Maya Angelou: A Phenomenal Woman with a Caribbean Connection · Global Voices
Dr. <PERSON>, speaking at The Carolina Theater, Greensboro, North Carolina, September, 2008. Image by <PERSON>, used under a CC license.
<PERSON> has been noticeably written and tweeted about since her death on May 28. Her passing resonates quite deeply in the Caribbean – and not only because of the potency of her words – the author also had West Indian roots (her maternal grandfather was Trinidadian). Regional bloggers have been processing their grief over the loss by sharing what her life and writing meant to them.
In honour of <PERSON>'s Caribbean connections, Repeating Islands republished a post which originally appeared in Slate magazine, detailing the author's stint as a singer, when she recorded her first and only album, entitled Miss Calypso.
Some bloggers were not even aware of <PERSON>'s West Indian ancestry until her death. What's the idea? said as much in her post, The dream and hope of the slave:
<PERSON> 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.
<PERSON>, the blogger, went on to quote excerpts of the poem, saying:
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. 117
Can we not remember that slavery was also justified in the name of religion?
On Facebook, <PERSON> echoed the same sentiment, referring to a statement the author had made five years ago:
‘To love someone takes a lot of courage,’ she said. ‘So how much more is one challenged when the love is of the same sex and the laws say, “I forbid you from loving this person?”‘
–<PERSON>, interviewed by the New York Times, May 2009
Since everybody with a pulse is rushing to memorialise <PERSON> today, and with the <PERSON> affair still weighing heavy on my mind, it seems a good moment to recall her thoughts on a question of justice the Caribbean is struggling with.
What's the idea? also viewed <PERSON>'s advice as incredibly relevant when it comes to the global issue of violence against women and girls:
In her Ode to the UN, <PERSON> ends with these words:
When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear
When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.
Some netizens, especially on Twitter and Facebook, reposted quotes by <PERSON> that resonated with them. Trinidadian blogger <PERSON> bade <PERSON> a simple farewell:
Thank you for sharing your mind and emotions and the spirit and the power with us <PERSON>. So many women drew energy from you…
<PERSON>, a US-born writer with Dominican roots, recounted the one occasion she literally ran into <PERSON>:
Once, when I was about 19 or 20, I darted past Bloomingdale’s in New York, running late to something—I forget—and literally ran into a large, imposing figure walking out of the shop as I sprinted by. I felt as if I had ran into a brick wall. As I stood there in a daze, rubbing my nose, I heard this majestic voice say every-so-slowly, ‘Child, slow down. Where on earth could be more important than being with your self right now?’ My knees started to wobble when I realized this person was <PERSON>. She glided off, in that regal way of hers, before I could fix my lips to apologize. 820