Upon returning from the Soviet Union as a ten year old, among my father's greatest fears was that his two young sons (my younger brother and me) had swallowed whole Soviet propaganda. Over the years I believe I was able to convince him that he had misunderstood us both. It wasn't so much that we had inculcated the ideals that were banged into our heads at every turn (although that was partially true. And what of it? Are not the ideals that "all people are created equal" and that no one should receive more than he needs at the expense of another doing without ideals that merit inculcation?). It was more that we saw our own country not through the rose colored glasses that most Muricans saw it, but through crystal clear lenses. That was enough to make us near-traitorous in our thoughts.

Aside: I have a cousin who nominally had a course with Maya at Wake Forest. I asked her how often she'd lectured her. She laughed and replied, "I saw Maya Angelou twice that year. Both times walking across campus."