Autobiography by Maya Angelou. New York: Random House, 1969. (2015 Random House Trade Paperback Edition)
Angelou’s memoir deftly recounts her early life starting with her time in a small town in Arkansas where she and her older brother were raised by their paternal grandmother, a brief period living with her mother in St. Louis, and continuing through her teenage years in California with her separated mother and father. Through poetic prose Angelou depicts on a personal level, the larger impacts of systemic racism and classism in the U.S. Many of these barriers continue to this day.
Chapter 24 tells the story of Angelou’s grandmother fiercely trying to obtain oral health care in their small town for Maya who was suffering from severe toothache. Angelou shares what actually happened, and also a reimaging of what ideally should have happened. Below are some excerpts from that chapter. Many other parts of the book do not directly relate to dentistry, but could be used to discuss issues around race and poverty.
“I had two cavities that were rotten to the gums. The pain was beyond the bailiwick of crushed aspirins or oil of cloves. Only one thing could help me, so I prayed earnestly that I’d be allowed to sit under the house and have the building collapse on my left jaw. Since there was no Negro dentist in Stamps, nor doctor either, for that matter, Momma had dealt with previous toothaches by pulling them out (a string tied to the tooth with the other end lopped over her fist), pain killers, and prayer” (pp. 182-83).
“I knew that there were a number of whitefolks in town that owed her [Angelou’s grandmother] favors. Bailey and I had seen the books which showed how she had lent money to Blacks and whites alike during the Depression, and most still owed her. But I couldn’t aptly remember seeing Dr. Lincoln’s name [the town’s White dentist], nor had I ever heard of a Negro’s going to him as a patient. However, Momma said we were going, and put water on the stove for our baths” (p. 183).
“Before we left the Store, she ordered me to brush my teeth and then wash my mouth with Listerine. The idea of even opening my clamped jaws increased the pain, but upon her explanation that when you go to a doctor you have to clean yourself all over, but most especially the part that’s to be examined, I screwed up my courage and unlocked my teeth” (pp. 183-84).
“Momma knocked on the back door [of the dentist’s office] and a young white girl opened it to show surprise at seeing us there. Momma said she wanted to see Dentist Lincoln . . . He opened the door and looked at Momma. ‘Well, Annie, what can I do for you?’
He didn’t see the towel around my jaw or notice my swollen face.
Momma said, ‘Dentist Lincoln. It’s my grandbaby here. She got two rotten teeth that’s giving her a fit.’
She waited for him to acknowledge the truth of her statement. He made no comment, orally or facially.
‘She had this toothache purt’ near four days now, and today I said, ‘Young Lady, you going to the dentist.’
‘Annie?’
‘Yes, sir, Dentist Lincoln.’
He was choosing his words the way people hunt for shells. ‘Annie, you know I don’t treat nigra, colored people.’
‘I know Dentist Lincoln. But this here is just my little grandbaby, and she ain’t gone be no trouble to you . . .’
‘Annie, everybody has a policy. In this world you have to have a policy. Now, my policy is I don’t treat colored people.'” (pp. 185-86).
Find it in your local library.