Early in my teaching career, before I had published memoir and poetry, I emphasized my international reporting experience in my bio for a Manhattan writing workshop that advertised its course catalogues in plastic yellow boxes on the sidewalk.

At the beginning of a new class, a young woman said, “I’m so relieved! I read your bio and thought you’d be 55 years old with gray hair and a bun. You look like you go on dates.”

This was 20 years ago. It occurred to me recently that I have become that woman.