Mary Rowland is thirty-three and single and lives in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains in northern California. She is self-employed, operating a business out of her home.

Until a couple of years ago, I lived in southern California, so my socialization was all in that area of the country. I was raised a liberal and was a liberal activist in my twenties. I was primarily involved with conservation issues, but sometimes that would prod me into getting involved with other causes, like Indian rights. If they had a dump a mile from an Indian reservation, I might write a letter to the editor or something pointing out that this was environmental racism. 

My first movement out of a strictly liberal position was around the issue of overcrowding. We have had so much population growth that the quality of the environment has declined. It became clear to me where the overcrowding problem was coming from, and that was Hispanic immigration from Mexico. There’s hardly any European immigration now, so that isn’t really an issue. But I decided it wasn’t possible to say, “OK, let’s stop immigration from non-white countries and keep immigration from Europe.” So I started speaking out and writing about stopping all immigration, and again, it was from a conservation angle.

It wasn’t long and my fellow conservation activists started pushing me away and whispering “racist.” They’d say things like, “Isn’t your position the same as [former Ku Klux Klan member and alleged racist] David Duke’s?” I knew virtually nothing about David Duke at that time, but I got the basic idea. People started shunning me, and I got to be pretty much on their hit list. I realized from that experience that for the liberal crowd multiculturalism takes precedence over everything else, including the quality of the environment. Things finally got so uncomfortable for me that I resigned from my position on the board of the conservation organization I was in.

The immigration issue is what got me looking more at cultural and racial matters, and that led to the development of my own racial consciousness and racialism. For one thing, I noticed that when you look at the people who promote conservation in this country, they are predominately European Americans. I also started noticing things like in San Jose they replaced the Liberty Bell with a statue of Montezuma, the Aztec emperor. I thought about how in wars the conquerors start changing the street names and tearing down the reputation of the conquered people’s founders. I realized that I was seeing that happen in my own country. So I started being concerned about the bigger picture. My kids, if I ever have them, are they going to be welcome in this country? Their forefathers died to secure this country for them. Are they going to walk around like they are strangers, like they are aliens here? I started asking questions like that.

I also saw what was happening in my own neighborhood. In a period of about five years, whites went from like eighty percent to about thirty percent. It had been a lower-middle income community with a lot of older people, but as soon as Mexicans started moving in, things started really breaking down. Young minority families moved in, and as soon as their kids hit their teen years, they began robbing people’s houses and mugging old people, and so all those who could afford to move did.

I had to deal with racial harassment against me. I was a young woman with blond hair and blue eyes. I’d be walking down the street in my own neighborhood and a group of Mexicans would make sexual and racial comments to me. Or I’d be walking down the street and there would be black guys loitering on the side of the street, and one of them would say, “Hey baby, once you go black you’ll never go back.” There were other incidents where they wouldn’t make a racial comment, but they would follow me and try to intimidate me, or they would be walking on the street and I would be walking the other way and they would spread out so I couldn’t get by. I would have to walk way around them. It got to the point where I felt unsafe.

One of the defining moments for me in deciding that I was going to move away was what happened to this young sixteen-year-old white boy. He was about six feet tall with blond hair and blue eyes. He was kind of a wigger, though. The first day he and his mom moved into the community, he was chased down by five Mexicans. They cornered him and said, “We don’t like white boys around here.” He talked his way out of it, but it was a frightening experience. What was happening in the neighborhood was a kind of ethnic cleansing of whites. They start ethnically cleansing you when they become maybe thirty percent of the population. They start harassing your kids. I started getting really agitated all the time and I knew I had to leave. I would come home and see in the pool of the complex I was in thirty Mexican kids and one little white girl. I just wanted to get out of there.

What really gets to me is how they say people are racists because they have never experienced diversity. The vast majority of racialists I know have experienced diversity first hand and that is it why they became racialists. I don’t dislike people as individuals. It is the collective effect that their group has on my people and my culture that concerns me. If we are replaced by Mexicans, it’s going to look like Mexico here and be like Mexico. I believe that the Mexican people and everyone else have a right to exist. But I also believe I should have a place where my kids can grow and prosper and not be forced to listen to “booga-booga” music and have black boys crammed down their throats. You can’t even turn on the television and watch a commercial without hearing the sound of a black male singing or doing a voice-over. Our kids are being turned into wiggers. That is what they are being taught in place of the culture that made whites the most civilized and prosperous people on earth.

