Just Sayin'
Documentary salutes Angelou's rise
Published in The Dispatch on Wednesday, April 6, 2016
This week, Winston-Salem (and the whole world) celebrated the colorful life of Pulitzer Prize-winning author, actress, poet laureate, activist and storyteller Dr. Maya Angelou. Unto the world, in St. Louis, Missouri, Marguerite Annie Johnson was born April 4, 1928, with a profound story to tell.
I had the privilege of celebrating her legacy by prescreening the first feature documentary “Maya Angelou And Still I Rise” (2016), which will be shown at the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Arts during the annual RiverRun Film Festival in Winston-Salem on Monday and Tuesday. Directors Bob Hercules and Rita Coburn Whack (both of whom are rumored to make appearances at the festival) have provided a phenomenally honest tribute to the life, passion and legacy of the late Angelou. The documentary, described as “love letters” from around the world, stars Angelou, her son, Guy Johnson, Terry McMillan, Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Bill Clinton, Hillary Clinton, Cicely Tyson and a host of voices inspired by the beloved Maya.
Of course, Maya’s regal voice shined through with cameos intertwined in the adoration. She engaged in vivid descriptions of being sent away by her divorced parents to live in racially segregated Stamps, Arkansas. Her assent, part African fable and rags-to-riches, is moving. The biography is named for “And Still I Rise” from 1978, which became one of the most well-known repetitions in Clinton’s 1993 inaugural poem. Who would have imagined that at the height of her glory, she described being nervous when invited to write a poem for Bill Clinton’s first inauguration?
Watching Maya reflect on writings about love, butterflies and caged birds shed new insights for me. I’ve often questioned the myth that readers will ever fully know what a writer means. Truly inspired writing seems to blossom over time. I returned to highlighted sections of her writings and reread them in a different context. I even went back to previous columns about Angelou, one in particular titled "Columnist Reflects on Impact of Angelou," published shortly after her death June 11, 2014, that aren't quite true for me anymore.
“I only knew her through words," I wrote back then. "She used them to paint pictures of women growing upward despite dampening oppression. At times, she wrote as if she was scolding us because we ‘knew better’ as a country built on the backs of immigrants. She spoke with a wisdom so loud that it leapt off the pages. These are a few of the reasons why people across the world felt as if they knew and loved Maya.” The documentary added a layer of context to the pictures that are so vividly painted in her writings.
I had never before seen Angelou speak of the pain she suffered at the hands of her mother's boyfriend. When Angelou's uncles killed the man responsible, Maya, so traumatized by the experience, stopped talking. When I read that painful part of her story from “Caged Bird,” it infuriated me that something so valuable could be taken from the world (even if only for a brief time).
Her description gave insight on how, at age 7, she could overcome such an evil experience and find strength. She recognized that there was power in her words. She returned to Arkansas and spent years (that others have described as “virtual mute”) writing poetry. The documentary led me to re-read her description of those years of “listening” to learn how she exercised her power. I had never really focused on what Maya gained during that time of controlling her words. She got busy writing, reading and memorizing works of great American writers. Eventually Maya liberated her voice through poetry, explaining, "I had a lot to say!"
I have gained more of an appreciation (if that is possible) of "Caged Bird" from what I once described. “She spared no detail in her accounts, forcing those who spoke about her rise to also acknowledge her tribulations. She said, ‘We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.’ Those who followed her writings had the privilege of traveling alongside of her struggle to this glorious arrival as the statuesque woman we came to treasure.”
The world will always want more of Maya, and this documentary is a special gift at a time when courageous storytellers can hardly be heard above all of the "noise." I felt as if I lived the legacy through “Maya Angelou And Still I Rise.” The film reminded me that stories of suffering, struggle, strength and overcoming must be shared through the ages, lest we forget how to rise.
Antionette Kerr is a syndicated writer and author of “Just Sayin’: Conversations My Mother Would Never Let Me Have at a Southern Dinner Table.” You may email her at kerr@thewritefolks.com.
This week, Winston-Salem (and the whole world) celebrated the colorful life of Pulitzer Prize-winning author, actress, poet laureate, activist and storyteller Dr. Maya Angelou. Unto the world, in St. Louis, Missouri, Marguerite Annie Johnson was born April 4, 1928, with a profound story to tell.
