Posted on

Dr. Maya Angelou: Gather Together in HER Name

maya angelou photo from web
“When you hear someone like Dr. Maya Angelou passed away, you have to deal with the fact that one day, you will die too. It’s that simple. If Maya can die, it’s done. You have to face your own mortality. You are reminded that no matter what you do; no matter how much you contribute to society; no matter how passionately you love or hate or fight for justice and all that, at the end, you and I are  the same. We live.  And then we die. But I still think it’s too bad that Dr. Maya Angelou had to. . .”

Die.

He didn’t say that word. Dr. Maya Angelou would never do that to us. She is formidable. She was phenomenal. Just. Plain. Phenomenal. Although I had done most of my ‘growing up’ before coming to the U.S., I feel like I grew up with this once-caged bird. She was a pioneer. The beginning (and the end) of a movement. Dr. Maya Angelou was majestic. Tall. Fierce. Her voice was like thunder at times and it would drop to a whisper. Soft but never fragile. “I got my doctorate the old-fashioned way,” I heard her say once. “I eeeeaaarrrnneedd it!” Dr. Maya Angelou earned the respect and love of millions worldwide. They say you don’t get to take anything with you to the other side. I pray she knew how much she was loved by people everywhere.

Leonie Hermantin PhotoLeonie Hermantin said:

“Hard to put into words what Maya Angelou has meant to me since I have ‘consulted’ her Doctor Highness at so many stages, ‘etapes’ of my life. “As a tall, insecure Haitian, Black female immigrant teen, she taught me that being the ‘other’ was OK! She was a seasoned traveler who refused to accept the limitations of racial and cultural boundaries… She dared to defy, to explore and to redefine her reality! I consulted the Doctor sister again as a mother and more recently as I began this journey of middle agedom, I reread Mamma Angelou’s old poems, devoured essays found online and connected spiritually with the wise elder healer she had become. I have never met her, but did not really need to. Phenomenal, phenomenally phenomenal woman, I am, in your image Maya Mamma Angelou! -Leonie Hermantin

 

irmina ulysseThe Maya in our Hearts ~ Irmina Ulysse

News of Dr. Maya Angelou’s passing brought with it some sadness which was quickly burned away by a fire inside me that her courageous words help fuel so many moons ago.  Like many of her fans, I am full of gratitude and joy for having witnessed and benefited from a life well gifted and lived.  A soul’s purpose delivered fully and unabashedly.  In Hindu, Maya can be expressed as the power that manifest the universe and creates the appearance of our phenomenal world. That power is love and love is in our hearts. Maya Angela is in our hearts and there she will live forever. She helped to manifest a universe where women could be proud of their unique hips and lips. Where women can dare to show all of their “stuff” even if we couldn’t name it, we could claim it. I am grateful for she taught so many of us how to see ourselves in our own eyes and make no apology for it. She was living poetry. While her experiences as a child and young woman would have crippled many, she showed us through courage, self determination, and self actualization we can all live with purpose. I am eternally grateful for this true Queen Mother, a living Maya that will remain eternally in our hearts. – Irmina Ulysse

yanick etienne“She’s a woman Strong like a rock Our symbol of freedom and humility Her voice echoes the suffering of all oppressed and poor The light that shines on you comes from her heart. Maya, Goddess of Love.” -Yanick Etienne

phippsFrom  poet and painter, Marilène Phipps-Kettlewell

“The bird has left her cage, but no matter–her wings are larger now, and still, in spite of the distance, her singing will never cease to be heard, and move us.”

_______________________________________________________________________________
Posted on

Yanick Etienne: When Angels Sing

Yanick Etienne (Haiti Celebrity Photo)

A favorite song is like a soul mate: there can be only one. At any given moment, someone somewhere is crying out, “This is MY song!” 15,000 people could be making the same declaration at exactly the exact same time, but what does that matter?

All you know is that you heard the song once (or a thousand times), and there was a surge of something that felt a whole lot like entitlement. Ownership. You could have written the lyrics and the musical arrangement yourself.

Perhaps you were completely conscious of your surroundings at the time you fell for the song. Perhaps it is now a distant dot of some long-time-ago night when that song coincided with a dramatic moment. No matter. It happened.

