.
Sandra
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Me too Sandra. Butalso too her later books.
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I think I’ve re-read On th Pulse of Morning 4 or 5 times from the moment I heard of her passing. There’s something in that poem that tells me, “take the bull by the horns, step out on God’s word, and make a difference”
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I was saddened by the loss of the woman who personified dignity even when she was in her last days.
Not many of us women walk with fearless dignity.
We walk with the sense of burden, the sense of responsibility, the sense of wrongs done us.
Maya Angelou experienced terrible things but those experiences clothed her with dignity which was inspiring.
She delighted us as she ministered to us in her poetry. I celebrate that.
But for me, the strength of her legacy was that nothing and no one could diminish that dignity.
The world is poorer for her loss.
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Life and living constitute a labyrinth of connectivities which, in our simplicity, we do not readily unravel. Thanks for pointing out the links.
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Winston, it is one of my worries that with all that teaching about slavery, indentureship and racism in Caribbean schools, we manage to reproduce intolerant and oppressive culture.
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