By Maya Angelou
All God's young children desire touring footwear takes Maya to Ghana, the place she joins a neighborhood of black americans. In a vibrant get together of the attractions, sounds, and emotions of Africa, Maya Angelou additionally explores what it capacity to be African-American at the mom continent, the place colour not issues, yet the place American-ness asserts itself in methods either perplexing and heartbreaking. once more, she longs for domestic.
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Additional resources for All God's Children Need Traveling Shoes
Miraculously we stayed on the road. We were still laughing when he pulled into a driveway and let the engine die. “Girl, you’re going to be all right. You haven’t forgotten the essentials. You know about defending yourself. ” When we got out of the car Julian hugged me and we walked together toward The National Theatre of Ghana, a round, white building set in an embrace of green-black trees. Efua Sutherland could have posed for the original bust of Nefertiti. She was long, lean, Black and lovely, and spoke so softly I had to lean forward to catch her words.
Our arrival had little impact on anyone but us. We ogled the Ghanaians and few of them even noticed. The newcomers hid disappointment in quick repartee, in jokes and clenched jaws. The citizens were engaged in their own concerns. They were busy adoring their flag, their five-year-old independence from Britain and their president. ” Orators, sounding more like Baptist southern preachers than they knew, spoke of Ghana, the jewel of Africa leading the entire continent from colonialism to full independence by the grace of Nkrumah and God, in that order.
I had a job, a car, some money and amusing friends. All meals were served in the ground floor dining room under the watchful eyes of Directress Vivian Baeta, the daughter of a Ghanaian clergyman. Miss Baeta was young and pleasant, but a little too correct for our tastes. She frowned upon loud voices and noisy laughter and most diners, often white collar workers from nearby office buildings who filled the restaurant each mealtime, acceded to her wishes. The Black American residents, however, having no living room save Julian’s side porch, used the dining room as a place to gather, to talk, to argue and maybe to flirt with male friends before returning to the celibate cells on the second floor.