Maya Angelou

Mrs. Flowers reminds Maya Angelou of her mother in her nurturing presence, wisdom, and ability to inspire confidence and self-worth in Maya. Mrs. Flowers serves as a mentor figure who helps Maya appreciate the power of language and the importance of self-expression.

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He entered her office alone and surprised her.

The Maya studied astronomy, calendrics, agriculture, and the movements of celestial bodies from observation. They built impressive observatories and used their knowledge to develop sophisticated calendars and accurately predict celestial events.

The Maya did not invent basketball. Basketball was actually invented in 1891 by James Naismith, a Canadian physical education instructor, as a way to keep his students active indoors during the winter months. The game has no direct historical connection to the ancient Maya civilization.

Yes, Maya Angelou's mother, Vivian Baxter, worked as a nurse. She had trained and worked as a nurse during various periods of her life.

America

Chaac was important to the Maya because he was the god of rain, vital for agriculture in their society. The Maya relied on rain for successful crops and sustenance, so Chaac played a crucial role in their everyday life and survival. Additionally, Chaac was associated with fertility and water sources, making him a key figure in their religious beliefs and practices.

The intelligent but impressionable, quiet young Maya is profoundly influenced by the manners and speech of Mrs. Flowers, who encourages Maya to read great works of literature, and pay attention to the usage of language. Maya sees the woman as an ideal, someone above common people, and someone to be emulated. Her influence helps Maya become more interested in language and literature, and gain confidence in her own voice.

Maya Angelou has never won a Tony Award, but she was nominated for the Best Supporting (now called Featured) Actress in a Play Tony in 1973 for her work on the play "Look Away."

Maya life was based on agriculture, particularly maize cultivation. They also had a complex social structure with a ruling class, priests, artisans, and farmers. Additionally, religion played a significant role in their daily life and societal structure.

In a song - I wouldnt say its possible to even getting close to sum her up - but if this would awake the interest in Maya Angelous life in younger generation, a job well done: https://soundcloud.com/#saracharismata/woman-maya-angelou-tribute-song #Charismata

Maya Angelou was a black person that was molested as a young girl. After that, she told her guardian at the time, and they went and killed the guy that did that to her. When she found out about the killing, she realized that her words had killed someone, so she stopped talking for several years. Finally, a teacher taught her that her words were important, and she got Maya to talk again.and as she grew up she new her words were more than what they meant.

Maya Angelou was asked to recite a poem at the inauguration of Bill Clinton.

A Rock, A River, A Tree

Hosts to species long since departed,

Marked the masterdonzat

The dinosaur will die, who left dry tokens

In our lives

some of Maya Angelou's most famous poems consist of symbols such as:

a caged bird that then is free

clothes, symbolising african-americans buying clothes from the rich western society

"A Rock, A River, A Tree

Hosts to species long since departed,

Marked the masterdonzat

The dinosaur will die, who left dry tokens

In our lives"

- Maya 1993

Maya Angelou had 3 husbands named Tosh Angelos,Paul De Feu,and Vusumzi Make.

The Maya are remembered for their advanced civilization in Mesoamerica, known for their sophisticated architecture, mathematics, astronomy, and writing system. They built impressive cities and temples, and their intricate calendar system and astronomical knowledge were highly developed. Additionally, the Maya are remembered for their complex society and cultural achievements, including art, rituals, and ball game.

The style of Maya Angelou can range from complex symbolical ideas to easy, straightforward concepts. Firstly, her style is like a story. Second, the vocabulary is usually easy to understand, and not too complicated. And, her works are not always conventional: sometimes she writes in normal four line stanzas with rhyme and rhythm and sometimes she does not. Also, she is very honest, open, and she shows her emotions. All types of emotions are portrayed in her work. There are a lot of positive things about Angelou's style, but there are also some negative things. Sometimes it is hard to follow what she is saying unless the story about her life is known. Sometimes she does no use grammar well like in "Little Girl Speakings". Although it is interesting it might confuse the reader. Maya Angelou's works are enjoyable and interesting because they have a nice rhyme to it and they read like a story or a song. But, as one critic put it, some of her works are "simply corny" (Gilbert 296). Angelou's poetry is for an older audience and is difficult for a teenager to comprehend. She is not very wordy and does not complete her thoughts sometimes. Also, the idea's in her poetry can be boring and might not hold the readers attention.

somewhat, Miss Angelou mentions God in some of her poems and in the book I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, she tells of her church and etc. But i honestly think its an opinion question. i think her writing definitely does, but other people could feel differently... go to mayaangelou.net . it might help

chonological order

on the pulse of morning:

A Rock, A River, A Tree

Hosts to species long since departed,

Mark the mastodon.

The dinosaur, who left dry tokens

Of their sojourn here

On our planet floor,

Any broad alarm of their of their hastening doom

Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,

Come, you may stand upon my

Back and face your distant destiny,

But seek no haven in my shadow.

I will give you no hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than

The angels, have crouched too long in

The bruising darkness,

Have lain too long

Face down in ignorance.

Your mouths spelling words

Armed for slaughter.

The rock cries out today, you may stand on me,

But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,

A river sings a beautiful song,

Come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,

Delicate and strangely made proud,

Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.

Your armed struggles for profit

Have left collars of waste upon

My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.

Yet, today I call you to my riverside,

If you will study war no more.

Come, clad in peace and I will sing the songs

The Creator gave to me when I

And the tree and stone were one.

Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your brow

And when you yet knew you still knew nothing.

The river sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to

The singing river and the wise rock.

So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew,

The African and Native American, the Sioux,

The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek,

The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,

The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,

The privileged, the homeless, the teacher.

They hear. They all hear

The speaking of the tree.

Today, the first and last of every tree

Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the river.

Plant yourself beside me, here beside the river.

Each of you, descendant of some passed on

Traveler, has been paid for.

You, who gave me my first name,

You Pawnee, Apache and Seneca,

You Cherokee Nation, who rested with me,

Then forced on bloody feet,

Left me to the employment of other seekers--

Desperate for gain, starving for gold.

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot...

You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru,

Bought, sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare

Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am the tree planted by the river,

Which will not be moved.

I, the rock, I the river, I the tree

I am yours--your passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need

For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,

Cannot be unlived, and if faced with courage,

Need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon

The day breaking for you.

Give birth again

To the dream.

Women, children, men,

Take it into the palms of your hands.

Mold it into the shape of your most

Private need. Sculpt it into

The image of your most public self.

Lift up your hearts.

Each new hour holds new chances

For new beginnings.

Do not be wedded forever

To fear, yoked eternally

To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,

Offering you space to place new steps of change.

Here, on the pulse of this fine day

You may have the courage

To look up and out upon me,

The rock, the river, the tree, your country.

No less to Midas than the mendicant.

No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day

You may have the grace to look up and out

And into your sister's eyes,

Into your brother's face, your country

And say simply

Very simply

With hope

Good morning.

Inequality, determination,