i know why the caged bird sings
In her book, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings," Maya Angelou describes one sunny afternoon when a couple from Little Rock visited her family's small store operated by her Uncle Willy who is physically disabled. Angelou was startled to realize that for the only time in her life she was witnessing her uncle's deception; Uncle Willy was pretending to not be lame. Early in the book Angelou describes her impression of that afternoon: I'll never know why it was important to him that the couple (he said later that he'd never seen them before) would take a picture of a whole Mr. Johnson back to Little Rock. He must have tired of being crippled, as prisoners tire of penitentiary bars and the guilty tire of blame. The high-topped shoes and the cane, his uncontrollable muscles and thick tongue, and the looks he suffered of either contempt or pity had simply worn him out, and for one afternoon, one part of an afternoon, he wanted no part of them. (p.11)Angelou is one of my favorite authors, and her description of Uncle Willy's feeling of alienation is beautiful. Furthermore, I identify with Uncle Willy's desire to appear normal, if only "for one afternoon," for a more important reason than just enjoying Angelou's work. When I first read it
She has regained basic skills such as minimal cooking and personal care. My mother suffered severely from culture shock, and, deprived of family and friends, she retreated from the world. They don't know I am sick; they treat me as if I am normal!" When the day came that people accepted my mother as normal, treating her as they would anyone they encounter regularly, my m!other "sang" with joy. Over the next few years evidence began to surface that my mother did, indeed, have a terrible problem. It was almost as if my mother held her strength together just long enough to see me reach adulthood. I spent most of my younger years trying to be someone that I am not, just to fit in. Mother had set impossibly high standards for herself in order to measure her self worth. Over the years, the stress continued to accumulate. As her only child, I grew up confused by the small incidents that occurred, suggesting something might be wrong in Mother's thinking. Her students, and subsequently parents, demanded something "be done about Mrs. My mother called me, terrified and making crazy accusations. The doctors later told me that the stress my mother endured caused such a chemical imbalance that the brain cells were dying from the chemical problems. My father, a police officer, finally found her, lost and confused, wander!ing the mall. Then the yearly trips before the school board began again, in Bedford this time.
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,
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Acceptance Essays
