ABSTRACT
A neighborly moment in Appalachia: It’s a Halloween night and I walk through the neighborhood where I lived as an academic for at least five years. It’s warm; people sit in front of their houses, greeting passers-by, distributing candy. As my daughter goes trick or treating, I exchange hellos with a woman who, immediately intrigued by my accent, tells me that this particular community is “nice” to “international students.” “You have picked the right place to be,” she claims. “Welcome to our community.”