I remember one thing I did before I left southern California and moved up here that marked a turning point for me. I never had the nerve to do anything like it before because I was raised to be a nice, cooperative community member and somebody who doesn’t make waves. I used to go to a Barnes & Noble bookstore and look at their bargain shelf. One time, I saw a book titled 101 Redneck Jokes. I walked up the manager and I said, “Sir, do you have any nigger joke books?” He looked at me shocked. “No!” And then I handed him the joke book and said, “Well, then you shouldn’t have this one.”

How do you transmit your way of life and good values to your children? You promote good healthy cultural activities. You teach your children their ethnic heritage, their music. I was never taught the history of my people, the Celts. I’ve come to understand that a lot of who and what I am has to do with who they were a thousand years ago. The educational establishment makes it sound as if average Europeans who migrated here were the elite. The elite, much of the time, were not kind. They weren’t even kind to their own people. But Europeans who came here weren’t all elite. Many of my people—Scots and Irish—came here literally in chains or as indentured servants. They had done something considered criminal or got into debt and they were sent here to work off their debt to society. But they got through it, and they and their descendents went on to do great things.

Everybody who is white is pegged as being responsible for black slavery. For one thing, a very small percentage of the Southern landowners were slave owners. And besides that, the Moors, who were part black, enslaved my people, and the Mongols attacked Europe and enslaved my people when they had the opportunity. When they talk about the Indians, I’ll talk about the Mongols. I’m not going to feel guilt for anything, not any more.

Today, our kids are learning about African history, and when they teach about European history they teach about slavery and other negative things designed to harm the self-esteem of white children. Whatever is on television or in the paper or anywhere else that’s mainstream, and especially what is taught to our kids in schools, is presented in a negative context. For example, there’s our war with the Indians. What they don’t point out is that basically it was a military war with the Indians. The people I identify with aren’t the soldiers. I identify with the pioneers, the people who were trying to live in peace. Maybe their wagon trains or their homes were attacked and the wife had her throat slit and their baby was stolen. They don’t stress that the Europeans were industrious and inventive people, or that they developed great technology or created this or that vaccine. No, they must tell people that evil “Whitey” spread disease on purpose to kill Indians. They try to make it sound like white people, the most tolerant people on earth, are inherently evil and inherently anti-conservation and so on. I used to passively accept this kind of stuff. After a while, though, I started becoming really fed up. They pushed me the other direction. I realized that this culture promoted racism against whites, not vice versa.

There’s good and bad with my people, so am I supposed to only identify with them when it comes to negative things? I am going to identify with positive things and I am going to stand up for my people, white people. When I was at my friend’s house yesterday, I came across an article about a group called the European American Issues Forum. A reporter from a San Francisco newspaper wrote in the first sentence, “Oh, here’s a group of people who say that they, as white people, are discriminated against.” And then right after that sentence, she wrote, “Yes, the people who came here and exterminated the Indians.” That’s what she put in the article! I thought to myself when I read that, “When you talk about blacks, are you going to say these are the people whose ancestors were cannibals?”

We do live in a racist society. It’s just that we’re the only acceptable victims of it. I feel like a war of extermination is being conducted against us, I really do. They want to kill us kindly. They want you to marry an Asian and have a half Asian baby. They want me to marry a black and have mulatto babies. If I have kids, they are going to be white and they are going to be raised in a white community. They are not going to be raised in a multicultural community. I don’t want anybody telling my kids at a young age that they are bad people and that their ancestors were dishonorable.

