How I Became an Advocate for White Wellbeing
Guy White, American Renaissance, February 5, 2022
This is part of our continuing series of accounts by readers of how they shed the illusions of liberalism and became race realists.
Back in the 1990s, after a personal financial calamity, I found myself looking for an affordable place to live near an urban center where I worked. I picked an area that had delightful architecture, which was once a white neighborhood, but had become a predominantly non-white one during the previous 40 years.
Rents were low and in my price range and I hoped to eventually be able to purchase a home. As I’d been raised to believe “multicultural” anti-white nonsense, I approached my new neighbors with what I thought was no preconceived expectations of their behavior or attitude — but I now realize I fully expected them to have my white sensibilities.
I soon had a litany of personal experiences to educate me. First, my car was broken into. Then fast talking non-white woman bamboozled my trusting, elderly father who lived with me into letting her in to “use the restroom” while I was at work — of course, the house was burgled in the process. Our mail service was terrible, important letters were put in other people’s boxes and we got theirs. When I complained to the USPS, the non-white mail carrier made sure the service got even worse. There were a host of other encounters with non-whites, from sales clerks, to insurance agents, to real estate agents, and more that consistently kicked dirt in my face when it came to my expectations of proper behavior and manners.
After a few years, I purchased my dream fixer-upper in the same neighborhood (I guess you could call me a slow learner) a 100-year-old grand Victorian. I spent two years remodeling and renovating, doing 95 percent of the work myself and brought this stately home back to life. It was my pride and joy. What was the reaction from the predominantly non-white neighbors? I thought, surely they would be delighted that someone has taken an interest in their neighborhood and invested time, money, and energy. Wrong. The front yard I lovingly restored was received with hails of broken liquor bottles. Someone defecated on my front porch. Someone else poisoned my dog. Other white neighbors got similar treatment.
The noise level on our block was beyond anything tolerable by even the most deaf of individuals. “Boom-Boom” cars with their stereos blasting rap, screaming family fights, disrespectful and destructive children, and gunshots were everyday occurrences. The Fourth of July was always the absolute worst. For weeks, the neighborhood was under siege and sounded like a war zone. I started planning vacations to coincide with that time of year, so as to be out of town. I’d tried speaking civilly to the culprits, then tried calling the police. Nothing worked and the police informed me I was living in the equivalent of the Wild Wild West and to think of myself as a homesteader.
After many years of intolerable conditions, the neighborhood became the up and coming darling of a new generation of well to do professionals. I was finally able to sell the home for a very good price and move. I moved to an area that is 90 percent white and my stress evaporated. No outrageous noise, no obnoxious people, no decrepit homes and yards, no constant fight or flight response going on inside me.
I wanted to understand what had changed, what was so completely different about where I’d lived and where I’d moved. I found AmRen and read Jared Taylor’s book White Identity, then read his other books. I found other books, websites and podcasts and realized the difference was race and that forced multiracialism does not work. My journey of introspection on this topic has taken me many places and when I adopted the model of Jason Kohne’s “Going Free,” I realized that putting white wellbeing first and foremost in my life changes everything. Placing the wellbeing of our people as my highest value made my world recalibrate and function properly. I am now an advocate for white wellbeing, doing what I can to help our people reclaim our destiny.
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.
