You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod 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
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
Maya Angelou spoke for many black women throughout history. She speaks for black women today.
At times, it is very hard to be a black woman. There are many obstacles that may block a black woman from progressing and leading a successful life. Some would say that the thickness of our hair, the fullness of our lips, the curves of our hips, the strength within our voice; our ability to have a choice makes others feel weak.
There are many, many sad things going on in the world today. Babies are dying and people are fighting. Egypt is in crisis. Black men are hating on Black women. The saddest thing to see is when a black woman must watch her back because all of the black men in her life wants to hurt her. They want to destroy her visions, her dreams, her happiness. A black woman today, doesn’t have to fear the white race – she must watch out for the black brothers who hate her because she is educated, strong, and independent; and because she is in love with a white man. They, brothers, are mad, because this white man is everything that they hope to be and will never be. The highest these brothers will ever get will not even come close to the lowest level this white man have seen. So they plot, connive, and scheme to destroy the Black woman and her loving White man.
But like Maya Angelou, I too, still shall rise.
Where do I get my strength?? By knowing, good will always out-beat evil in the end. It may not be today. It may not be tomorrow. It may not even be next year. In the end, however, God wins. My strength comes from the Lord. Like the strong black women before me, and the strong black women who will come after me, we are rooted and grounded in the love of the Lord.
Black women don’t have attitudes….. They have the will to survive.
To survive the prejudices of our weak-willed, weak-minded Black brothers.
Peace my brothers……. big dicks – but small minds…. empty pockets….black hearts—–angry—-angry— angry lives…..