Grad Student Guest Post By Anne Jones I remember being in Dr. Lutes’ class at Driscoll Hall the day we got the email. Suddenly, the gray tablet arm chair I usually sat on for class didn’t seem too bad. The fact that my laptop, books, and notes were in constant danger of falling off for want of space became, at that moment, an inconsequential matter. In fact, on the first day of class, my laptop had actually spectacularly tumbled off. Astonishingly enough, it had survived this near-death experience. Distance approximation was never my forte but that traumatic moment had made me an expert, at least when it came to the boundaries of a tablet arm. That evening, as I settled in, I realized I had formed a bit of history with that chair. It was tied to my engagement with the world of immigrant narratives and histories. With characters, ideas, and nations across time. With my professor and my classmates. Earlier that day, my inbox revealed what everyone knew was coming: classes we...