Among my earliest memories, I was on a stage scanning the faces in a crowd, looking for my mom. I must have been about 4 years old, and there were maybe 10 of us kids on the stage. This was, I think, my first dance recital. I'll never forget the elation of spotting my mom, who must have been near the back of the audience, in front of a door or window, because she was a dark silhouette with bright light emanating from behind. Up on stage, we were in a line, holding hands. I wriggled my hand, trying to get out of my partner's grasp—I wasn't supposed to do this, and it took some effort. But I prevailed and waved wildly at my mom. I was so happy to see her.
