There are those who believe that certain inspirational words don't apply because they were written years ago; in an another time; another place, times have changed they say…
The truth of the matter is, times have not changed all that much… unequal & unfair treatment, racism, discrimination, unemployment, distorted truths, lies, deception and police brutality (to name a few issues) continue to run rampant in the black community.
Using nonviolent movements, protests & demonstrations, 'some' black folk continue to fight the good fight against the very same evils that plagued our brothers & sisters as far back as the Emancipation Proclamation and ALWAYS … there has been the "words," whether verbal or in song, words have been a source of inspiration, motivation, safety and freedom, words have enlightened and strengthened our resolve, words like the following poem by Maya Angelou ( I LOVE this poem):
Still I Rise
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
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
Even with bullets flying over our heads,
STILL we rise.