I'm cataloguing my recipes for Keith, the one person growing up on my experiments. No one taught me to cook. I refuse to follow recipes for reasons I can't explain. My creations wouldn't please most people. But Keith eats what I make. Maybe someday he'll wonder what his mother was thinking at the stove.

My son spent six years learning what Adrienne Rich called "the geography of fear"—bullied, developing an atlas of avoidance. Then something unexpected: he began reaching toward leadership roles with persistence that baffled me, practicing courage against all his training.