I had the privilege of celebrating her legacy by prescreening the first feature documentary “Maya Angelou And Still I Rise” (2016), which will be shown at the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Arts during the annual RiverRun Film Festival in Winston-Salem on Monday and Tuesday. Directors Bob Hercules and Rita Coburn Whack (both of whom are rumored to make appearances at the festival) have provided a phenomenally honest tribute to the life, passion and legacy of the late Angelou. The documentary, described as “love letters” from around the world, stars Angelou, her son, Guy Johnson, Terry McMillan, Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Bill Clinton, Hillary Clinton, Cicely Tyson and a host of voices inspired by the beloved Maya.
Of course, Maya’s regal voice shined through with cameos intertwined in the adoration. She engaged in vivid descriptions of being sent away by her divorced parents to live in racially segregated Stamps, Arkansas. Her assent, part African fable and rags-to-riches, is moving. The biography is named for “And Still I Rise” from 1978, which became one of the most well-known repetitions in Clinton’s 1993 inaugural poem. Who would have imagined that at the height of her glory, she described being nervous when invited to write a poem for Bill Clinton’s first inauguration?
Watching Maya reflect on writings about love, butterflies and caged birds shed new insights for me. I’ve often questioned the myth that readers will ever fully know what a writer means. Truly inspired writing seems to blossom over time. I returned to highlighted sections of her writings and reread them in a different context. I even went back to previous columns about Angelou, one in particular titled "Columnist Reflects on Impact of Angelou," published shortly after her death June 11, 2014, that aren't quite true for me anymore.
“I only knew her through words," I wrote back then. "She used them to paint pictures of women growing upward despite dampening oppression. At times, she wrote as if she was scolding us because we ‘knew better’ as a country built on the backs of immigrants. She spoke with a wisdom so loud that it leapt off the pages. These are a few of the reasons why people across the world felt as if they knew and loved Maya.” The documentary added a layer of context to the pictures that are so vividly painted in her writings.
I had never before seen Angelou speak of the pain she suffered at the hands of her mother's boyfriend. When Angelou's uncles killed the man responsible, Maya, so traumatized by the experience, stopped talking. When I read that painful part of her story from “Caged Bird,” it infuriated me that something so valuable could be taken from the world (even if only for a brief time).
Her description gave insight on how, at age 7, she could overcome such an evil experience and find strength. She recognized that there was power in her words. She returned to Arkansas and spent years (that others have described as “virtual mute”) writing poetry. The documentary led me to re-read her description of those years of “listening” to learn how she exercised her power. I had never really focused on what Maya gained during that time of controlling her words. She got busy writing, reading and memorizing works of great American writers. Eventually Maya liberated her voice through poetry, explaining, "I had a lot to say!"
I have gained more of an appreciation (if that is possible) of "Caged Bird" from what I once described. “She spared no detail in her accounts, forcing those who spoke about her rise to also acknowledge her tribulations. She said, ‘We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.’ Those who followed her writings had the privilege of traveling alongside of her struggle to this glorious arrival as the statuesque woman we came to treasure.”
The world will always want more of Maya, and this documentary is a special gift at a time when courageous storytellers can hardly be heard above all of the "noise." I felt as if I lived the legacy through “Maya Angelou And Still I Rise.” The film reminded me that stories of suffering, struggle, strength and overcoming must be shared through the ages, lest we forget how to rise.
Antionette Kerr is a syndicated writer and author of “Just Sayin’: Conversations My Mother Would Never Let Me Have at a Southern Dinner Table.” You may email her at kerr@thewritefolks.com.
It has been described as “A reverent documentary love letter shows how her life has inspired countless people around the world.”
"Angelou: And Still I Rise” sponsored by Wake Forest University.
Where Angelou she served as the University’s first Reynolds Professor of American Studies in 1982.
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Screening Times: April 11 / 8 p.m. /SECCA
April 12 / 7:30 p.m. /SECCA
About RiverRun: “The Film Festival is a non-profit cultural organization dedicated to the role of cinema as a conduit of powerful ideas and diverse viewpoints. Founded in 1998, RiverRun is a competitive event that annually showcases new films from both established and emerging filmmakers around the world.”