I’m thinking now that white people need a separate area where we can reproduce and live amongst our own and practice our traditional cultures. I’m not talking about a situation where it is like, “We claim this area for Aryans and anyone who tries to come in we’re going to shoot you.” It’s more like people all moving to the same area. I’m planning to leave California next year. It’s nice now where I am, but I want to leave while I am still young instead of when I am old and it’s unbearable, when, to be blunt, the Mexicans move up here. We are already getting graffiti. There are a lot of beautiful natural places here and some lovely little towns, but they are coming up here and spraying their scrawl on everything in sight and vandalizing our schools. It’s terrible.

This morning, it was reported in the paper that “hate flyers” were found in—I don’t remember which state it was. I think the flyers were the ones the National Alliance distributes that say, “White people are an endangered species.” Somebody does something as innocuous as that somewhere and I find out in California the next day. But most people didn’t find out about what happened in Cincinnati, where about three hundred blacks blocked off a street and started pulling white people out of their cars and beating them up. The media always tries to cover up things like that. The people who control what we read and see on television in this country don’t want white people to wake up. Hate knows no color—hate’s not just a white thing. All racially aware white people aren’t haters. What I am about isn’t hate. I’m about love for my people and the heritage they have passed down to me to preserve and enhance.

I am a white separatist, not supremacist. I prefer to be around my own folk and practice my own folkways. That does not mean I am a bad person. In fact, I am basically a warm-hearted and generous person. I simply direct my love toward my own people in the same way other races do toward their own people. I will no longer be made to feel guilty for that. That doesn’t mean I won’t have a working relationship with someone outside my race, but that is all it will be. When you are a racialist, you can’t have interracial friendships or love relationships and still be consistent. At least I can’t.

I would like to have a family and children, but it is tough to find an appropriate man given my racialist perspective. There just aren’t many men who see things as I do. And even if I found one of them, or at least someone who could accept me for who I am, there are all the other qualifications they must meet. I have very high standards around the way men think about women and the way they treat them and whether they are goal-oriented or not. A man I would marry would have to be hardworking and not an alcoholic or take drugs. I used to smoke but I quit, and I now I won’t even accept smokers. So it’s tough. And needless to say, the man I have children with will have to be white. I never bought the idea of interracial relationships that Hollywood is selling so hard to young people. Even before I was racially conscious, I never considered an interracial relationship. I simply wasn’t attracted to non-whites, and on some level I knew it was wrong despite having been raised to seek out and befriend minorities. Continuing the white race is a non-negotiable for me. I feel a strong moral obligation to have white children and make up for the feminist who has none.

Sometimes I wonder if what I have been through around race has taken my humanity away from me some and made me tougher to be around, which could be getting in the way of meeting a good man. Maybe if there weren’t such immigration and multicultural overkill I would be the compassionate, generous person that I want to be toward everyone. All this has made me rougher around the edges. I mean, now I’ll see a story about Jose Fuertes and his thirteen kids no longer having anywhere to live because there was a fire and they were burned out of their two bedroom apartment and I don’t go, “Oh, how sad” like most people. I go, “My God, thirteen people?! Deport them all!!” Had Jose only had one child and his entire country wasn’t moving in on us, I would feel compassion for his and his peoples’ plight.

When I was in Frisco last week, I was looking at the architecture and I thought, “This a beautiful place.” But look who is going to inherit it. My people built this country, and now these people have come in and my people are expected to put out the welcome mat and teach them how to take the reins of this society. They don’t want to have anything to do with our culture, but they want to benefit from the society and infrastructure we created, all the while calling us names and accusing us of racism. Well, yeah, now I am a racist, Jose! If they say we were here first, this is Aztlan [the name Mexicans give to the Southeast United States], my attitude is, if you want it back I’m going to scorch the entire state and you can have it back the way it was when you were here dirt, clay, and leaf huts. I know that maybe sounds harsh, but that is how I’ve become.

I can’t say that I’m completely happy right now, but I’m not totally unhappy either, because I’m out in the country and not in the midst of the multicult cesspool as I was before. I was very unhappy in the city. But I know they will soon be “coming up the hill” toward me. I’m going to leave the state. Hopefully, my moving to a snowy, economically depressed area will keep them at bay.

