ContributorNetwork - FIRST PERSON | My yearbook picture was taken on Sept. 10, 2001, and I rejected it immediately. It was only a couple of days into the school year at my downtown Manhattan high school, so I hadn't assembled the "look" I was hoping to be remembered by. When I looked at the picture that would identify me for posterity, I looked goofy. Young. Naive. Also, perhaps because of the former, I looked fat. I didn't want to be remembered as young and fat. I wanted to be remembered as a mature, sophisticated and a latent genius.

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