Sallie Marston laid the foundations for this book many years ago as my graduate advisor and the first person to teach me about political geography. Paul Robbins encouraged me to say yes to the book and generously shared advice.

I am deeply grateful to the series editor, John Paul Jones, III, for his advice and extremely helpful feedback on the earliest version of this manuscript. Justin Vaughan was an endlessly patient and supportive editor through every step of this process, and provided clear and useful guidance at our annual conference meetings. Liz Wingett, Merryl Le Roux, and Sarah Keegan at Wiley were likewise lovely, kind and patient. I am also in debt to the two reviewers who read this manuscript, and to the copyeditor, Carol Thomas, not only a patient saint, but also witty. Siobhan McKiernan kindly provided the index.

I could never have written this book without the support of friends who have not only heard out my deepest insecurities but also patiently offered strategies, very close and generous readings, and laughter. In particular, I owe a debt of gratitude to our “dangerous playground” writing group: Lilly Nguyen, Maya Berry, Banu Gökarıksel, and Andrew Curley. Banu has been a mentor to me since I first came to UNC. Andrew kindly provided feedback on many more chapters than necessary. Erika Wise and Jocelyn Chua listened to too many of my complaints. Other encouragement and advice came from Jenny Tone‐Pah‐Hote, Jennifer Ho, Sarah Shields, Jecca Namakkal, Annette Rodriguez, Danielle Purifoy, and Jean Dennison. Malinda Maynor Lowery very kindly provided feedback and advice on thinking about UNC's relationship to Indigenous land. Other colleagues and friends who generously read chapters include Mike Hawkins, Michelle Padley, Altha Cravey, Sathyaprya Mandijny, and Jill Williams.

Ideas in this book were deeply informed by my current and former graduate students Working with them has profoundly shaped my outlook on the discipline, how I live in the world, and given me strength. As if this wasn’t enough, they also read the book proposal and commented on chapters. I can never repay Mabel Gergan, Pavithra Vasudevan, Mike Dimpfl, Chris Neubert, Carlos Serrano, and Pallavi Gupta. I am so grateful for their intellectual community, humor, and solidarity. My scholarship has been fundamentally influenced by our conversations. Other UNC graduate students have provided everything from good humor to critical insight to inspiration when I needed it, including, but not limited to Mike Hawkins, Willie Wright, Adam Bledsoe, Stevie Larson, Priscilla Vaz, Lara Lookabaugh, Nathan Swanson, Batool Zaidi, Dayuma Alban, and Anusha Hariharan. I have been fortunate to listen to a number of student activists here at UNC speak about their experience, both at public events and smaller meetings, and this has been transformative. FLOCK, our feminist collective, has been a home at UNC. I’m especially grateful to have learned from student activists including Omololu Babatunde, June Beshea, Crystal Yuille, and Jayna Fishman, and so many others. I am also endlessly grateful to UNC undergraduate students, for their enthusiasm and support for this project, and for their insight, wit, and earnest desire to fix our broken world.

The staff in our department, Nell Phillips, Barbara Taylor, and Dan Warfield put up with my book‐induced forgetfulness with charm and patience. I couldn’t have written at all without the coffee from our student‐run Meantime Café.

My family has both encouraged me and also put up with me despite my many absences, for which I am thankful, particularly Teresa Swingle, the most loyal and caring sister anyone could hope for, my mom, Kiki Atkinson, and my dad and stepmom, Peter Smith and Dana Smith. Our family back in Ladakh, especially ama‐le Dolma Tsering and my sister‐in law, Stanzin Angmo, have always been a source of comfort.

Our daughter, Sasha Kunzes, age seven now, has been not only a source of delight but also endless encouragement, telling me to set realistic goals, asking if my book would include pictures, and telling me about the books she has written. I look forward to all the books she plans to write on animals and art. My husband, Stanzin Tonyot, supported my odd writing habits despite being deeply skeptical of academic work, and our conversations about why he left academia have fundamentally shaped the approach taken here. As I finished up this book, he was distracting Sasha with swimming and learning to ride her bike. Her joy makes everything possible.