I just want to live a normal life, preferably with a family, but if I can’t have that, a life with good friends in a community where I feel safe and I’m free to walk down the street without looking over my shoulder. I just want to be able to express pride in my people and admiration for our white ancestors and to continue their traditions without minority harassment and interference. When I am really old, I want to live in peace instead of like those old people in the neighborhood where I used to live who are eighty-ninety years old without the energy or the money to escape.

Laura Hayes * is thirty -four years old and lives with her husband near Tampa, Florida. They have no children. Laura is about to complete a graduate program in business administration and works part-time as a sales clerk.

I was raised in northern Indiana and had contact with very few minorities growing up. There were some blacks that had spilled over from the Chicago area living there, but they tended to stay in a separate area of town. I would see them shopping, but that was about it. There were a few Asians who I believe worked at a nearby science laboratory, but I didn’t have any contact with them either. That area is now heavily settled with Hispanics, but there were none there when I was growing up.

There were no minority children in the elementary, middle, or secondary parochial schools I attended. A few black people went to the church I attended, but they had the same decorum as the others in the church, and so I really didn’t give it a thought. As for interracial dating, there was an understanding that they are who they are and we are who we are and interracial dating or sex just isn’t appropriate. But that was all unstated. Nobody ever told me that. It just wasn’t part of my thinking growing up to have dated out of my color.

Really, race wasn’t a concern when I was young. Remember, this was a couple of decades ago, and all the government agendas weren’t being rammed down our throats as they are now—multiculturalism, intolerance, diversity, immigration, and so on—or at least they weren’t where I was in Indiana. As for the media promoting any kind of racial agenda, I suppose it was there, but I don’t remember it registering with me at that time. Thinking back on it, I didn’t have what could be called a racial identity in those years. Nearly all of the people I was around were white. I was white. I didn’t think about it. That is just the way it was.

When I was young, life just kind of rolled along. We were all marching to the same drummer, I guess you could say. We shared a definition of the world. We were all clean and orderly and law-abiding. We all dressed nearly the same. We were friendly to one another. We went to one another’s houses. We felt safe and secure. Doors were left open. I never worried about violence or shootings at school. I knew that, in years past, in the 1960s and ’70s, the public high schools in town had suffered racial tension, but I was sheltered from that kind of thing during my years in school. I didn’t have to ponder what was going on in society, think, “Oh, I see a trend here,” anything like that. I was typical of the kids I grew up with. We just lived our lives.

College for me was also in northern Indiana. There were some blacks there and I did have a sense of their difference, their “otherness.” They spoke differently and had a different way about them. But again, I didn’t really think about it. It just was. After I left college, I moved to southern California and lived there for four years. That area was much more of a melting pot than I had been in. I was brought into contact with many different types of people. But people pretty much stayed in their own group. There was no rioting or anything like that when I was in California—this was after the Rodney King violence. I was in my mid-twenties at that time. No racial light had come on up to that point.

While I was in California, a friend of mine invited me to go with her to some Bo Gritz seminars. His focus was on government conspiracies and cover-ups and self-sufficiency and survival. He didn’t have a racial agenda, although I did notice that there were no blacks at his meetings. I found the Gritz meetings very informative. They were a consciousness-raising experience. “Ohhh,” I thought to myself. “There are things going on in this world you are not aware of! The world isn’t always as it has been sold to you.” That got through to me. Gritz emphasized taking the time to stay abreast of public affairs and I started to do that.

I moved back to Indiana to be near my family and went back to school and I was working, but despite a very busy schedule, I did what I could to keep up with what was going on in the world. One thing I did was subscribe to a publication called The Aware Woman’s Newsletter. It had a personals column, and that is how I met my husband. He and I never talked about race when we were getting to know each other. It was when we moved to Florida after we got married that he started talking to me about things he was reading in a magazine he subscribed to, American Renaissance. It was at this point that my racial consciousness light came on. From then on, it has gotten brighter and brighter.

I started to read some of the issues of American Renaissance that were around the house. There were articles about the extent of black-on-white crime and other things that were not being reported in the mainstream media. “Oh my goodness!” I thought. “The media and the government aren’t telling us things!”

