Thursday, April 2, 2009

For Women Everywhere




Mangi devi is the woman in the photo. She was punished for years for something not in her hands, endless miscarriages. But with support from friends, in particular Aruna Roy and everyone at the Barefoot College, she fought for her rights over her own body and as a woman and has now been working with Barefoot for the past 20 years. She didn't abandon her family, but worked and fought with them to win their support. Mangi devi currently advocates for human rights and trains other men and women as night school teachers, while continuing her work in the fields and at home. On top of it all, she inspires women like myself. 

This poem represents all the women I've met so far who have struggled against their husbands, their family, their cultures, and the world to prove that they are human. It inspires me and I hope it inspires you. 

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've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own backyard.

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 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 that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise. 

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