A story about Maya Angelou
I heard her speak when I was in college (circa 1982). After she spoke, several of my friends wanted to meet her. I was too tired to stand in the line so I sat to wait for them.
The line to meet her started to form at one end of the room but for some reason the organizers moved Maya Angelou and the whole line to the other side of the room. As she was moving she passed right by me. She stopped, put her hand on my shoulder and asked, “How are you?” I replied, “Tired.” She nodded with an understanding smile, said, “Me too” and then moved on.
It was such an honest, simple exchange.
There are much more important things to say about her, such as how wonderful her writing is, or how strong and insightful she is. Or how full of grace and composure she is. But the simple exchange is my story.
