White ink on a white page

“Happiness writes in white ink on a white page.” The French writer Henry de Montherlant said it; these days, the words have been spilling from Salman Rushdie’s lips as he makes the rounds talking about his new memoir, “Knife: Mediations After an Attempted Murder.” I just started reading the book in which, as the title suggests, Rushdie reflects on matters of life and death after a … Continue reading White ink on a white page

'I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise, I rise, I rise'

  I met Maya Angelou in 1983. I worked for the Center for Participant Education at Florida State University and we had invited Angelou to speak on campus. I went with my friend Graciela Cuervo to fetch her at the Tallahassee airport, shook her hand and said: “Maya, I am so happy to finally meet you.” She was a towering figure in so many ways. Even physically. She … Continue reading 'I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise, I rise, I rise'