Emilie Wapnick

Do you remember being asked as a little kid what you wanted to be when you grew up? How did you feel? When I think back to when I was five or six, I don’t remember my specific answer. But I do remember what happened after I answered: The face of the adult who had asked took on a look of approval and pride. It felt good to declare an identity. The world (well, my little world, at least) approved.