Viewpoint in I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings Answers

BaileyMargueriteMommaMrs. Flowers

Read the passage from "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”"I'll say you do a lovely job, thought, so neat. That dress looks professional."Momma was enjoying the seldom-received compliments. Since everyone we knew (except Mrs. Flowers, of course) could sew competently, praise was rarely handed out for the commonly practiced craft."I try, with the help of the Lord, Sister Flowers, to finish the inside just like I does the outside."[. . .]"That is a very good job, Mrs. Henderson. You should be proud. You can put your dress back on, Marguerite.""No ma'am. Pride is a sin. And 'cording to the Good Book, it goeth before a fall.""That's right. So the Bible says. It's a good thing to keep in mind."

Read the passage from “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”Momma said, “Sister, I know you acted like a little lady. That do my heart good to see settled people take to you all. I’m trying my best, the Lord knows, but these days . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Go on in and change your dress.”

Which excerpt from “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” best justifies the inference that Bailey is a supportive brother to Marguerite?

In “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,” Marguerite is like the caged bird in the poem “The Caged Bird” because she feels

Read the passage from “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”Mrs. Flowers didn't belong to our church, nor was she Momma's familiar. Why on earth did she insist on calling her Sister Flowers? Shame made me want to hide my face. Mrs. Flowers deserved better than to be called Sister. Then, Momma left out the verb. Why not ask, "How are you, Mrs. Flowers?" With the unbalanced passion of the young, I hated her for showing her ignorance to Mrs. Flowers. It didn't occur to me for many years that they were as alike as sisters, separated only by formal education.

Read the passage from “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”Occasionally, though, Mrs. Flowers would drift off the road and down to the Store and Momma would say to me, "Sister, you go on and play." As I left I would hear the beginning of an intimate conversation. Momma persistently using the wrong verb, or none at all."Brother and Sister Wilcox is sho'ly the meanest—" "Is," Momma? "Is"? Oh, please, not "is," Momma, for two or more. But they talked, and from the side of the building where I waited for the ground to open up and swallow me, I heard the soft-voiced Mrs. Flowers and the textured voice of my grandmother merging and melting. They were interrupted from time to time by giggles that must have come from Mrs. Flowers (Momma never giggled in her life).

Read the passage from “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”I have tried often to search behind the sophistication of years for the enchantment I so easily found in those gifts. The essence escapes but its aura remains. To be allowed, no, invited, into the private lives of strangers, and to share their joys and fears, was a chance to exchange the Southern bitter wormwood for a cup of mead with Beowulf or a hot cup of tea and milk with Oliver Twist. When I said aloud, "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done . . .” tears of love filled my eyes at my selflessness.

Read the passage from "The Caged Bird.”But a bird that stalksdown his narrow cagecan seldom see throughhis bars of ragehis wings are clipped andhis feet are tiedso he opens his throat to sing.