Embarrassed

Today in my Art&Propaganda class, the assignment was to bring in an annotated, propagandistic poem.
My poem was that of the talented, charming, I'm-successful-and-boy-was-it-hard black woman, Maya Angelou. This woman is a woman! She's done it all from dancing, to writing, to producing--She's done it all, with hard work. Grown up in the ghettos of St. Louis, her story is one to be told.

A poem by this fascinating woman is what I read aloud to my class, a poem by this fascinating woman is what made me cry in front of my class, what made me feel for the pain and anguish of any and all supressed persons in this world... in front of my class.
Afterwards the class of course politely applauded, and my snooty teacher could say nothing accept, "Finally. Someone who appreciates poetry."
Here's the poem. Try to read it like a strong, confidant, black woman. (Pssst! Careful of how you read the punctuation. That's where the real beauty in poetry lies... in the pauses and leaps and stills.)

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 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.