Conversations with Maya Angelou

From Maya Angelou:
I decided many years ago to invent myself. I had obviously been invented by someone else–by a whole society– and I did’t like their invention.
All those years in that little town in Arkansas, I learned through the literature. So much that when I later grew to be six feet tall, and at sixteen had a child and was unmarried, years later I decided that this is my world. My grandparents’ and great grandparents’ and great, great, great grandparents’ blood and sweat enriched this soil. So this is my country.
The black writer in particular should throw out all of that propaganda and pressure, disbelieve everything one is told to believe and believe everything one is told not to believe. Start with a completely clean slate and decide, “I will put it out.”
To begin with, if you’re black and every model of beauty is either white or dark-skinned black, then it has to create some insecurity in a person like me, who couldn’t conform. But I was blessed with the advantage of anger. It was a kind of hauteur. I could withdraw from such plebeian company and stand tall and sneer.