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My mother, who grew up in Pennsylvania, literally washed my mouth out with soap once for saying, 'Shut up!' to my sister. She would have washed my mouth out with gasoline if she knew how foul my mouth was racially when she wasn't around.

When I was a little kid, I used to really embarrass my parents.

I remember the first time I pulled out of my driveway in my grandparents' Nissan Ultimate or Centra. I just remember getting in a car that smells like my grandparents, with both my parents standing on the lawn, so petrified. That was my car up until I was 18.

I ended up dropping out of high school at 16 and getting kicked out of my home. My parents told me, sadly, that because I was so disruptive to the rest of the household, that I could no longer live under their roof.

When I was 14, I was a passenger in a terrible accident.

I did some pretty bad things as a teenager. When I was 13, I took my friend's mom's car out for a joyride, and I actually managed to hit somebody else's car. No one was hurt, but needless to say, I didn't get behind the wheel again until I had my driver's license.

I think it was at 16 when I forced myself because my dad had nagged me for an entire year. Like, 'Come on, sing for people. You have a nice voice,' and I just wouldn't do it. One evening, I just decided, 'Screw it, I'll do it.' I remember it was really bad. But I did it. So that was good.

Yeah, I was a delinquent. It was when I was in the ninth grade. I was doing stupid stuff, and the cops came into the class. I was humiliated more than anything.

I remember at the age of five travelling on a trolley car with my mother past a group of women on a picket line at a textile plant, seeing them being viciously beaten by security people. So that kind of thing stayed with me.