Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Rising to an occasion

February is Black History Month. If, like me, you wonder how February was selected for this honor, you can check Wikipedia and learn that only the US and Canada honor the African diaspora in February. The UK, Netherlands, and the Republic of Ireland celebrate it in October.

still a February moon rises
still a February moon rises
Photo by J. Harrington

Today, the day on which a SOTUS will be delivered by a POTUS many consider to be a racist, seems a particularly appropriate time to remind ourselves that slavery has been an ignominious part of America's history; that not all immigrants have come here voluntarily; and that racism must be extinguished. Humans are all the same species. MPR News this "month is featuring black Minnesotans who are making history right now across the state."

still a February sun rises
still a February sun rises
Photo by J. Harrington

The current occupant of the West Wing of the White House may, in tonight's speech, continue to bemoan his perceived need for an expensive and stupid wall across the border our country shares with Mexico. Those of us with any humanity and common sense realize that what this country needs to see rise more than a wall are thousands, no, millions of Americans like Maya Angelou. People like her will always make us much safer than those who would build walls instead of longer tables.

Still I Rise



Maya Angelou19282014


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 backyard.

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
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.


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