A World of Her Own Making
(The Story of Maya Angelou)
by Amanda M. Bryson
Links by Heidi Jo Dean
“Acka Back, Sody Cracka; Acka Backa, Boo; Acka Back, Sody Cracka, I’m in love with you.” The silly child’s rhyme rang through my ears as I found my way into a green pasture, far away from where I didn’t think I belonged and closer to where I wanted to be. That is the first time I ever met Maya. I’m Louise and Maya was probably my best friend in the whole world at the age of ten. The annual fish fry in our small town of Stamps, Arkansas was an event nearly as big as Christmas. Maya and I both found more pleasure from trying to make images from the cumulus clouds passing overheador trying to figure out if Mrs. Woods and Miss Harris were fighting because for one year Miss Harris’ barbecue ribs won first place instead of Mrs. Woods. Maya always seemed to enjoy the complexities of life more than the trivial games that our peers played.
Bailey, Maya’s older brother, was Maya’s best friend. She would rattle off stories or elegant poems that she and Bailey had memorized by some of their favorite authors such as William Shakespeare, Kipling, Poe, Butler, Thackeray, Henley, Paul Lawrence Dunbar, Langston Hughes, James Weldon Johnson, and W.E.B. Du Bois. Reading was Maya’s first love. Bailey was her second.
Maya came to Stamps when she was three and Bailey was four. They came on a train from California to live with her daddy’s mother (Momma). Her parents had gotten a divorce and her father had sent her and Bailey all the way to Stamps via trains the whole way. Every train on the southern part of the trip she and Bailey sat in the back of the train with the rest of the blacks. Back in the 1920's segregation was the norm. People were judged for the color of their skin not for the quality of their soul. When Maya came to Stamps I think she was a little shocked at the distinct differences that were set between the blacks and the whites.
In Stamps we were our own community. Momma’s store was named the William Johnson General Merchandise Store, but nobody called it that. The store provided much food and many supplies for the tiny community of blacks. We didn’t dare go into the surrounding white community unless we had to. Once when Maya had a toothache, sullen and very unimpressed with the idea of going less than a mile into the unwelcome atmosphere, Maya’s physical pain and the strong arm of Momma forced her into the presence of a local white doctor. Maya’s raging teeth and sensitive gums reminded her of all of the chocolate bars and delicious treats she had taken from the store and she regretted every bite she had taken. Maya had a rotten tooth.
Momma could normally sooth a toothache with some crushed aspirin or oil of cloves. This time it was more serious, though. The nearest dentist was 25 miles away in Texarkana. Momma had Maya put on clean undergarments and fresh clothes for their trip to Dr. Johnson’s office just in town. Maya thought surely she would die before they reached Dr. Johnson’s office. Momma said that Dr. Johnson owed her a favor, so he would likely fix Maya right up. Walking from the safe haven of inner Stamps out into the white community was nerve racking. Just that experience seemed to help Maya stand up a little straighter and walk a bit faster. Upon arrival to Dr. Johnson's office, Momma and Maya went around to the side where the servants entered. There Momma knocked on the door and gave her name to a nurse. Over an hour later Dr. Johnson came to the door and asked Momma what she needed. Refusing, wholeheartedly, to treat a black, even after Momma had loaned Dr. Johnson some money (already repaid), he said he was sorry twice over and shut the door on them both, without looking once at Maya. Momma told Maya to wait around the building for her. There Maya dreamt of the tongue lashing Momma was likely giving to Dr. Johnson. Momma returned 15 minutes later taking Maya by the hand and heading for the Greyhound bus station. Momma and Maya made the 25 mile trip, uneventfully, to Texarkana to the nearest Negro dentist.
Maya didn’t realize until later the impact of that event, the impact of the doctor’s refusal. As we are all human beings crafted by the hand of God, we all deserve a chance at a successful and healthy life. In the 1920's, especially in the South, different colored skins were treated as those part of diseased castes were years before that. I believe these harsh experiences fashioned Maya into the woman she is today. Today Maya Angelou is a successful writer; director and producer in theater; and actress. Maya has received numerous honorary degrees, is a professor at Wake Forest University and read her poem On the Pulse of Morning at the inauguration of President Bill Clinton.
Questions:
1.What did Louise and Maya enjoy doing together?
2.Who were some of Maya and Bailey’s favorite authors?
3.What other kinds of things do you think were sold at Momma’s store?
4.Explain why you think Maya and Bailey might have memorized some poems and short stories?
5.What do you think would have been the best way for Dr. Johnson to react to Maya’s toothache? Why?
Answers:
1.Picking out different pictures or images from the clouds and discussing others lives\scenarios.
2.William Shakespeare, Kipling, Poe, Butler, Thackeray, Henley, Paul Lawrence Dunbar, Langston Huges, James Weldon Johnson and W.E.B. Du Bois.
3.Grain, sugar, candy, flour, etc. most any kind of household item answer will be correct. Understand that fairly new things would not be available such as vacuum bags or batteries.
4.Because they loved literature and reading. (Opinion question--be gentle with student’s answers)
Outline:
I. Louise introduces
A. Herself
B. Maya
1) Fish Fry
2) Clouds
3) Authors
C. Bailey
II. Coming to Stamps
A. Explanation
B. Train Ride
III. Community
A. Store
B. Whites
IV. Going to the Dentist?!
A. Dr. Johnson
B. Lesson Learned
1) Created in God’s Image
2) Honors
5. Answers will vary, but typically anything kinder and more humane would be a good answer.
Props: Books by some of Bailey and Maya’s favorite authors, a few items found in Momma’s store--loose grain, pictures of clouds, maybe pictures of segregated buses\trains, maybe a picture of an old southern country store.
*Sources: Maya Angelou: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings