I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings used to be a confusing title for me. I never quite
understood what Maya Angelou meant by that. What was she trying to say to me? I think I
finally understand, a year after reading the novel.
I recently saw my father after not seeing him for around six months. Naturally seeing him
was a shock to my system, so I had forgotten how he would touch me like I belonged to him. I
used to think it was ok for him to touch me the way he did, but now I understand that a father is
not supposed to touch a daughter in the way that he does to me. I wanted to protect my younger
sister, so I allowed him to touch me, kiss me, and talk to me inappropriately. I didnt want him to
hurt her the way he did me.
After the visit with him, I went home and I thought over this visit carefully, remembering
how angry and uncomfortable I felt when his hands were grabbing my thighs, how his hand
would always be placed on my mid lower back in a possessive manner. As I thought angrily upon
these memories, I suddenly started to remember things from when I was a young child that I had
burrowed deep in my own mind so I wouldn't remember. I suddenly remembered vividly being
around five years old and lying completely naked in my mom and dads bed. I remember my
father laying naked with me. He wouldn't let me get up. He was touching my nipples and calling
them "naddas". I was hungry and wanted to get up for breakfast, but he wouldn't let me. He
forced me to stay laying by him as he touched my nipples.
This is all I remember. I don't remember how this memory ended. I felt so disgusted by
this memory that I actually developed a fever of 102 degrees for the following five days. The
doctor diagnosed me with the flu. As I rested at home, I constantly thought about how I should
deal with the pending problem of my father. I didn't want to see him again, but I still love him. I

want to protect my sister and mother from him, but I don't know how. The only solution I can see
is faking a happy relationship with him for a day every six months so he thinks everything is ok.
I'm afraid if I confront him, telling him I want nothing to do with him, he would make it his main
goal to follow me around (like he did when I was a little girl), intimidate my family members,
spread lies about my mother around the community, and try to manipulate and make me feel
guilty about the way I feel.
I have recently been reflecting upon my childhood and early teen years with my father. I
now remember all of his inappropriate behavior towards me, but I especially remember how
possessive he was over me, as if I belonged to him. I remember being stuck in the house because
he would not allow my sister and me to leave. I would look at my small goldfish tank and just
watch them swim, as I sat cold, hungrily waiting for breakfast. We would finally eat at around 1
or 2 pm (the food would be cold). He would then pray for about ten minutes and we were not
allowed to eat any of the food until he finished praying. We would then ravenously eat and while
doing so, my father would say something either homophobic, racist, sexist, or just insensitive.
His statement would then prompt me to speak out against his intolerance. This would spark the
flame of a heated argument that would last on average about two hours. I would speak out while
I was wearing three layers of woollen sweaters to keep warm. He would be infuriated by my lack
of submission to his beliefs and would engage in our debate of morals. I would speak out after
being controlled and forced to stay in the house. I would speak out after being starved by him. I
would speak out after being forced to stare at the food I wanted so badly, as he bowed his
hypocatic head in "holy" prayer. I would speak out because it was all I had. I would sing out
against the bars of my cage. I was the caged bird singing out because my captor couldn't do shit
about it. My father may have been able to touch me possessively, starve me, touch me against my

will, and control what I did while I was with him, but he couldn't control what I said and he
couldn't control what I believed no matter what.
I was the caged bird. I was not in control of my environment, my master chose when I
could eat, I suffered or gained by his decisions, but despite that, HE could not chose the tune I
sang. I chose what I said, how I felt, what I believed. I chose to reject his religion when I saw
fault. I chose to oppose his morals when I disagreed with them. I chose to be tolerant of those
who are different that me. I chose who I am despite the cage that wrapped around me. No matter
what HE said, did, or forced me to do, he couldn't control what I said or thought. That is an
individual's most important possession; the possession of your mind and voice. I didn't let him
take that from me. I sang the tune of my choosing. I did not allow the cage that suffocated me to
decide whether I sang in quiet submission or in a loud rebellious voice. I chose my own tune.
That is why I understand why the caged bird sings.