by Glenis Redmond

I woke one Friday Morning with no idea that a path would lead me to Winston Salem, North Carolina. Even though at the beginning of the week, I had read the announcement about Maya Angelou’s Estate Sale, my first thought was not to attend. Even when the night before I offhandedly asked my twin daughters, Amber and Celeste, if I should go they both shouted in unison a resounding, yes.

The U.S. Postal Service will release a "forever" stamp honoring writer Maya Angelou, the agency announced Monday. Angelou, best known for her memoir "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings," died last year at age 86.

THOT, THOT, THOT, THOT.

The word buzzes around in my mind like a mosquito. And my attempts to logically swat it away fail; the buzz grows louder and louder. But no matter how much I try, I can’t get away from the blood thirsty judgmental name callers. They just keep biting, drawing blood and inflicting pain.

I was no more than twelve years old when I was asked to read Maya’s “Still I Rise” at a Black History program for my church. I was working hard to memorize the lines and as I was practicing, my mother told me that I wasn’t allowed to say one of the lines:

by Angela Moore

The death of Dr. Maya Angelou has me thinking a lot about life. As I read through my timeline on facebook and glanced through Twitter and Instagram over and over there was a resounding theme concerning Dr. Angelou. She left a legacy that can not be denied.

North Carolina outlets confirmed today that Dr. Maya Angelou, Award-winning author, renowned poet and civil rights activist, has died. She was 86.

Mayor Allen Joines of Winston-Salem, North Carolina confirmed Angelou was found by her caretaker this morning.