I Know Why Maya Angelou Sings

My first introduction to Maya Angelou was her 1969 memoir I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I was a young teenage girl in Mrs. Simms English II class at Western High School in Baltimore, Maryland when I entered the world of this incredible woman - a world that began with pain and disadvantage.

Many of us know the statuesque she-ro - the acclaimed poet, author, Civil Rights activist, actor, singer, friend and co-laborer with Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr. That was Maya Angelou.

But she was also the little girl whose parents divorced when she was only 3-years-old. The young child who was then uprooted from her native St. Louis, Missouri and planted in small-town Stamp, Arkansas with her grandmother. The tender baby girl of eight who was raped by her mother's boyfriend and stripped of her innocence.

She was also the courageous young child who exposed this crime and her assailant, revealing it to her family. The little girl who refused to speak for six whole years, after hearing the news that her rapist had been killed.

Praise the Lord, she had the courage to speak again. I can't imagine if she'd remained silent for the rest of her life. If she'd refused to speak the words of life that will live on beyond her 86 years on earth.

Words like these found in the last stanza of "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings":

The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on a distant hill

for the caged bird

sings of freedom.

What can we learn from this amazing woman's life? What can we glean from her? What can we pray the Lord would develop in us as well?

Here's what I've learned as I've pondered the life of Dr. Maya Angelou. In courage, in faith, in love for God, myself and others, I must "rise" above life's challenges.

No one can deny that Maya emerged from humble beginnings. She was born with a bitter spoon in her mouth, and her childhood became increasingly difficult. Divorce, estrangement from her parents, rape - do not a happy childhood make.

And yet what did she ultimately do with her pain? She used her pain to bless others. After years of healing, she told her story. She nurtured her gifts and talents - acting and singing and writing and speaking - and shared them with the world.

And from that sharing, she gave us masterpieces like "Still I Rise". Here's a sampling from the last stanza:

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 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.

Because of her life, I am moved to rise above my trials as well. To allow God to do the arduous, long-term work of healing my soul. To emerge from that healing with a new voice. And to share that voice with the world.

Maya, you are no longer a caged bird.

You sang a song of love, affirmation and wisdom.

You sang a song of freedom.

I know why you sing.

You sing because you're free.

May we, too, sing of freedom.