Political Choices Are Hard (or Why I’m Not Voting for Trump)

When I was thirteen, I outlawed slavery.

It was probably my proudest jr. high moment (not that it had a lot of competition, because jr. high). Our history teacher declared a session of the Continental Congress to frame the Constitution. We would take two days to debate issues, and each person received a state, a character, and a list of how that person voted that you were supposed to follow.

My history teacher chose what he thought was the perfect role for me, the awkwardly quiet homeschooled kid in the back row: Roger Sherman, the meek, mild-mannered delegate from Connecticut who basically only spoke up in a significant way once during the convention.

(If you’re laughing right now, then clearly you know me better than my jr. high teachers and classmates did.)

My role sheet spelled out my task: I’d deliver the Connecticut Compromise allowing slavery (but restricting the power…