You now own the rights to this song. You sing it in the shower, at the checkout line, any time you wish. You hum it unconsciously. You sing it when you’re happy and when tears start to pop out of your eyes. It’s your personal theme song.

You become protective of the song’s particular musical arrangement. If another artist hints at a remake, you’re offended. You feel infringed upon. The version you fell in love with must not be desecrated. You share your devotion with your e-friends. For proof, you even post a video of yourself singing your song with a wooden spoon for a microphone. And then you “Like! Like! Like!” it your darn self.

——

Long before ‘friend’ became a verb, I met a gem of a girl from Ireland who introduced me to a few of her favorite musicians: Bob Marley, U-2, B.B., David Bowie, Roxy Music.

Roxy Music?

Strange name for a man, I thought; but it turned out the singer’s name was (and still is) Bryan Ferry.

My Irish friend played her songs. There was a forbidden-fruit feel to the moment. These singers were not exactly angels. My traditional Haitian parents would not have approved of me going around the house singing “I shot the Sheriff. . .” or “. . .Your kisses drive me delirious. . .” or even Roxy Music’s ever so subtle little song: Avalon.

Bryan Ferry’s vocals are insistent, provocative, mysterious, breathy–the kind of voice that can get a girl into a whole lot of trouble. The lyrics barely hint at seduction, nothing blatant. It’s just a simple, harmless description of a romantic incident. The listener is the one adding the meaning and insinuations and whatever else he/she wants to add. The song is as innocent as loves songs can be.

When the party’s over

I’m so tired

Then I see you coming

Out of nowhere

Much Communication

In a motion

Without conversation 

or a notion. . .

Bryan pauses here. The melody has to breathe. 8 counts later, he starts again. “When the samba takes you out of nowhere. And your destination. . .You don’t know it. . .” 

His breath trembles as he sings. You can feel the longing. You start to add meaning of your own. Yes. Ooh. You can’t deny what the song is doing to you. Until he reaches the bridge. The unforgettable bridge comes and the world stands still.

Yanick Etienne appears out of nowhere. The spotlights focus on her. She will take over now. Thank you, Bryan. Yanick doesn’t mean to steal the show, but everyone in the house will stop whatever they’re doing. They don’t want to miss this experience.

Yanik Etienne sways a little, taking in the music until her part comes. She stands under the blinding light, seemingly alone.

“Avalon.  Avalon. Avalon. . .”  she begins in an entreating voice. “Avalon.” 

You tell yourself that since no human being’s voice can be so powerful, Yanick must have back up; and these backup singers–hundreds of them–must be hiding backstage somewhere.  Maybe those backup singers were like angels hovering above the stage, assisting Yanick through her song, making her sound like a legion of angels.

I recall the room becoming still. Time stopped. This was going to be my song—the one I would never forget. Luckily, there was no loss involved. No emotional trauma. No soap-opera goodbyes—just two girls listening to forbidden-fruit songs, which by today’s standards are like Gregorian chants.

There have been other favorite songs since I heard Yanick Etienne—songs that my parents forbade to hear simply because I was born female. Now, I can declare that I love those songs, too.

I like Tabou Combo, Bessie Smith, Charles Aznavour, Marta Jean-Claude, Celia “Azukar” Cruz, Manno Charlemagne, Jon Lucien, Emeline Michel; Beethoven, B. Obas singing “Ou fout dous; ou gou, ou bon, epi ou bòn ankò!” I like Nina Simone, Michael Jackson, Mahalia Jackson, Boukan Ginen, Ram, Coco Breeze, Grace Jones, Tiga, Pauline Jean, and Katia D. Ulysse;-)  I Like, Like, Like many singers. But whenever I heard Yanick Etienne’s voice in Avalon, something inside always  shouts: “That is MY Song!”

Yanick sang but a few words in the song, but critics worldwide agree hers is rare talent and a gift to every listener. Yanick is still holding those notes. The girl is amazing, and getting more fierce everyday. If you don’t believe in angels, listen Yanick Etienne’s voice just once.  And then you will.

Rumor has it that Ms. Etienne’s new single will drop soon. Get ready for an exciting experience. I can’t wait.