My father Leo is a Jewish refugee from the former Soviet city of Ufa. As his 19-year-old son, I left home for college last year well-versed in the evils of communist double-think, party propaganda, and the disastrous policies wedded to generations of poverty. (Oddly enough, that knowledge would soon prove useful in navigating a university campus enmeshed with riotous, degenerate protesters, but I digress.)
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