New York City Taught Me Race Realism

This is part of our continuing series of accounts by readers of how they shed the illusions of liberalism and became race realists.

I grew up in a rural town in Missouri with no blacks. When I was a child, I saw the KKK protesting at a local supermarket that hired illegal immigrants and found Klan recruiting materials tucked inside magazines at the grocery store. I always prided myself for not being like “them” — those awful white people who were racist towards blacks. My parents always taught me not to judge people by the color of their skin.

Moving to New York City to attend Columbia University opened my eyes. I’ve been physically assaulted three times near campus, and all of the perpetrators were black women. I’ve been screamed at on the street by a black man who told me he hates white people and that if I looked him in the eyes he would kill me. In my classes, rich black students spoke of the oppression they faced, and lectured me about my “white privilege,” despite the fact that I grew up poor. I experienced first hand the hate that so many Marxists have for whites.

A major turning point for me came in 2018, when a fellow undergraduate, Julian von Abele, was filmed professing his love for white people and stating the fact that Europeans built the modern world. The clip went viral. Students likened him to a murderer, and called for his expulsion. I couldn’t fathom how saying he loved white people could be interpreted as some kind of hate crime. I searched online for positive responses to what he said, and found a Red Ice video about him. I loved what Lana Lokteff and Henrik Palmgren had to say, so I subscribed to their website. Over the next few days I spent hours watching Red Ice videos. They confirmed what I had always known deep down but didn’t want to admit: race matters. In 2019, a white female student was stabbed to death by three black teens in Morningside Park, next door to Columbia’s campus. Students were told by the administration that avoiding the park was racist.

I’ve learned it’s actually very easy to not be “racist” when you don’t have to live around blacks. It was after living in New York City with blacks for a few years that I discovered that race realists were absolutely right. It’s not ignorance — it’s experience — that led to my racial awakening.

If you have a story about how you became racially aware, we’d like to hear it. If it is well written and compelling, we will publish it. Use a pen name, stay under 1,200 words, and send it to us here.