Tickets for the 2016 Festival are on sale via www.riverrunfilm.com
More on Maya
Columnist reflects on impact of Angelou
(Read More "Just Sayin' " in http://www.the-dispatch.com/section/living)
Published: Wednesday, June 11, 2014 at 3:28 p.m.
Last Modified: Wednesday, June 11, 2014 at 3:28 p.m.
The New York Times headline read "Maya Angelou, Lyrical Witness of the Jim Crow South, Dies at 86." An onset of stories, memorials and epitaphs followed as the poet genuinely touched the hearts and minds of so many across the globe. The world exchanged touching Maya stories, and it seemed as if we all knew her.
That was her way.
She once wrote, "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."
I only knew her through words. She used them to paint pictures of women growing upward despite dampening oppression. At times, she wrote as if she was scolding us because we "knew better" as a country built on the backs of immigrants. She spoke with a wisdom so loud that it leapt off the pages. These are a few of the reasons why people across the world felt as if they knew and loved Maya.
To see our nation not only mourn but celebrate Angelou's ascent reminded me of the hymns she often sang. There will be trials, as the song leaders in church remind us, but Maya chose to rise. She bravely led readers through her journey as a dancer, calypso singer, streetcar conductor, teen mother, magazine editor, administrative assistant in Ghana, Wake Forest professor, actress and poet laureate.
She spared no detail in her accounts, forcing those who spoke about her rise to also acknowledge her tribulations. She said, "We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty." Those who followed her writings had the privilege of traveling alongside of her struggle to this glorious arrival as the statuesque woman we came to treasure.
But I must be honest. For as much as I personally admired the poet, I was surprised by the showering of praise shared by so many distinct types of people. Her words, influenced by Shakespeare's style, will continue to transcend generations and cultures. Her wisdom, poise and grace were honored by prominent people from presidents to dignitaries. Gov. Pat McCrory's orders for flags to be flown at half-staff Saturday affirmed why she proudly called North Carolina her home. We in the Old North State are thankful to have shared this tribute with the world.
As a youth, I selfishly thought Maya wrote for little girls who grew up just like me. In college, I was naive enough to think that one must comprehend the nuances of the African oral tradition to truly "get" Angelou. Often the poet spoke with coded words that referenced fables, African proverbs and mimicked the oration of Southern pastors. It wasn't until we dissected those references (yes, in the ever-controversial African-American studies department at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill) that I fully understood her meanings. But her stories about the human condition, courage and compassion are universal.
In 1969, she was brave enough to publish her autobiography, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings." There she highlights a brutal period in her childhood so tragic that she refused to speak about it. I recently listened to her interview with Fresh Air's Terry Gross in 1986. You could hear every breath of the great orator. She paused often as she described her temptation toward silence and how her words were almost lost if not for her love of poetry.
Angelou recounted those voiceless years, and her autobiography highlights why she withdrew into herself and was mute at age 11. It wasn't until a teacher noticed her love of poetry and challenged her to read it aloud that she broke her silence. She shared the story of Mrs. Flowers saying, "You do not love poetry, not until you speak it." Young Maya was afraid that someone would try to take away her friend poetry, and she recalled running under the house with books. "I tried to speak, and could." She testified in life, and now even in death, as to the power of words and courage.
In honoring her, I thought back to the ancestral West African culture and her response upon the passing of the late author, playwright and activist James Baldwin, whose poem was the inspiration for the title "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings." Angelou wrote a touching piece in his honor: "When a Great Tree Falls." West African cultures have many symbolic beliefs regarding trees, and these beliefs are woven throughout the culture. In fact, trees are often the gathering place for storytelling and funerals. So Angelou wrote:
"And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed."
So in the spirit of West African tradition, we paused to honor the falling of a great tree. We prayed that peace blooms where turmoil exists and that courage be our guide. We are thankful that the woman we came to know as Maya grew, but not in silence, and that her legacy of wisdom will continue to rise. We can be. For she existed. Asante sana!
Antionette Kerr is a freelance writer. You may email her atantionettekerr@alumni.unc.edu.
Vivid Sydney Festival is every photographer's dream and an event definitely not to be missed!
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