At the airport, I hustled out of my Subaru and waved down my family. They looked awful, but who doesn’t at Arrivals. “Why is it so hot?” my mother asked. “Austin, Texas,” my dad said, switching from Korean to English. “Great!” My mother handed me her suitcase and scrutinized the FREE PALESTINE sticker on the car’s bumper. My friend Joana had put it on — she sold me the car...