Still I Rise

Womens’ struggle whether in India or America or Africa is universal. The struggle for self determination is a life long one. And no right was given to her without a hard struggle- whether it was a right to education, right to work ,right to get equal pay, right to vote and right to hold public office.

Her achievements, inspite of the many hurdles placed in her way by past and present traditions call for a celebration. This International Womens’ Day the theme is “Planet 50-50 by 2030 : Step it up for Gender Equality.”

Can we be complacent with these achievements? Everyday only reminds us of the continuous fight for rights, inside and outside chauvinistic homes/fields/factories/offices/communities.

Are there role models who inspire us in these struggles? So many……history tells us about Joan of Arc, Jhansi Lakshmi Bai, Kittur Rani Chennamma of the past to the present Jyothi Singh of Delhi and Soni Sori who refuse to be bowed down by inhuman brutality.

The phoenix rising from the ashes will continue to soar and achieve greater heights of humanity.

Still we rise……..

Still I Rise – a poem by Maya Angelou Maya Angelou(1928 to 2014)- an American author and poet who has been called “America’s most visible black female autobiographer” by scholar Joanne M. Braxton

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread 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 back yard.

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 and 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.