62 AMERICANWAY
NOVEMBER 15 2008
of hardships but never allowed herself to
gripe. Shewouldusebellyaching customers
as examples forher grandchildren.
“She’d say, ‘There are people all over
the world, black and white, rich and poor,
who went to sleep when that person went
to sleep, and they have never awakened.
… They would give anything for five min-
utes of what that person was complaining
about,’” Angelou recalls. “She said that to
me somuch.” And her grandmother’smes-
sage has stuck with her to this day. “You
have to knowme very, verywell tohearme
complain,” she says. “I’ll protest like the
dickens, but Idon’t complain.”
Schoolwasanotherbright spot for young
Angelou. She credits one of her teachers,
Bertha Flowers, with breaking her six-
year silence by encouraging her to read the
works of classic writers aloud. It was then
that, as Angelou once wrote, she “met and
fell in lovewithWilliamShakespeare.”
The rest of Angelou’s upbringing— that
which occurred outside of school or the se-
curityofHenderson’s shop— left averydif-
ferent kind of indelible impression on her.
WhenAngelouwas 13, shemovedyet again
— this time, to San Francisco, where her
mother had relocated. Two years later, she
went to livewith her father, where she had
a violent run-inwithher father’s girlfriend.
Angelou then turned to the streets andwas
homeless forasummer.Shebecameasingle
mother at theageof 17,when shegavebirth
toheronlychild, asonnamedGuy—whom
she considersherbiggest blessingof all.
Despite her troubles, Angelou finished
high school. She took jobsasacalypso sing-
er and an exotic dancer in order to make
endsmeet and provide for her son. Always
a lover of the stage, she got the chance to
join a touring production of the George
Gershwin opera
Porgy and Bess
in 1954.
When the show traveled toEurope, shewas
forced to leave her then-eight-year-old son
with her mother. Several months passed,
and Angelou was so consumed with guilt
over abandoning her son that she left the
productionearlyand returnedhome.That’s
when she sufferedabreakdown.
She visited a psychiatrist, whom she de-
scribes as a “young whiteman in a Brooks
Brothers suit, a button-down shirt, and a
tie.”She felt shecouldn’t relate to thedoctor
and left, distraught. “I looked at him and
thought, How could I explain to you what
it’s like tobe ablackwomanwitha son—a
black boy— trying to raise him in a racist
country?”
Luckily, her vocal coach, FredWilkerson,
was there to catchher at another teachable
moment and remind her of a lesson her
grandmother had taught her years before.
WhenAngelou showed up at his doorstep,
angry and overwhelmed, he simply handed
her apadof paper andapen.He instructed
her to write down all the blessings in her
life. Though she resisted at first, she real-
ized after finishing a page of notes that she
had much more to be thankful for than
she’doriginallyacknowledged.
“In themidst of hard times, you have to
say, ‘I know this will not last forever.’ No
matter how bad it gets, I’m always grateful
to know that I don’t have to stay with the
negative. Idon’thave tocontinue in this cli-
mate of cynicism. Imay not see the light at
the end of the tunnel, but I know there is
one,”Angelou says.
Eventually, she reached the end of the
long, twisting tunnel, but not before col-
lecting enough life experiences to fill a half
dozen memoirs. She became a passionate
civil rights activist and worked for — and
befriended— bothMartin Luther King Jr.
andMalcolmX. Shedid stints as a journal-
ist and a teacher overseas, spending time
inGhana andEgypt. She studiedfilmmak-
ing in Sweden and later became the first
African-Americanwoman tohave a screen-
play produced (1972’s
Georgia, Georgia
).
And she fell in and out of love withmany
men as she went, even marrying a few of
them. Just how many times she’s walked
down theaisle, though, isoneof thosenum-
bers sheprefersnot to count.
Angelou has a multitude of other ac-
complishments that she’s too humble to
enumerate: She’s won three spoken-word
Grammys and aNational BookAward and
has been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize,
an Emmy, and a Tony. She’s written songs
for musicians such as B.B. King and Clint
Black, and she recited an original poem,
“On thePulseofMorning,” atPresidentBill
Clinton’s inauguration in 1993. She is flu-
ent in six languages, has earnedmore than
50 honorary degrees, and was granted the
first lifetime Reynolds Professorship of
American Studies at Wake Forest Univer-
sity inWinston-Salem.Theprofessorship is
anhonor sheholds particularlydear, as she
considers herself first and foremost not a
poet, anauthor, oraplaywrightbuta teach-
er. This calling goes back to yet another of
her grandmother’s lessons: “When you get,
give,”Henderson instructedher. “Whenyou
learn, teach.”
There’salsoAngelou’sconsiderable featof
writing those 30 books, whichhave earned
her a legion of fans. Today, in addition to
hosting a weekly radio show on Sirius XM
Satellite Radio’s Oprah& Friends channel,
the octogenarian is hard at work on her
next two books, one of which is a counter-
part to
Letter toMy Daughter
that will be
titled
Letter toMySon
.
Thismonth, however, she’ll put herwork
aside as she celebrates Thanksgiving with
the blessings in her life. Her excitement is
obvious as she describes the traditions of
their yearly gatherings. Wednesday night,
the group congregates at her friend’s home
for cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. Thursday,
"Nomatter how bad it gets,
I’m always gratefulto
knowthat I don’t haveto
staywiththe negative."