I’ve also started reading articles on the American Patrol web site and other sites. I asked myself, “Why aren’t the mainstream media talking about the things these Internet sites are covering?”

As time went along, I reached the conclusion that the media are never going to talk about these things because there is a large governmental campaign of some sort that the media are part of. And what is that campaign about? Nothing less than an attempt to ruin the civilization white Europeans have built in this country. Maybe I’m tying too many things together and going overboard and being too radical, but that is what I think.

I was reading someone’s views on a web site recently, and he talked about the mongrelization of the white person. I thought that was a good term for what is going on. We are being fed the idea from every quarter—movies, television, newspapers, everywhere—that it is OK to marry interracially and have interracial children. We are being told by the politicians that we should embrace all the non-white immigrants that are pouring into our country. We are being fed the line that everybody’s equal and they aren’t. Socrates and Aristotle were white. The people who developed penicillin and invented the airplane and the computer were white. White people can think. I know it is unfashionable to say that, but it is true. It gets me on my high horse the way the schools are rewriting history. It really gets to me that we can’t point with pride to all the white geniuses. White people have been the victors in history, but now in school children go through these exercises where they are supposed to relate to how the losing side felt so, I guess, they will go over to their side. We are not going to stay the winners doing that.

We are losing touch with our heritage as a race, and I don’t think it is just a matter of chance that that it’s happening. I know this sounds radical, but I think there is an attempt to do no less than obliterate the white race. I read somewhere that white people are only eight percent of the world’s population. I think there are people out there that would like to see us be no percent of the world’s population. I think there is an attempt to dumb us down, soften us up, and interbreed us with blacks and Hispanics. Then, after a few generations, we’ll be so stupid and docile we will do whatever the people in charge tell us to do.

As for the government we have now, I think it is a crock, a farce. The current president [George W. Bush] is a one-worlder. His take on it is that what is good for the immigrants is good for America. Hogwash. The Hispanics pouring into this country now, most of them illegal, are different from the European people who came here, in capability, in work ethic, in culture, and in race. Personally, I think Bush is just a front man, in front of the curtain, so to speak, posturing and pandering to the crowd. I think all the politicians report to some kind of New World Order group who is pulling the strings. I really do. I think we are being maneuvered into becoming one big globalized, mongrelized melting pot, and part of that is tearing down everything the white man has stood for and done in this country.

Whoever is behind the curtain, whatever group—and I don’t really know who they are—is very powerful and very insidious and very deadly to the Caucasian race. With all their talk about justice and equality, they are taking advantage of the basic fairness of white people, who are of a kind to have authored the Mayflower Compact and the Magna Carta and the Constitution. We aren’t savages and that has been cleverly used to hurt us, because we are accepting the pitch to be tolerant, be accepting, to be nice. The Mexican people flooding into the country and those who want to re-annex parts of the United States, the Reconquista Movement, they aren’t playing fair, they aren’t being nice.

It is as if we are rolling over and saying, “Rape me again.” It’s incredible. “Whatever you want, we’ll give it to you: our homes, our schools, our jobs.” Several states are talking about giving in-state college tuition rates to illegal immigrants. That’s ridiculous. And even that won’t be the end of it. They will hire Hispanic faculty, discriminating against white applicants in the process, and these faculty will teach students what the war in Texas war was “really” about and what they should do about it. English as a foreign language programs will have to be put in place, and “Whitey” will pay for them. The parents won’t be able to afford the tuition, and Whitey will pay it. The students will default on their loans, and Whitey will pay them off.

Whoever is behind the curtain is really clever, I’ll give them that. I find it fascinating the way multiculturalism gets us trashing ourselves. Its gotten us to go on and on about all the terrible things we have done in the past and are doing now. Multiculturalism gets us to accept, and even invite, minorities blaming us for every problem they have. We wind up looking after others’ welfare and serving their interests while we ignore our own. That is really clever. They have it so that we can’t say anything positive about our race, our heritage, our culture, because that is white supremacy, and we can’t say anything negative about minorities because that is racism. This has all happened quite recently, because even when I was growing up it wasn’t in place the way it is now.

