Motherhood Changed the Way I See Race

Like most people of my generation, I was raised to believe in “equality” above all else. The adage, “all men are created equal” always appealed to my innate sense of fairness and justice — and skin color always seemed like a silly reason to mistreat someone. I held on to these beliefs as long as I lived in the 98 percent white community I was brought up in, a place where crime was almost unheard of and everyone worked together to better the community. It was only when I started to experience the world outside of that environment that my perspective on the importance of race began to change.

Many of you are likely familiar with the horror stories told by white teachers who work in “urban” schools — American Renaissance has published plenty of them. As one of those teachers, I can tell you it’s all true — we are the canaries in the demographic coal mine. I have witnessed every sickening example of the consequences of low IQ, affirmative action, multicultural bureaucracy, low impulse control, black culture, and victimization of white students you can imagine. My experience with all of that certainly colored — no pun intended — my awakening to the dangers whites, as a people, face. But there was another, more important, factor: Over the past 20 years I have raised the most reviled creature on the planet — a healthy white male, my son.

It was only after he was born that I began to fully notice the relentless propaganda of the mainstream media, and how it promotes miscegenation and presents men like my son as bumbling weak fools. I saw how our people’s history is appropriated and manipulated in arts and entertainment, and how our nation’s heroes are twisted and discredited — their monuments torn down and replaced. I’ve shopped for children’s books and been unable to find one with a protagonist who was a positive example of a white male. I’ve filled out countless college and scholarship applications only to find that opportunities for white males are reduced or blocked entirely — regardless of his good grades and impressive test scores. Each one of these things, combined with my experiences at work, pushed me toward the truth about which race is truly disenfranchised and oppressed in our country. It was a realization that fully awoke the protective mothering instincts inside me.

Then one day, I stumbled across an American Renaissance video and heard the quiet, reasonable, practical, and polite voice of Jared Taylor. He wasn’t wearing a hood. He wasn’t a skinhead or a jack-booted thug. He was a gentleman, a rational, intelligent, gentleman sharing factual information. I was intrigued and began to learn more about what race realists had to say. I was “red-pilled” in no time. Now I consciously work towards uplifting and supporting our people and our civilization in whatever way I can. Whether through financial support, reaching out a helping hand to young white men in need, purchasing books from pro-white authors, or just standing between the leftist machine and the lone white male student at work: I make the extra effort to be there. I look forward to the day when I retire and no longer have to do this in the shadows.