Last night I went to an awards ceremony for a writing contest I’d helped to judge. I wanted to see the people who’d written the essays, to match face with voice. The winners were younger than I imagined they would be. One of them I’d thought was female (our entries were identified only with numbers) was actually male. Two of the three honorable mentions were married to each other.

As the evening progressed, back stories emerged. Enough of them that I knew we had picked the right winners. Enough of them that I knew we, the judges, were the real winners after all.