(Top Photo) Marian Anderson, 1939, singing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on Easter Sunday. (Bottom Photo) Gelatin silver print of Marian Anderson photo by Richard Avedon.
This Easter Sunday, I'm reminded of another Easter Sunday 70 years ago.
In early 1939, the great contralto Marian Anderson was told by the Daughters of the American Revolution that she could not sing at Washington D.C.'s DAR-owned Constitution Hall because of her race. This caused First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt to resign from the organization. Next, the DC Board of Education refused to allow Ms. Anderson to sing in concert at Central High School on the same grounds -- she was a negro.
Finally, Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes offered Marian Anderson the opportunity to sing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on Easter Sunday. And she did so 70 years ago.
The following poem by Maya Angelou, to me, seems most appropriate as we remember Marian Anderson's triumphant concert on Easter Sunday ... when still she rose.
"STILL I RISE"
By Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod 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.