Search This Blog

18 April 2011

Maya Angelou's Letter to Me

Today I sat down and read Maya Angelou's Letter to My Daughter.
She wrote it to me. And you.
Here are the pieces I know she wrote for me:

I gave birth to one child, a son, but I have thousands of daughters. You are Black and White, Jewish and Muslim, Asian, Spanish-speaking, Native American and Aleut. You are fat and thin and pretty and plain, gay and straight, educated and unlettered, and I am speaking to you all. Here is my offering to you. 

We must call the ravening act of rape, the bloody, heart-stopping, breath-snatching, bone-crushing act of violence, which it is.

Each time my search for true love
leads me to the gates of hell
where Satan waits with open arms
I imagine...

I am a builder
Sometimes I have built well, but often
I have built without researching the ground
upon which I put my building
I raised a beautiful house
and I lived in it for a year
Then it slowly drifted away with the tides
for I had laid the foundation
upon shifting sand

Another time I erected a
mansion, the windows shining
like mirrors
and the walls were hung
with rich tapestry, but the earth shook with a
slight tremor, and the walls gave way, the floors opened
and my castle fell into pieces around my feet...

I have found that the platonic affection
in friendships and the familial

love for children can be relied upon
with certainty to lift the bruised soul
and repair the wounded spirit
and I am finished with
erotic romance.


No comments:

Post a Comment