He was a good kid, and a hard-working student, but intelligence was not his strong suit. The ironies went beyond him. In many ways he was like America itself, full of good intentions, always trying to aid those who should be allowed to fail freely and prosper independently, a pool of saliva running down his cheeks, slow of mind but always plodding along, a believer in the virtues of simplicity and effort. Unlike his country, he was drawn towards those who cared and took no actions of hate against those who chastised him.
Even now, twenty years later, I can see his mom tying his shoes as he prepares to head out for another day of school, another day of chastisement.