Back when my parents were in Dallas, newly married and just beginning their life together in a new country (for my mom) and a brand-new city (for both), my dad happened to take a marketing course with an Indian professor. Because they were Indian, and secondarily because they were new to the city, the professor took on a mentor role and invited my parents frequently to his home. He and his wife brought my parents in contact with other Indians in the university and created a community of brown solidarity. My parents hadn’t been in contact with this professor in years. But last November, my dad emailed him after coming across an article that was written by a woman with the same last name who made several references to her father that seemed to match to the professor. A few hours later, my father got a reply that she was indeed his daughter. I was home for this revelation and suddenly, I started encountering more of her articles upon returning to New York, all ...