Anonymous Policeman, American Renaissance, October 30, 2021
This is part of our continuing series of accounts by readers of how they shed the illusions of liberalism and became race realists.
I am probably the only American Renaissance reader who graduated from a historically black college (HBC), but I really can’t say that made me “see the light.” I was treated very fairly, and overall my time there was positive. Of course, I didn’t realize then how academically sub par the school was, and I certainly wouldn’t choose an HBC if I decided to continue my education.
After leaving college I went into law enforcement, and it was there that reality hit me like a club over the head. I realized that all those doubts about blacks I had in the back of my mind were there for a good reason. Despite my college experiences with black people, I had never gone into their neighborhoods and homes. I had never been in homes where roaches crawled freely about, eating food that had obviously been lying on the floor for days. I could never have imagined going into the home of a nearly blind 90-year-old black man who called police because his granddaughter had come over and stolen his Social Security money. I could never have imagined responding to an armed robbery call and discovering the white female convenience store clerk who had confronted the black juvenile female shoplifter in her store, and had gotten the entire side of her mouth cut open with a box cutter — her teeth were clearly visible. And it is hard to describe the anger I felt when I watched a young white mother cry because the black man who had just burgled her home had stolen her video camera and all the precious, irreplaceable tapes of her daughter.
But what I really could never have conceived of before becoming a police officer was the complete lack of guilt and remorse for the terrible acts blacks seem especially capable of committing. I can honestly say I have met some characters whom I consider to be beasts without souls.
When that July 1995 issue of AR arrived in my mailbox — unsolicited — it was like discovering hidden treasure. Here at last were articulate people putting into words what I had known for years to be true, but was constantly told by the establishment media was not true. And through reading AR I discovered authors like Richard McCulloch, whose books make the moral case for racial consciousness as well as anyone. So sixteen years of police work, many books by racialist authors, and of course, AR, have me “seeing the light” quite clearly.
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.