The death of a legend: Maya Angelou

The death of Maya Angelou has left me grieving. We lost a great, inspiring, remarkable woman. No one can replace her spirit, her tenacity or the monumental inspiration she gave to rest of the world. 

When I was kid, I had a poster of “Still I rise” on the back of my bedroom door. I memorized it. Every time I read that poem, I was filled with overwhelming power. At the time, I didn’t understand why. I just knew the poem moved me and I was awed. I aspired to be the person in the poem- the person who rose to power through all her pain. I had read about Maya Angelou’s life. I had seen her on t.v and I remember having such admiration for her. How could she go through all that and still be so strong, so loving, so giving and forthcoming? Most of us would hide in a shell or act out, but she put all of her experiences into beautifully written poems of which no others could compare. 

As I read “Still I rise” again today, I feel an overwhelming sense of loss. Not just the loss of a great woman and writer, but the loss of the person I used to be when I read her poems. I wanted to be the “phenomenal woman”. I wanted to be “the dream and hope of the slave”. Most of all I wanted to be able to express all of the chaos in my head as eloquently as her. I realize not of us are given that gift. It takes raw talent, skill and sacrifice.

We spend so much time being adults with responsibilities that we forget to enjoy the little things, the little miracles. We forget to be inspirations. We forget ourselves. As Maya said: “nothing will work unless you do.”

 If you want to be an inspiration. If you want to be more than the person you are now, you have to work for it. Sitting around and hoping for things to come to you or making excuses as to why you can’t do something will get you nowhere. You have to take chances.

Dr. Angelou took those chances. She held her heart out for the world to see. She shared the deepest parts of herself with a world of strangers. She took a leap and worked hard despite the odds against her becoming a renowned author, motivational speaker and mentor.

 She didn’t allow herself to be a stereotype. She didn’t allow herself to be less than what she could be. She inspired so many, not only with her words, but with her spirit- her alluring spirit that entranced readers, transformed minds, and stilled hearts. 

So with her death, I mourn for the loss of a beautiful mind and spirit. I mourn for the girl I used to be. For the adult that forgot about her. I mourn for the future generations that would never get to hear her speak wonders.  I only wish I could have met her to look into the eyes of woman who has been through so much, yet given and extraordinary gift to relate her life, her experiences and her mind to the rest of the world.

Her legacy will live on and I hope she continues to inspire young girls and adults alike to be better. To simply be better. 

Here is the first poem I read by Maya Angelou that gave me so much stregnth and hope. I hope it gives you an inkling of what it gave me.

Still I rise by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

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?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.