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A GRACIOUS AND GENEROUS INTERVIEWEE: Maya Angelou

WHEN YOU get the opportunity to interview a living legend, the last thing you want to do is mistake them for someone else. But that was my error when I interviewed Maya Angelou on the telephone in 2012.

The UK PR rep handling the interview had told me that Angelou’s publicist Bettie Clay would connect the call. So, as instructed, I dialled the number at the allotted time and when the friendly female voice at the other end answered the phone saying “Hello,” I instinctively said: “Good morning, is that Mrs Clay?”

“No,” the woman replied warmly. And then it dawned on me – Angelou had answered the phone herself. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said with a chuckle of realisation. “I was told Mrs Clay would be connecting the call.”

“No, it’s me,” Angelou said sweetly.

Having developed a passion for interviewing older personalities, those with a wealth of knowledge and experiences to share, I had looked forward to speaking with the renowned poet and author, famed for books including And Still I Rise and I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. And as I’d expected, Angelou didn’t disappoint.

She began by revealing that she herself enjoyed doing interviews, as she was always intrigued to know what the interviewer wanted to know. Naturally, that was reassuring, as I wanted to know so much; probably much more than our 20-or-so minutes would allow.

Nonetheless, I received so much information from Angelou. From her thoughts on the importance of courage; her disdain for the term ‘blonde bimbo’ – “Who decided that because the woman has blonde hair, that she’s silly?” – and her willingness to grow old gracefully – “I’ve never said I was 25 when I was 45,” Angelou proved to be a gracious and generous interviewee.

Well known for her views on racial injustice and her disdain for racist slurs, Angelou was unsurprisingly passionate when we spoke about people’s use of the N-word.

Asking her for her thoughts on the rationale of some black people who feel it’s ok for us to use the word because we’ve ‘reclaimed’ it and therefore rid it of its original racially derogatory meaning, this lady was not for turning.

“The word was created to dehumanise human beings,” she began, before giving a powerful analogy:

“If you buy poison from a pharmacy, and the bottle has on it P.O.I.S.O.N with a [picture of] a skull and bone on the label; if you pour the contents into Bavarian crystal, it’s still poison.”

“That word is powerful,” she continued. “It shouldn’t be played with.”

It struck me that even when she was most passionate, Angelou remained softly spoken. Capable of getting her point across without raising her voice, she made you want to listen to what she had to say without being forceful with it.

Equally notable was her own willingness to listen. Despite having a lifetime of experiences to talk about, never did it feel as though she wanted to rush questions along so that she could do all the talking. And when she did talk, Angelou gave plenty without droning on - a wordsmith who used words wisely.

Apparently, my experience wasn’t a one-off. By Angelou’s own admission, she was a good listener and that ability to listen enabled people to feel “at ease” with her, despite her iconic status.

“I listen to people speak and they are pleased with that,” she told me. “They realise, ‘oh, she’s listening to me.’ People are put at ease in my presence.

“They think ‘ooh, I’m gonna meet Maya Angelou’ and then they do so, and the next thing they know, they’re kicking off their shoes, saying, ‘We’ll have another cup of coffee please!’ It’s because I listen.”

I’m truly grateful I had the opportunity to speak with one of the most revered orators of the modern era. Ms Angelou, thank you for sharing and thank you for listening.