I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

cage bird“The fact that the adult American Negro female emerges a formidable character is often met with amazement, distaste and even belligerence. It is seldom accepted as an inevitable outcome of the struggle won by survivors and deserves respect if not enthusiastic acceptance.”

This book is about several things. It is the autobiography of Maya Angelou’s first 16 years of life. It is also the story of strong black women as evidenced by the quote above which is towards the end of the book. It is about the black experience growing up in a racially divided world. It is about folks making it the best they can under those conditions. And under all this is the story of surviving sexual abuse.

The first strong woman we encounter is Momma, her father’s mother who lives in Stamps, Arkansas. Stamps is in the southwest corner of Arkansas, a poor region in one of the poorest states in the Union. Momma ran “the only Negro general merchandise store since the turn of the century” in that part of Arkansas. And Momma did reasonable well for herself.   She is in a financial position where she has white renters, and at times loaned money to white people. She is also old school religious. After her son and Maya’s mother split the blanket, Maya and her brother are unceremoniously placed with their grandmother. Continue reading “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou”

Fun In The Golden State

Robin and I recently took a trip to the west coast to visit my daughter and her family who live in Salem, Oregon.  Before we went there we did a little sightseeing in San icecreamtruckFrancisco and Sacramento.   We had a wonderful time, both sightseeing and visiting.  There were a couple out of the ordinary encounters that occurred.

San Francisco like most large cities has a lot of homeless folks.  Two individuals stand out in my memory although I do not believe the second to have been homeless.  The first was a very dirty white man of indeterminate age.  His clothes were dirtier than his body and they seemed to be disintegrating on him as he approached.  He reminded me of an actor I once saw at Medieval Fair playing the part of the village mad man.  This fellow in San Francisco was screaming at the top of his lungs in language I assume was English, but it was not very intelligible.  He was also gesticulating wildly.   He alarmed me somewhat, and I moved myself and Robin aside.

The second individual was a black man around 40 years of age.  He was dressed in a nice suit sans tie.  Continue reading “Fun In The Golden State”