A Gift from Maya Angelou
by Elouise
This morning I woke up with one of Maya Angelou’s poems on my mind. She wrote it for Bill Clinton’s presidential inauguration in 1993. She could have written it for today. It’s nearly 6 minutes long, well worth every second. There’s a link below to a printed version of the entire poem.
Why this poem? Because of the last lines. They grabbed my gut when I first heard them. Her words took me back just two years earlier. We were deep into planned conversations at the seminary where I was then on the faculty. In addition to Rodney King being on our minds, we’d had our own share of distressing racially charged incidents. Feelings were running high.
We were placed into small groups and given a set of questions to guide conversation. We met several times in mixed groups, with student, staff and faculty involvement throughout.
I’ll never forget a black student’s comments to me. I’d asked for examples of times when black students felt ignored, unwelcome or uncomfortable. At that time the seminary had at least 35% black African-American students. His response stunned me.
He said that when he passed me in the hallways I never looked him in the eye or greeted him. It didn’t matter where I was going or what I was doing. It didn’t matter that I’d never had him in a class. He felt unwelcome and unacknowledged as a human being.
He wasn’t angry. He felt offended, and put on guard. Not looking him in the eye, not even saying ‘Good Morning’ or ‘How’s it going today?’ was, for him, a signal that he didn’t count in my world. Or worse, I thought he wasn’t worth getting to know.
Such a ‘simple’ thing. It was hard for me to hear, yet right on the money. I agreed to try this out for several days. Not just with him, but with other students as well.
The first few days were tough. I discovered I was especially reluctant to greet male students of any color. A sign of fear, especially around black men, and fear of sending mixed messages or worse. At the same time, it was a lesson I’ve never forgotten.
Here’s the very last stanza of Maya Angelou’s poem, “On the Pulse of Morning.” You can see why it caught my heart.
Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister’s eyes, into
Your brother’s face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 24 August 2017
Video of live reading found on YouTube
what a beautiful lesson you’ve shared here E ❤ thank you for the reminder ❤ peace and love my friend, K
LikeLiked by 2 people
You’re so welcome, Kim! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
You always inspire me, the way you write to teach, to inspire….you are w gift to my life E💜💕☮
LikeLiked by 1 person
Awww…now I’m a little teary.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I get that way reading you too…I connect with you and what you write in ways I wish could come from, shall we say, a closer source? I appreciate that, teachings from a source from higher than where I’m at but where I hope to be💜💕🙏🏻 a little sensitive these days, lots going on but hanging on and inspired by your words💜💕needing it truly🙏🏻🕉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. We must learn to look up and OUT of our own stuff, into the eyes of our sisters and brothers..very simply. Listen to them, with hope…because only then will we be healed – in RELATIONSHIP – learning the songs the Creator gave them to sing. “Plant yourself beside me”….thank you, Elouise…thank you, Maya.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome, Nancy. You’re correct. In the end, it’s simple–and a huge step for all of us. God grant us courage to change the things we can. One relationship at a time.
LikeLike
It’s interesting that the student gave no thought to your own vulnerabilities, to the reasons why you might find looking any guy in the face a difficulty. He took it personally, but perhaps his was a lopsided view of the situation. After all, you are a friendly person, not deliberately offensive – far from it.
I know there are situations in which guys do not expect me to look at them, and are a tad surprised that I not only glance, I have the temerity to smile at them! So it works both ways, and there are elements of discrimination on both sides. Women are taught to submit, after all, and I’m sure that masculine notions of what is ‘appropriate’ and ‘feminine’ or ‘becoming’ rub off on all of us girls.
Thanks for another interesting post! 🙂 xxxxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome, Fran! A lot of what you say makes sense. In this setting, however, I was more powerful than he. Not just because of the color of my skin, but because I was a tenured professor who might one day see him in a course. The point of this community exercise was to hear how the Rodney King incident and aftermath was affecting our black students, and what it was like for them being in a majority white seminary. Listening was number one. And, given what we heard in our group, this was all very personal to students and staff who were clearly the minority–though a substantial and growing minority as it turned out.
You’re correct–my not looking this student in the eye and greeting him as we passed him in the hall or in the café wasn’t because I was unfriendly. So it raised an issue for me–my hesitation and fear of looking men in the eyes or saying anything at all to strangers. Especially when they happened to be men. A big issue for me in my healing over the years, which at that point had just barely begun.
Thanks for your comment! Lots to think about.
Elouise 🙂 xxxxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
How brave of that student to tell you that. And brave of you to change ❤
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Christy. It takes my breath away when I think about the courage it took for him to respond truthfully to my question. Not simply in general, but with reference to me personally. A huge risk, all things considered from his point of view. And I’ll admit that changing my ways took more backbone than I thought it would! But it paid off so much. Not just for him, but for me. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
That poem could not be more relevant in our world today. That must have been hard to hear, but the blessing was that you heard. You listened and you heard.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi, Beth. Thank you for this. Yes, it was painful to hear that in the moment. He described a ‘me’ I didn’t know. Which ended up as you say–being a blessing. A tough one!
LikeLike
I am halfway in the Caged Bird right now. No words, really, for the way millions across the world have been oppressed, reduced, cut off, despised as Other.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So true. I haven’t yet read Caged Bird. It’s time to pick it up and start reading. Thanks for the comment.
LikeLike
Yes it was brave of you both as Christy B says. One experience I had. I was visiting friends in Egypt 20 years ago. My hostess would get us [I was with another friend] a taxi and tell him where we wanted to go. I could catch a taxi back as I knew the name of the suburb and how to say left and right. BUT she said to me -“Don’t eyeball or talk to the taxi driver, it’s not done!” Oops – sorry about that but I did talk and he obviously enjoyed talking in halting English. I am so glad I did NOT take my friends advice. A good lesson.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Robin. What a wonderful memory! So often people are hungry for this kind of daily interaction. The kind that means they aren’t nonpersons! I like your Gravatar image–and am glad to have confirmed that ethrobin is indeed You! Africa is in your blood. 🙂
LikeLike
She was phenomenal.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. A wise and fearless woman.
LikeLiked by 1 person