Black and Beautiful

Still I Rise
by Maya Angelou



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.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

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

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

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'll 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
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Black and Beautiful

Langston Hughes, the great African American writer, wrote in his essay “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain” about black poets who want to escape being labeled as black by subconsciously writing like white poets. Hughes views this problem of confused identity as a huge racial mountain that stands in the way of true African American expression. Hughes tells us that a middle class African American poet grows up hearing his parents telling him, “Don’t be like niggers. Look how well a white man does things.” Thus, he grows up silently wishing to be white because it is difficult to interpret the beauty of his own people. “He is never taught to see that beauty. He is taught rather not to see it, or if he does, to be ashamed of it when it is not according to Caucasian patterns,” Langston Hughes states. Moreover, Hughes emphasizes that an African American poet is granted acclaim and success as long as he writes poems that please the whites and picture them as a perfect race. The whites say to the African American artist, “Be stereotyped, don’t go too far, don’t shatter our illusions about you, don’t amuse us too seriously. We will pay you.”

“Why should I have to be white? I am Negro_ and beautiful!” To Langston Hughes these words best represent the authentic African American artist who is true to himself and his people. This statement brings us to Maya Angelou's poem "Still I Rise"which is a perfect example of that honesty and authenticity. In her poem she expresses her deep pride in her race, history, and black feminism. Despite all the twisted lies scripted in history, she as a black person will rise. She even thinks that the black “haughtiness” offends the whites who want to see the black race broken and weakened. “Does my haughtiness offend you? Don’t you take it awful hard ‘cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines diggin’ in my own back yard.” She is honored by her history that is rooted in slavery, abuse, and pain. “Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise. Up from a past that’s rooted in shame I rise.” The black race is as vast as an ocean vibrating with the richness of its heritage. It is rising above all the terror and fear that has haunted it. “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.”

Therefore, Maya Angelou is a wonderful representation of the African American poet who embraces her race and lets her art be a manifestation of the black folk experience. As Langston Hughes mentioned, she expresses herself without fear or shame. She does not care if her art upsets the white race because what she cares about most is being true to herself. Langston Hughes said on behalf the true black artists and himself, “We build our temples for tomorrow, strong as we know how, and we stand on top of the mountain, free within ourselves.” This is how that huge racial mountain is demolished.

Works Cited:

- Angelou,Maya. Still I Rise. 1978

-Hughes, Langston. The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain. Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 2010