My first day volunteering at immigration court began with a medical emergency. A man had collapsed in his wheelchair while DHS officers surrounded his terrified family. When I identified myself as a physician, they demanded proof before allowing me to help. In that moment, I understood what it meant to live in a country where mercy requires credentials—and where witnessing itself can feel like an act of resistance. The post My Home: Kidnappings in New York by Sonni Mun appeared first on ROO...| ROOM A Sketchbook for Analytic Action