I read “Why the caged bird sings” at a very young age, probably around 13 years old. I remember the extreme range of emotions that I felt while reading it; a lot of which I didn’t fully understand given its graphic content. But I do remember the feeling of amazement – how had she managed to survive those things and still be able to write about it?
As with most teenagers, I thought that i had it the worst, that my Mum was the strictest, that I had the biggest problems. This didn’t change after I finished reading Maya Angelous book, but it did put things in perspective for me and it did teach me one fundamental lesson – its OK not to be OK, and its OK to talk about it.
Thank you Maya Angelou xx