An autobiographical account of the life of a young black man growing up in Harlem in the 1940s, the book chronicles his shockingly early introduction into a crime-filled life (by the age of nine (!) he was a seasoned thief and gang member), through his stints in institutions such as Eleanor Roosevelt's Wiltwyck, and his amazing efforts to leave behind that life to make a better one for himself. I can't say that I liked it - this isn't a book that you enjoy reading. It's hard and harsh and bleak. But it's also incredibly well-written and inspiring, and still an important read today; I learned so much about what life was like for kids growing up in Harlem at that time, a world that, as a white farm-raised girl from the Midwest in the 80's, I knew nothing about. So I'm grateful for this narrative and humbled by Brown's ability to rise up out of his beginnings and become the impressive scholar and writer he was. Be warned, though: Brown pulls no punches in his no-nonsense way of detailing scenes of violence, drug use, and even gang rape. (I nearly put it down several times, but decided to push on because I thought it overall an important story to finish.)