What I find so beautiful about The Miseducation of Cameron Post is that – despite the heavy themes, including the horrible realities of conversion therapy – Cam is still a character filled with personality, love, and joy. It was only by reading Cam’s story that I was able to understand not just how unfair it is to put that kind of weight on yourself, but just how difficult it really is to be carrying that much shame. This was something I’d never heard or seen anyone talk about before, and I hadn’t even realised the true weight of the guilt I was carrying yet. This was a feeling I knew all too well – the feeling that I was doing something wrong by having crushes on other girls and that when bad things happen it must be my fault. On the night her parents die, Cam feels relief that they will never find out that she’s gay, and the guilt at this being her first thought haunts her throughout the story.
It was Cam’s guilt that particularly spoke to me.
The novel explores homophobia, religion, grief and guilt – all from the perspective of a teenager who is trying to find where she fits in the world.ĭespite the novel being set in 1990’s rural Montana, I found myself able to relate to Cam from my hometown life in 2010’s suburban England. Cameron (Cam) then lives with her grandmother and religious Aunt Ruth, who then sends Cam to conversion therapy after finding her with another girl. In case you missed it, The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a novel about a teenage girl who loses both her parents in a car crash and the very same night she kisses a girl for the first time. Within just a few chapters, it had already solidified itself as my favourite book of all time. I was terrified of people discovering what I was reading in case I got in trouble. I had bought the book online and hidden it in my bag, in case my mum found it while I was at school. It was the first time I had ever read a book where the main character wasn’t straight and, at first, I felt like I was doing something wrong. Danforth’s The Miseducation of Cameron Post I was 17, huddled in the corner of my sixth form common room, hoping no one would ask what I was reading.
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