Go to the American Patrol web site sometime. It is run by Glenn Spencer. His site is mostly on immigration, although it does touch a little on whiteness. He points out that since 1965, ninety percent of immigration to this country has been non-white. The American Patrol site is a daily account of the ludicrous. We are supposed to give amnesty to millions of immigrants, which will only encourage more illegals to come across the border. I read in Spencer’s site that they are actually putting water tanks in the dry areas so that the illegal immigrants from Mexico won’t get thirsty.

The question I ask of myself is, once they ruin all the things European people have built up in this country and it becomes just like the place they came from —poor infrastructure, no education, gutted economy, bad medical care, crime, and so on—where are they going to go then? There won’t be any more European people to exploit.

I have been trying to stay abreast of things mainly through the Internet—governmental conspiracies, immigration, white nationalism, those areas mainly. And I talk with my husband and some of his friends. This has been going on for the last two or three years, and it has affected my perception greatly, and some of my choices in life. Even though I know that I am going to be vilified, if I am in a conversation that leans in the direction of any of these issues, I will make one or two leading statements. But I can’t say they have any effect. I can’t undo all the brainwashing people have been through. The people I come into contact with day-to-day find some movie star more credible on racial matters than they do me. Everything nowadays is glitter and glamour and fluff. There is no substance.

And I have to say I think women are more susceptible to what we are being sold. Put a morally high sounding and emotional spin on something and women will buy into it. That is how you sell them something. “Do it for the children”—tell them that. It will get them every time. But what women ought to be asking is at what cost, what is going to come out of this?

I am not involved in big crusades right now. I’m not in any organizations or anything or taking on any big projects. I’m trying to make my marriage work and get through school, and I have a clerking job to bring in some money, and that keeps me tied up. But there have been small, personal changes in me. I’m more aware now than before of where I conduct my business and where I live. I’m thankful we live a little bit out of town, and I think a lot about where we will live in the future. I am more conscious of my connection to the media. I realize, for instance, that minorities are portrayed as virtuous and in need. They have been done wrong, send money now. I notice how ads and television shows—especially UPN—show interracial relationships involving white women especially. I wouldn’t have picked up on that before.

Except for my husband, I haven’t found anyone to link with who shares my outlook. A few of my husband’s friends think like he does, so that is helpful to him. Maybe I am missing some people I could relate to because I don’t exactly announce my views loudly to the world. That can get you in trouble. My point of view is not something you want to wear on your sleeve. And if I did say something, most people these days are so busy and stressed they don’t have time to think about anything but getting along day to day.

Where I grew up and my parents are still living, the black areas are still there, but compared to what it was like when I was in California, they aren’t all that scary. You can drive through them on your way to some other destination and it’s OK. I understand from my parents that the area has been heavily settled by Hispanics due to all the manufacturing in that area. To me, that is very sad. I see it as the disintegration of a good Caucasian area. My mother tells me that some apartment complexes that used to be all white are now all Hispanic and that they are unkempt. She says she notices the communication barriers in stores now.

One of the girls in my high school class married a black. My father saw her recently in town and she has three children. But that is an exception among the people in my hometown. That is in contrast to the large percentage of the population doing that now. I read in the paper today that a number of national companies are putting together marketing strategies specially targeted at mixed-race couples and biracial children because there are so many of them. Personally, when I am in Target or somewhere and I see a blond woman with a black man and mulatto children, I want to go up to her and ask, “Why?”

It breeds disgust in me to see what the people in charge of our society are doing. And what is even more disgusting to me is to see people accepting it. “Oh, it is so wonderful that we are all alike.” No, we’re not. No, we’re not! Where I go to school now to get my masters degree, the classes are about sixty percent black. I can tell there is a difference in intelligence level–-the blacks just aren’t getting the material. I wonder how they are passing the program.

I’m hit with what is going on in this society everywhere I go. I have to deal with it where I shop, everywhere. I call an 800 number and get put on hold forever by someone with an accent I can barely understand and with an indifferent and vaguely hostile attitude. Bushes, trees, cats, and every non-white human on the planet is favored over me. It gets frustrating. Sometimes I envy the ignorant and happy people who have no clue about what is happening to our country and our race.

