Harvard University

My father said I didn’t cry when I was born. Instead, I popped out of the womb with a furrowed brow, looking at up at him almost accusatory, as if to say, “Who are you? What am I doing here?” While I can’t speak to the biological accuracy of his story—how did I survive, then? How did I bring air into my lungs?—– it’s certainly true that I feel like I came preprogrammed with a compulsion to ask questions. I received my first journal in preschool, probably because my parents were sick of cleaning my crayon drawings off my bedroom wall. Growing up, my notebooks became the places where I explored…