“I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” Maya Angelou “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings”

Early Life Maya Angelou was born in St. Louis, Missouri in 1928 Her birth name was Marguerite Johnson, though she used the name “Maya Angelou” for her writings. Maya later moved to Arkansas to live with her grandmother. Her town was completely segregated, meaning that white people and black people had very little interaction.

Early Life At the age of 8, Maya Angelou was raped by her mother’s boyfriend. Because of this, she became “mute” (meaning she did not speak) for the next five years. At age 16, she had a son with a boy from her neighborhood. He was her only child.

Career Maya Angelou spent several years living and working in Africa. She was a news editor in Cairo, Egypt and also taught at the University of Ghana Maya Angelou was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for her poetry, an Emmy award for her television acting, and was also chosen by President Jimmy Carter to serve on the National Commission of the Observance of International Women’s Year She is considered one of the most important and influential American writers and poets of the late 20th century

“I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” In 1969, Maya Angelou published her autobiography, “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” The book is meant to tell about her life but also to be a piece of literature that reads like a story. The book has been reprinted more than 52 times and is considered a classic work of African American literature.

Death Maya Angelou died on May 28, 2014 at the age of 86 She received public tributes from President Barack Obama, former president Bill Clinton, and countless other public figures.

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

“A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.”

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… Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise… 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 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.

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… You can shoot me with your words, You can cut me with your lies, You can kill me with your hatefulness,, But just like life, I'll rise… Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past rooted in pain I rise A black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling bearing in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak miraculously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the hope and the dream of the slave. And so There I go.