Review of Angry Me by Lisa Feder
Isn’t it fascinating how the simplest concepts can carry the heaviest weight? When I stumbled upon Angry Me by Lisa Feder, the title alone sparked my curiosity. As someone who often reflects on the emotional landscapes we navigate, the premise—encouraging children (especially girls) to embrace their anger—felt like a necessary balm in a world that often tells them to suppress such feelings.
The book opens with a striking visual: a young girl gazing into her mirror, her expression a blend of frustration and vulnerability, her fist tightly gripping her toothbrush. The bold declaration, "I get angry," stood out to me not just as a statement, but a powerful proclamation that sets the tone for the entire narrative. Feder’s portrayal captures that universal struggle, showcasing the complexities of emotions that children regularly face but may find difficult to articulate. It’s a refreshing stance that acknowledges angerand offers it a rightful space, paving the way for deeper conversations about emotional acceptance.
Throughout the book, we journey with the young protagonist as she experiences various forms of anger—whether it’s the "it’s-my-turn" anger or feelings of sadness and exhaustion that sometimes bubble into a rage we all know too well. Each vignette felt like a mirror reflecting feelings I recognized from my own childhood, lending the story both empathy and depth. Instead of shying away from the rawness of these emotions, Feder dives headfirst into them, empowering young readers to not only acknowledge their feelings but also explore them.
What impressed me most about Feder’s writing style is her ability to convey complex emotional truths without oversimplifying them. The pacing is just right, allowing the reader to dwell in each moment of anger before exploring potential paths to coping through words. I appreciated how she emphasized that while expressing anger can be cathartic, it doesn’t always lead to instant resolution. Sometimes, just like the girl’s struggles in the mirror, it takes time to find the right words—or even sounds—to truly express what we’re feeling. This nuance is both refreshing and critically important, especially for young children learning to navigate their emotions.
A standout line that resonated with me was when Feder writes about moments when "words won’t come." This simple yet profound observation spoke volumes about the human experience, underscoring the gaps in communication we often face. It’s a reminder that it’s okay to feel angry and confused, and that sometimes, just making noise is an important step toward healing.
Angry Me is an excellent addition to both home and school libraries. It’s a much-needed resource for parents and educators seeking to foster emotional intelligence in children. This is a book I can see being an essential tool in sparking discussions about feelings—encouraging kids to explore the positively transformative power of expression.
In closing, I wholeheartedly recommend Angry Me to anyone seeking to understand the intricacies of their own feelings or help a child do the same. Whether you’re a parent, teacher, or simply someone who cherishes emotionally resonant books, you’ll find within these pages a world where anger, for all its intensity, is acknowledged, validated, and ultimately, transformed into a tool for growth. Reading this book was not just an experience; it felt like a journey to a place of understanding—a reminder that it’s okay to feel angry, and more importantly, to express it.