I read just about anything with words - especially cozy mysteries and urban fantasy.
Subtitled "One single mother's story", that's exactly what this is. bandele writes poetry as well as prose, and it shows in this memoir. Maybe it's because our lives are so different - I'm a childless, old, married lady, as WASP as you can get, and bandele is a young, single, Black mother - but as beautifully as bandele writes, I had trouble connecting with her. Her story is interesting and very touching, it just didn't grab me. The best parts of the memoir are when she is talking about her daughter. bandele clearly adores the girl.
I can see where this book would give hope and encouragement to others in the same situation and where it would spark interesting discussions in book clubs and other reading groups, but it just wasn't my cup of tea.