So I got some sad news today that I’m sure you’ve already found out by now.
Maya Angelou passed away at 86 years old today.
She was a writer.
She was a poet.
She was a Civil Rights Activist.
She was a woman who, despite everything and everyone that conspired against her, became a success in every sense of the word.
Most of all, and I have no doubt about this, she was an amazing person.
As I’m writing this, there are tears in my eyes.
I’ve never met her. I always hoped that I would get the chance.
Even still, I feel as though she’s a part of me.
Let me explain.
I myself began writing at nine years of age. At that time, I never saw it as a way to earn a living for the rest of my list.
Mainly, it had been a hobby after homework and my real loves:
bike riding and football.
It wasn’t until my teen years when the life I knew took a drastic and vicious hit and shattered everything I believed about people and life as a whole. As a result, I engaged in some extremely self-destructive behaviors, largely due to the fact that I did very little talking to others and wrote next to nothing.
So I held everything in.
Until one day, I happened to be in the library and I picked up “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings.”
I had read it before for school assignments, but, at that moment, it had new meaning for me.
The next thing I knew, everything changed.
I was recharged.
I got help.
My pen was moving.
And it hasn’t stopped since.
So here’s to Dr. Angelou and a life well done. (1928-2014)