Answer:
mark me brailinist
Explanation:
the poem has clear and particular resonance for black Americans. More broadly, the poem is a ringing assertion of the dignity of marginalized people and an insistence on their ultimate, inevitable triumph over violence and hate.
“Still I Rise” presents the bold defiance of the speaker, implied to be a black woman, in the face of oppression. This oppressor, addressed throughout as “you,” is full of “bitter, twisted lies” and “hatefulness” toward the speaker, and hopes to see the speaker “broken” in both body and spirit. However, despite all the methods of the oppressor to “shoot,” “cut,” or “kill” her, the speaker remains defiant by continuing to “rise” in triumph.
Angelou was a staunch civil rights activist, and “Still I Rise” can be taken as a powerful statement specifically against anti-black racism in America. At the same time, its celebration of dignity in the face of oppression feels universal, and can be applied to any circumstance in which a marginalized person refuses to be broken by—and, indeed, repeatedly rises above—prejudice and hatred.
Society relentlessly tries to humiliate and demean the speaker, who has little power to fight back. The speaker acknowledges that society “may” enact violence upon her. It also has the ability to write “lies” about the speaker and present them as facts. The speaker does not have the ability to prevent any of this, and, in fact, the attempts to harm the speaker only escalate as the poem continues. This “you” may crush the speaker into the dirt; it may “shoot,” “cut,” and eventually even “kill” the speaker with “hatefulness.” An oppressive society, the poem is saying, presents a clear and pressing danger to the speaker’s body and mind.
Yet the speaker responds to this treatment not only by surviving, but by thriving—something that provokes anger from her oppressor. The speaker wonders—her tone tongue-in-cheek—why the oppressor is so “upset,” “offend[ed],” and “gloom[y].” Perhaps, she proposes, it is because of her confident “walk,” generous “laugh[ter],” or dazzling “dance.” In other words, the speaker presents her joy—her refusal to bend to the speaker’s will—as its own act of defiance. Moreover, all of her acts are associated with traditional signs of wealth in the form of “oil,” “gold,” and “diamonds.”
Regardless of the oppressor’s negative and hateful responses, the speaker continues to prosper. The speaker even explicitly rejects the oppressor’s desire to “see [her] broken.” The oppressor wants to elicit “lowered eyes,” “teardrops,” and “soulful cries” from the speaker, to see her downtrodden. Thus simply living with joy, pride, and dignity is an act of resistance against and triumph over oppression.
Indeed, the speaker “rise[s]” repeatedly over the oppressor’s violent hatred and prejudice. The speaker’s rise is first compared to the rise of “dust,” a reference to the earth. Later, her rise transforms from the rise of “dust” to “air,” which is located physically above the earth. The progression of these comparisons over the course of the poem reinforces the speaker’s rise over oppression. And just like the rise of “moons and … suns,” the speaker’s rise is inevitable and unstoppable. Her dignity and strength are qualities that society can’t touch, no matter how hard it tries. The speaker is thus able to ascend out of “history’s shame” and “a past that’s rooted in pain,” both of which are particular references to slavery, by living with pride and joy. Indeed, her rise—a powerful form of resistance against oppression—is the ultimate “dream” and “hope” of oppressed peoples.
