How we survived
I just finished reading the 6th and final volume of Maya Angelou's autobiography "A Song Flung Up To Heaven" (which I highly recommend, she has lead such an amazing life) and towards the end this passage caught me and has yet to loosen it's grasp. It's a conversation between her and James Baldwin after Martin Luther King was murdered.
Jimmy said, "We survived slavery. Think about that. Not because we were strong. The American Indians were strong, and they were on their own land. But they have not survived genocide. You know how we survived?"
I said nothing.
"We put surviving into our poems and into our songs. We put it into our folk tales. We danced surviving in Congo Square in New Orleans and put it in our pots when we cooked pinto beans. We wore surviving on our backs when we clothed ourselves in the colors of the rainbow. We were pulled down so low we could hardly lift out eyes, so we knew, if we wanted to survive, we had better lift our own spirits. So we laughed whenever we got the chance."
"Now how does your spirit feel?"
I said, "Just fine, thank you."
Jimmy said, "We survived slavery. Think about that. Not because we were strong. The American Indians were strong, and they were on their own land. But they have not survived genocide. You know how we survived?"
I said nothing.
"We put surviving into our poems and into our songs. We put it into our folk tales. We danced surviving in Congo Square in New Orleans and put it in our pots when we cooked pinto beans. We wore surviving on our backs when we clothed ourselves in the colors of the rainbow. We were pulled down so low we could hardly lift out eyes, so we knew, if we wanted to survive, we had better lift our own spirits. So we laughed whenever we got the chance."
"Now how does your spirit feel?"
I said, "Just fine, thank you."
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