INTROSPECTIONS OF A NINCOMPOOP

Over the next few days, I went around telling my classmates I was Italian. I was hard-pressed to believe Mrs. Anderson and her assessment...

She knows she isn’t great at many things, but good enough at most things. After countless trial and error attempts at peanut butter...

At six years old, I can’t remember thinking about skin color or heritage. It wasn’t until a few years later in Mrs. Anderson's fifth...

As I’m typing this in the recliner, my body feels bruised where it touches the soft leather. My knuckles hurt as they bend and extend to...