![]() She and Bailey continued to live with their grandmother until they had advanced beyond what the education system offered them in the segregated south. Physically abused by her mother's fiancé, Maya recovered and returned to Stamps and a loving environment. It was in St Louis, a city that should have afforded Maya more opportunities than rural Stamps, that she experienced the low point in her childhood. Coming from a multi racial family, members of Maya's maternal family were light skinned enough to pass for white and some integrated into the German community. When Maya was eight and Bailey nine, their father came to Arkansas and brought them to live with their mother in St Louis. Devouring books like candy, both children quickly advanced through the Stamps educational system, two grades ahead of schedule. ![]() Raised by a strict, church going grandmother and uncle, Maya and Bailey turned to both books and each other for comfort. Even though the south was still in the throes of Jim Crow and Stamps was at the forefront of segregation, young Maya appeared to enjoy a loving childhood. First published in 1969 and now considered a modern classic, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings details Angelou's tumultuous childhood in poignant detail.īorn Marguerite Johnson and often called Ritie, Maya and her older brother Bailey were taken to live with their grandmother at young ages following their parents' divorce. Before she won her multitudes of awards and honors, Maya was raised in rural Stamps, Arkansas by her grandmother and uncle during the depression. Maya Angelou was a poet and Nobel laureate who once gave an address at President Clinton's inauguration. Maya Angelou tipped me $20, and I never even read her fucking book. Instead, I hauled her six or seven massive bags inside, into the elevator, and up to her room on the fifth floor of the historic Landmark Inn. If I'd remained outdoors another hour or so, I suppose I may've proven her right. In fact, the only thing grander than the bus itself was the mink coat on the elderly black woman exiting it, and I'll never forget the words she spoke to my soaked skinny ass, there on the frozen sidewalk of my youth: Even to this day, I've still yet to see a grander one. Stepping out into the sub-zero winds, I saw before me the grandest tour bus I'd ever seen in my whole entire life. Someone tapped me on the shoulder and said, "hey, there's a VIP coming in, put on your bellboy hat and head out front." I didn't put on my bellboy hat because I didn't have one - just the same dirty, drenched apron I wore every day in that year or two between high school and college, at least whenever I wasn't sitting in my shitty little apartment, or else wasting time and brain cells someplace else. It was some random gray day in Marquette, Michigan, must've been the winter of '00, and I was washing dishes as usual at the downtown Landmark Inn. I must confess I've read precious little Angelou in my time, but I'll never forget the day she tipped me $20.
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