As I sit here writing this post, I realize how very sad I am today. One of my spiritual heroes has died. I'm feeling a little shock and a lot of grief, and as a writer, this is the only way I know how to express it.
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Maya Angelou broke my heart when I was 8 years old. I was an advanced reader for my age, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that I devoured books that were well above my maturity level. Nor will it come as any shock that I found "I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings" at the library and checked it out.
If you have read the book, you know why she broke my heart, and why I attribute my lack of prejudice, in a world and family filled with it, to her. Through that book, she became my friend, and while she was old enough to have been my mother, in my mind and heart, we were the same. We were connected in a way that I could never express in words. I had felt her pain, her heartache, her rebellion, and her victory. We were one.
As I grew up, Maya's spotlight on the world stage was a triumph of my very close friend who had been through so much in her life. Watching her read her poem at Clinton's inauguration in 1993; seeing her do it again for President Obama's ... she broke my heart again with pride and joy.
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When she received The Presidential Medal of Freedom, my heart broke once more with delight and satisfaction in that recognition she received. She had done so much for so many, and this was more than well-deserved. My young friend who had been hurt so badly as a child was now healed and had healed so many more.
Her works have always given me inspiration, and watching her in any interview felt like going home.
Most of all, I have watched her influence on the young men and women who have come in and out of my life. In the fall of this past year, I took a college course on American Women Writers. Each student was asked to choose a poem from an American woman writer and read it out loud.
One of my fellow students who had adopted me as her "English mom" chose to read "Still, I Rise". Britney was always second-guessing herself in class. She'd show up early, run to me and ask me to compare notes on her assessment of a reading. She wasn't always spot-on, but she grew each week a little more until her turn to stand up and share her chosen piece.
This beautiful young black woman began to recite the poem with timidity, and I saw Maya's spirit rise up within her and fill her with courage. By the end of the poem, she had found a rhythm and a chant and was almost shouting the words, "I RISE". There was not a dry eye in that classroom, and she received a standing ovation.
This beautiful young black woman began to recite the poem with timidity, and I saw Maya's spirit rise up within her and fill her with courage. By the end of the poem, she had found a rhythm and a chant and was almost shouting the words, "I RISE". There was not a dry eye in that classroom, and she received a standing ovation.
I thought, "Yes, Maya. You did it again."
Maya broke my heart again that day, but this time with joy and pride for that young woman who felt her own worth through those words, and who would be changed from that moment on. Britney came to our next class, and every one after that, with a spark in her step, her shyness had dissolved, and she exuded confidence in everything she did. Britney had risen and taken her place as another Phenomenal Woman in the world.
Maya broke my heart again this morning with her passing on to whatever comes after we leave this plane of existence. She left a legacy behind that will be immortalized through her words and work and the imprint that her spirit left behind on each one of us, and for all who read and watch and get their hearts broken by her in the future. I will miss my beautiful friend whom I never met in person. And, a little piece of my heart will remain broken by the loss of her here in this realm. Great spirits like hers will never die. Still, she will rise, and continue to break hearts wherever she may go.