Angelou recounts the Great Migration of Black people to the North, drawn by the promise of better lives. “Their expectations,” Angelou writes, “were at once fulfilled and at the same time dashed to the ground and broken into shards of disappointment” (43). The sense of fulfillment arose from the shift from the “dull drudgery of sharecrop farming” to “protected work under unionized agreements” (43). Unfortunately, the climate in the North did not prove free of racism, and Black Americans faced new, more humiliating discrimination. Northern white people had “public smiles of liberal acceptance” but their “private behavior of utter rejection angered the immigrants” (43). This false promise and memories of the South have created a new great migration back to what Angelou calls “the land of their foreparents” (43). Angelou states that the bluntness of the South, whether it be kindness or hostility, is far better than the passive-aggressive behavior of the North, primarily because bluntness acknowledges one’s existence. 

The poem “Surviving” documents the ways Angelou overcomes fear, shame, and failure. When “anger, octopus-like, wraps its tentacles around [her] soul” (44), she pauses and searches for “one thing that can / heal [her]” (45). She mentions a child’s face, the laughter of women friends, and the “sturdy guffaw of happy men” (45). These joyous images give her the strength to walk through hard times and towards a place of safety.

Angelou calls herself a builder, having raised a beautiful home. Yet she built it on shifting sand, and its foundation crumbled. Another time, she built a mansion, but the earth shook and engulfed it. She writes, “The emotional sway of events and the impermanence / of construction echo the ways of dying love” (46). Platonic friendships and familial relationships are the only forms of love one can rely on. Angelou claims she is done with “erotic romance,” yet ends her poem with “Until…,” alluding to the possibility of love in the future.

Angelou recalls a married couple with a large age gap. People relentlessly questioned their relationship, wondering what one could possibly want with the other. Angelou responds, “‘And what did I think?’ I said, ‘I commend lovers, I am en-heartened by lovers, I am encouraged by their courage and inspired by their passion’” (47).

Angelou includes a poem titled “Salute to Older Lovers.” In it she writes, “I, surely, love / the brave and sturdy hearts / who dare to love” (47), alluding to the idea that to let oneself love and be loved takes courage. The lovers before her have “broken the bonds of timidity” and proclaimed their love to the entire world (47). Love is not only for young hearts. Even old hearts hurt by broken vows can learn to love again. Angelou ends her poem by thanking the lovers.

In a poem titled “Commencement Address,” Angelou tells listening students that now all of their time spent studying and in the classroom will start to make sense. She writes that courage is “[their] greatest Achievement” (49), stating that regardless of privilege, every person must have “outstanding courage” to reach this point. Without courage, Angelou argues, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. Now that the students have demonstrated their courage, they must ask themselves, “What you will do with it” (51). Angelou asks if they are prepared to better this country and to fight injustices. She writes:

Look beyond your tasseled caps

And you will see injustice.

At the end of your fingertips

You will find cruelties,

Irrational hate, bedrock sorrow

And terrifying loneliness (52).

Angelou urges the students to use their degrees to make a difference and to inject more virtue into the world. She tells them not to fear their task because they have already displayed immense courage. The days of research, cramming for exams, and sleepless nights will soon be “rolled into / An altering event called the / ‘Good old days’” (53).