A few of you have sent me emails asking about our blog update📝:: Currently I’m editing content about our DC brainstorming session, mobile communication, and digital marketing strategies. Plus does your mental health act up before a networking mixer? ⤵️Ways to cope and more will be added in our next post.
Early April look for the LibyaAbroad newsletter before we switch gears and head out to The Grand Canyon State for some sunshine and hiking. To be added to our distribution list email email@example.com.
Last but not least, I wanted to dedicate some time to celebrate and honor International Women’s Day from my work from home space today. 👩🏻💼💼
Enjoy this poem by Maya Angelou. 📝
~~~~~ . 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.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
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.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.