Small spaces
But what elicited the most dread was my own history of claustrophobia. Twenty-five years ago, I was arrested in Washington, DC, in a protest of the Administration’s intention to expand drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. It was the first time I’d been arrested. Convinced of the righteousness of our cause, I was reasonably calm when the arresting officer cuffed my hands behind my back, seated me and my …