M. Castrejon, American Renaissance, March 7, 2020
This is part of our continuing series of accounts by readers of how they shed the illusions of liberalism and became race realists.
I was born in America, but my ancestry is Honduran. My parents married in Honduras and immigrated illegally together in the 1980s. They ultimately settled in a small town near Riverside, California, where they raised me and my two siblings. We grew up poor. My dad was a truck driver and my mom was usually at home raising us. She was a strict parent, and always emphasized the importance of doing well in school. It paid off: all three of her children are now college graduates doing well in their careers.
College was where I first started to think about race. Certain things were immediately obvious to me, like that Asians were the biggest demographic on campus because they’re generally quite smart. But other racial patterns took me longer to understand. I was one of the only Hispanics in my dorm, a fact I didn’t find meaningful at first. However, when my dorm-mates and I discussed our high school achievements, I discovered that I had a lower GPA than all of them, and had done much worse on the SAT and ACT. Despite this, I was attending college for free through federal and state grants, while my friends had to work or borrow money from their parents to pay their tuition. It was then that I realized that affirmative action had helped me immensely.
I studied biology as an undergraduate, which meant my classes were relatively free of “social justice” propaganda — but I still had to deal with other students who were steeped in it. One instance that made a big impression on me was when an Indian dorm-mate posted something on Facebook about how a player on his fantasy football team had been arrested in real life. I left a comment on the post that went something like, “There are mainly black people in the NFL, and blacks do more crime than most, so it’s understandable that he would commit the crime.” I had been learning about statistics and probability, and was happy to apply it to something in real life — but my friend was outraged, deleted my comment, called me a racist, and blocked me. Later on, we spoke about it in person and reconciled, but it was still striking to me that stating something so obvious could cause such a problem.
As a biology major, I learned that race is not “skin-deep” the way so many people claim. It is not just melanin or skin tone that sets us apart, but so much more: height, hair growth, digestive abilities, resistance to disease, presence of hormones, facial characteristics, and even cognitive functions. All biology majors know that DNA yields RNA which gives us the proteins in our bodies, which determine everything else. I was learning all of this in the abstract while seeing examples of it all around me. In the world of biology and sciences, not only was I often the only Hispanic in social and academic settings, sometimes I was the only non-Asian. By the time I graduated, I was a race realist.
However, I didn’t immediately think that that biocentric perspective had any political implications. My entire family is Democrat, and they believe the liberal cliches about the two major parties: Democrats are the party of the poor and non-whites; Republicans are the party of the rich and white. Politics had never interested me very much, so I had never thought critically about any of this. Then, Donald Trump entered the scene and politics became impossible to ignore. As a Honduran born in America, the first thing I wanted to tackle was the claim that he was a “racist,” like so many people were saying. If it were so obvious, I should be able to find an undeniably obvious clip of him being rude or outright mean to Hispanics, blacks or some other group. I went looking for this smoking gun, and, to my complete surprise, I never found it. His notorious comments about crime and criminality in Mexico and Central America are true. My parents had told me all about those things well before Mr. Trump ever did. Smugglers and coyotes are committing crime at our Southern border. Hispanic countries such as Guatemala, El Salvador, Mexico, etc. do have corrupt governments. There are powerful and extremely violent gangs in those countries. These are the main reasons why my parents left their homeland for America. I am extremely fortunate to have been born in the USA, away from all that. Hearing Donald Trump tell the truth about immigration did not offend me at all.
All my life, I had been told that I was the smart kid in the family, the brightest kid in class. But I knew that if I wanted to get even smarter, I needed to engage with ideas that challenged my own assumptions. In 2016, I was still a bit of a Democrat and had a certain tribal loyalty to Hispanics. However, I felt if my beliefs were to remain solid they would have to stand strong against ideas put forth by the other side — so I took a dive into the right. I started with Alex Jones, and to my surprise, I could not get enough, and wanted more! Soon I discovered Paul Joseph Watson, James Allsup, Stefan Molyneux, Gavin McInnis, Lauren Southern, RedIceTV, Red Elephants with Vincent James, Nick Fuentes, Devon Tracey, Jared Taylor, and even the devil himself — Richard Spencer. At first, I mostly just wanted to understand their ideas in order to better refute them, but when I started doing research into what these people were saying, I realized they were telling the truth.
It was only these dissidents, these “deplorables,” that really understood IQ, crime statistics, wage differences as they relate to race, the problem of censorship, and what really constitutes “fake news.” I now realize how much the mainstream media sensationalizes stories that fit with their worldview, and ignore stories that break with it. When they find a video of a white man cussing out a black girl at a Walmart, they try and make it go viral. But they don’t talk about the countless murders and rapes of young innocent white girls all across the country by black men and illegal immigrants. I cried the first time I heard about the murder of Channon Christian and Christopher Newsom from watching the American Renaissance video, “Do White Lives Matter?” If the media treated us as equals, Channon Gail, Mollie Tibbetts, Kate Steinle and so many other victims like them would have gotten the attention they deserve — but the media doesn’t care when the victim is white. At the same time, they perpetuate the myth that America is a white supremacist country that holds back people like me. I don’t buy it. I have never felt oppressed because of my race. I did my best in high school, and my reward was all expenses paid undergraduate degree at a prestigious public university, in no small part because I am not white.
Some of my family members consider me a “race traitor” because of my new-found beliefs (and my MAGA hat), but that is far from being the case. Aside from my Asian college friends, everybody in my social circles is Hispanic, as am I — we all eat beans, speak Spanish, watch soccer and grew-up attending Mexican churches. This culture I’m a part of has its problems: I have friends whose criminality landed them dead or in prison, but it is still indelibly mine, even if I sometimes feel more comfortable in “white society” than my own.
I am extremely fortunate to not only be born in the United States, but also be intelligent enough to see through the victim mentality my people are indoctrinated into holding. American Renaissance gives me hope. AmRen speaks the truth and demolishes most every liberal myth afflicting the US. Whites should have every right to defend themselves, establish their own home, and reproduce amongst themselves to ensure their people survive. It is impossible to fault whites for not wanting to be overwhelmed by Hispanics and all the dangers they bring with them. I like the white world, and wish it all the best.
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.