Maya Angelou

U.S. politics has been a source of interest – even fascination – from the time the Iran-Contra hearings flooded the airwaves and rudely interrupted the afternoon soap operas my sister and I watched during summer vacation.

The year was 1987. I was 12 years old and Oliver North boldly replaced Mac, Rachel, Felicia and Cass. Another World be damned! From there on out it would be politics all the time! Well maybe not QUITE from that exact moment but that’s where it all started.

So... What does this have to do with Maya Angelou?

That smile!

It was on a cold January day in 1993 that I first came to hear the words of poetess, activist and phenomenal woman, Maya Angelou. She had been commissioned to write a poem for the (first) inauguration of President Bill Clinton, inauguration that I watched with intent and interest. She delivered the poem to the assembled masses in her deep and emphatic voice, a voice I had never heard before.

Honestly, at first the inaugural poem made no sense to me. I wish I could say it had magically transported me into the world of poetry and hidden meanings. Or that I felt an instant connection to this smart, strong, successful woman. Or that I’d been inspired to write a poem of my own. None of that happened.

But, as a fan of U.S. politics and of the written word, I became curious as to how and why those two entities intersected on that fateful day. This curiosity led me straight to seeking out the works of Dr. Angelou.

Within a week I had read the first four books of her autobiography series. To this day, the story that sticks out in my mind is the one where she became the first woman – black woman at that – cable car conductor in San Francisco when she was a teenager. This would’ve been in the early 1940s. Imagine that!

From the stories she shared, she struck me as a woman who lived life her way, with all the good and bad that it entailed. She failed, succeeded, failed, and succeeded again. She seemed to not only grab life by the proverbial cojones, but to inhale it. Of course I don’t know that for a fact. That's just how it seems to me.

Her stories moved me, producing laughter, tears and more laughter. She left behind an impressive body of work and enough nuggets of wisdom to adorn the walls of a mansion. There is one particular quote that continues to inspire me and for which I am especially grateful:

“Do the best you can until you know better. When you know better, do better.”