Entering Blackman Auditorium to thunderous applause and a standing ovation Thursday night, Dr. Maya Angelou carefully made her way to the podium and began to sing.
She transitioned from Spanish to Arabic to Hebrew to French, singing songs, she said, that remind the human race that despite differences in culture, people are more connected than commonly thought.
“You are more alike than you are unalike, and in order to lead, you must know how to follow,” she said to the full audience.
Angelou, brought to Northeastern by the Student Leadership Office and several co-sponsoring student groups, visited campus for the first time since she addressed graduates and was presented with an honorary Doctorate of Fine Arts at the 1992 fall commencement.
The audience broke into laughter several times as Angelou, speaking slowly and carefully, told stories of her life and read some of her favorite works of poetry. She urged the audience to use the library to its fullest potential to learn about their ancestors and histories.
“The librarians have a magic,” she said. “You need to know that someone was there before you. Everybody is your role model. There’s a world of difference between being trained and being educated. The education never ends.”
In an interview with The News before her performance, Angelou cited Paul Lawrence Dunbar and Langston Hughes as some of her favorite writers. She read works from both poets during her performance, choosing Hughes’ “Harlem Sweeties” and Dunbar’s “Little Brown Baby.”
She also chose some of her own works to read, telling her personal story behind one poem. Angelou said she had entered a health food restaurant for rice and vegetables and, upon taking out a pack of cigarettes, was severely scolded by the waitress. She went home, she said, and was inspired to write the poem, “The Health Food Diner.”
“No smoking signs, raw mustard greens,
Zucchini by the ton,
Uncooked kale and bodies frail,
Are sure to make me run…”
The performance soon took a more serious turn as Angelou related to the audience the story of her childhood. At the age of 7, while with her mother’s family was in St. Louis, her mother’s boyfriend raped her. After he was later found dead, Angelou went mute for six years, fearing that it was her voice that killed her attacker. She and her brother Bailey were sent to live with her grandmother in Arkansas. It was her grandmother, she said, that told her she would be a great teacher someday, and helped Angelou to heal.
“I thank her every day of my life, I can’t tell you how many times a day,” she said.
She urged those in attendance to always continue learning and to strive to be leaders in their day-to-day lives.
“Be a leader and compose your life,” she said. “Who knows who you will influence? Somebody here is going to help us to free ourselves from these blights of ignorance. He’s somewhere, she’s somewhere … why can’t it be you?”
Before her performance, Angelou said she enjoyed speaking to young adults because they have such a great potential for influence on the world.
“You really are the best we have, and not enough adults tell you how important you are to us,” she said. “In fact, you’re all we have.”
Although she has served many roles over the years, from activist to writer to editor to actress, Angelou said she will always refer to herself first as a writer.
“I’m a writer. I am a writer, that’s what I am. When I describe myself to God, I say ‘Lord do you remember me? The writer? Tall, black lady, smiling? The writer?’ I am a writer,” she said.
After the performance, students said they were surprised by how humorous and personable Angelou was on stage.
“She’s perfect,” said Janjae Willie, a middler communications major who said her favorite part of the night was when Angelou read poetry. “I didn’t know that she was that funny and humble and down to earth.”
Several members of the Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., of which Angelou is also a sister, had the opportunity to meet with Angelou before she spoke to the Blackman audience, and said her performance left them inspired.
“She leaves you breathless,” said Whitney Montgomery, a senior criminal justice major. “I never really thought about composing my life. To take that word ‘compose,’ which usually has a musical meaning, and put it to your life was ingenious, to say the least.”