In the 4th grade I was assigned my very first “research project.” It was to write an eight to ten page handwritten report on one of the 50 states, excluding California because we lived there and had already done an extensive class unit on its history. I don’t remember which state I chose, but I do remember my dad accompanying me to the library to pick out a book about it. As we scoured the shelves, he directed me to a series of state history books written for kids. Almost every one was there, in chronological order, but he looked dismayed because West Virginia, the state he grew up in, wasn’t present. My nine-year-old self reassured him that it might be missing because someone already took the book out of the library that day. I pointed to “Virginia,” suggesting that perhaps since it was already there the library had no need to for “western” part.