EDITORIAL
Dear reader, Earlier this year I travelled to Brazil with my partner to explore his homeland and get to know his family. It was my first time meeting his parents, sister and nephew, who all lived together in close confines in a brightly-lit apartment in Rio. Every night, after a day of sightseeing, Greg and I would head to the family apartment for dinner and be received with joyful fanfare. There were long hugs and elated faces, and, despite my Portuguese being as dismal as their English, hours and hours of spirited conversation. I immediately felt at home, like I knew these people intimately and had shared meals with them before. On one particular night, I had this vision of roots extending from the table where we sat, all the way to…