My family used to camp at the Minnesota State Fair every year. My grandparents would drive out to the fairgrounds in a camper, and meet us there. Half of us would sleep inside on beds, the other half would sleep outside in a tent.

I grew up in a three-story house in the suburbs of St. Paul. One street over, a neighbor had the same house as us, except it was mirrored.

I am not a painter, but I can paint a little.

I was running down the hill from the front yard to the backyard when I saw a bundle of pink shapes in the rocks.

Recess was always chaotic, no matter which grade I was in. By sixth grade, I had little sympathy for the adults who served as recess monitors.

My bubble popped in 2012, but it didn’t deflate all at once.

When I started high school a year previous, I began helping out with the school plays, because I didn’t want to keep playing soccer.

“If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it?” is a moniker I’ve never heard anyone use seriously, but I know that the answer for me is “Yes.”

When I was a kid, I was not a troublemaker. I was shy, bookish, and stuck to all the rules. . .