Maya Angelou · USA · 1978
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. 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. Out of the huts of history''s shame I rise Up from a past that''s rooted in pain I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
Maya Angelou · USA · 1978
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. 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. Out of the huts of history''s shame I rise Up from a past that''s rooted in pain I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
“You may write me down in history…”
You can spread lies, push me down into the dirt — but I will rise anyway. Like dust, I keep coming back. Does my confidence irritate you? I carry myself like someone wealthy beyond measure.
“Does my sassiness upset you?…”
Your words are weapons. Your contempt can wound me. Your hatred can be devastating. And still — I rise. Like air itself, you can''t contain me.
“You may shoot me with your words,…”
I rise from everything — from the shameful history of oppression, from generations of pain. I carry with me everything my ancestors survived and gave me. I am literally the hope they died dreaming of.
“Out of the huts of history''s shame…”
I rise. I rise. I rise.
“Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,…”
I rise. I rise. I rise.
Why this poem matters
Published in 1978, this poem became an anthem of resilience. Angelou spoke of it as a defiant declaration — not just for herself, but for all Black Americans and oppressed peoples.