{ Original Work by Jenica Frederickson }
The year was 1993. In Winston Salem, NC the auditorium was dark. The stage was lit. Theatre class was always dramatic, but this day’s performances were life changing. Taking her space in the spot light, my classmate stood strong and confident, barefoot in gray dress slacks and a black top. Her mother worked for a woman who was a poet at our local university. Her performance would be a piece she had learned from her mother’s employer. The words began to tumble into a melodic rhythm sweeping my soul up into it’s poetry.
“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 rise
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset in gloom?
‘Cause I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room?
Just like moons and like suns,
With certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like tear drops,
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
Diggins 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 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.
Bringing the gifts my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise I rise I rise” -Maya Angelou
There in the auditorium I was transfixed by the power of the spoken word on stage. The power to change the paradigm of the universe was there, contained within a spotlight. Her words reached out of her mouth and into my chest , searing my heart with a single vibration: Acceptance.
This was the anthem, not of the downtrodden, it was the song of the strong. It was an ode not to surviving, but to thriving. It was a sermon of hope, love, and self-confidence wrapped within the confines of poetic measure. It was magic, pure and simple. A month later, at Clinton’s inaugural speech, Maya Angelou was asked to recite her poem On the pulse of the Morning. Words resonated throughout our nation as our attention was held by the soulful voice of unapologetic experience.
Self-acceptance is power. It is powerful enough to change everything about your life and those around you. Such comfort comes from authenticity: the ability to stand confidently in your own skin, with your head held high, solidly grounded in the NOW – it is an inspiration. If we, the people want to make an impact with far reaching impression s on the future, then surely it must be done through example. We, the people must stand united in full acceptance of ourselves and those around us. It is time to be authentic and speak from the heart. It is time to rise.
