I am an educated Black woman, and to some that’s a threat. My ancestors shed blood, sweat and tears for me to be able to exude such prestige, which essentially reflects the fact that I am a force to be reckoned with. Every since the days of slavery, constraining Blacks from an education was used as a method to quell slave rebellion, and that denial only intensified our urge to learn. Because of principals such as W.E.B DuBois and Booker T. Washington’s many sacrifices to continue the torch of wisdom—although they had conflicting philosophies regarding Black education—I have the possibility to be considered a candidate for a Master of Science degree in Strategic Communications from Troy University. For that I am thankful and forever indebted to those before me. In the midst of my uncertainty, I know one thing for sure… I can be denied everything I strive for, but the ability to learn is not one of them. With that notion, I would like to dedicate this opportunity, this degree and my overall literacy to those who paved the way for Blacks to attain a formal education and beat all odds that were devised for their omission. Education is one of our most powerful weapons, and with it we have the power to change the world!
Still I Rise.
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 suns and like moons,
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
Until next time, peace and blessings to you all.
S2 | Myra
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