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: The Biography of
Phillis Wheatley
The Biography of
Phillys
Wheatley
by Naima
Mary was
reading a
paper. I tried to
read, but I could not. She taught me how to read and Susannah and
Mr.Wheatley taught me how to write.
 Click play to hear my story |
My
name is Phyllis
Wheatley and am going to tell you my story. I was born in
Gambia, Africa in 1753. I lived there with my mother, father,
brother and sisters. When I was seven years old I was walking by myself
at night. There were two men behind me and they looked scary, so I
tried to run, but they caught me and they put me on a ship with a lot
of black people just like me. I was so scared. They put us
down below deck. People were crying and the ship was rolling.
There were rats everywhere.
The ship took us to America and it was scary there, too, but it is better than staying on the ship. They sold me to a family called Wheatley. I was going to meet them and I was afraid. When they took me to them I was not happy. I went to their house and it was really big. They had a lot of rooms and nice furniture. After a while a girl came up to me and said her name was Mary. She was the Wheatley’s daughter and she showed me around the house and my room. I liked my room it was big. Then her parents, Susannah Wheatley and Mr.Wheatley, came and they showed me the things in my room.
Mary was reading a paper. I tried to read, but I could not. She taught me how to read and Susannah and Mr.Wheatley taught me how to write. When I was 12 years old I began to write poetry. When I was 14 years old my first poem was published. Later, Mr.Wheatley and Mrs. Susannah died and I was free. I moved to my own place and I got married to John Peter, who was a newspaper writer.
In 1773, the first Africa American woman poet was published and that was great because it was my poem. Thirty-nine of my poems were published in London. On the death of Rev. Mr. George Whitefield is my favorite poem. One of my poems was about Crispus Attucks who died in the Boston Massacre. Like me he was also from a slave ship..
The ship took us to America and it was scary there, too, but it is better than staying on the ship. They sold me to a family called Wheatley. I was going to meet them and I was afraid. When they took me to them I was not happy. I went to their house and it was really big. They had a lot of rooms and nice furniture. After a while a girl came up to me and said her name was Mary. She was the Wheatley’s daughter and she showed me around the house and my room. I liked my room it was big. Then her parents, Susannah Wheatley and Mr.Wheatley, came and they showed me the things in my room.
Mary was reading a paper. I tried to read, but I could not. She taught me how to read and Susannah and Mr.Wheatley taught me how to write. When I was 12 years old I began to write poetry. When I was 14 years old my first poem was published. Later, Mr.Wheatley and Mrs. Susannah died and I was free. I moved to my own place and I got married to John Peter, who was a newspaper writer.
In 1773, the first Africa American woman poet was published and that was great because it was my poem. Thirty-nine of my poems were published in London. On the death of Rev. Mr. George Whitefield is my favorite poem. One of my poems was about Crispus Attucks who died in the Boston Massacre. Like me he was also from a slave ship..