There is some fear in me about really stepping out and being heard and doing something. Maybe some of that fear is because I am a woman and I wouldn’t be as afraid if I were a man, I don’t really know. I know I would prefer not having my tires slashed or being shot at. Beyond that, I am a shy person. I’m just not a public person. I can imagine a day when I will be asked to put my finances, reputation, and life on the line and do what I can for the cause, but I don’t know if that is the hill I want to die on.

I’m getting my masters degree in a few months and I would like to do work that goes along with my beliefs, but right now I don’t see any possibilities along that line. As a practical matter, I have to earn a decent salary, if nothing else so that “Cleotis” and “Consuela” can live nicely. Those parasites are taking my paycheck! They are squeezing the white middle class out of existence! If I can find work that reflects my beliefs and values, that would be great. If not, I will find as good a fit as possible. When things aren’t so hectic in my life, I hope I can do volunteer work in this general area.

My husband and I have talked about what we are going to do given the circumstance in the world. We always keep the option open of just going off somewhere to get away from all this. We could go to Wyoming or someplace like that, but like most people, we have to be within reasonable distance of where the jobs are. And there is the financial aspect of selling our home and all the logistics involved with relocating somewhere. There are a lot of roadblocks to get around. Ideally though, it would be good to live in a small community of like-minded people in a remote area. We would be with people we wanted to be around and we’d have support, and if things got really bad we could sell, trade, and barter among ourselves.

It would be good if I could say where I’ll be ten years from now, but the truth is all of my life I have never seen more than one step in front of me. I think of myself as an intelligent person, and I ask myself, what is my problem? Although a lot of people I know don’t know what they want to do when they grow up. There is a character in Winnie the Poo named Eeyore who all the time wails, “Oh me, oh my!” I’ll never be like that. I’ll always diligently shuffle ahead. I’ll keep forging ahead in the fog holding a lantern up high. I don’t know where I will end up, but things will unfold a little bit at a time.

Carolyn Davies* is fifty-three and a widow and lives in Massachusetts after spending most of her life in Texas. She works for the government in the area of social services.

My first awareness that there were different races came when I was a little girl, about five or six. This was in the mid-1950s. We were living in California. We hadn’t moved to the South yet. We visited my mother’s relatives in Texas. I went downtown with my mother and my two aunts. We went to a department store and they were talking and shopping and I was just sort of looking around like children do, and I noticed that they had two water fountains on the wall. One of them had a sign that said “colored.” I had never seen anything like that before, so I ran up to my mother and said, “Oh mommy, they have colored water over there! Can I have some?” My mother was a very sweet, precious, loving Christian person who didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She tried to explain to me what colored people were and why here in Texas colored people had to drink out of different fountains and go to different bathrooms. She was very calm and gentle, but it was just sort of like I had never heard of such a thing. It was just so foreign to me. That moment has stuck with me. It is one of a few memories I have from when I was very young.

My family traveled a lot with my dad’s work—all over the country and in Canada—and eventually we moved to Texas when I was in high school. It was a white school, but they had hand-picked about ten exceptional black students from black schools to go there. One of them had good speech and debate talent and those were areas I was interested in, so I got to know him quite well from our various activities. He was a really nice kid. I remember one time when we were coming back from a speech tournament. We dropped him off at his house and it was in a really run-down area of town, and he seemed sort of embarrassed. I thought how difficult it must be for him. It was like he was on display. He had to be perfect. He had to prove to the white people that he was acceptable and like us, and there was his really dilapidated house. I don’t know, it just really dug at me somehow, and it has stayed with me ever since.

In the fall of 1967, I went off to a private liberal arts college in Minnesota. When I got there, I was assigned a black roommate, a real sweet girl from Chicago. Looking back on it, I suppose they put me with her thinking something like, “Oh, this poor ignorant person from the South”—me—”we have to save her because she must be a horrible bigot,” which I wasn’t. I don’t think it was just an accident that the one person in the school from the South is the only white person who ended up with a black roommate. She was on a full scholarship and she studied really hard. She was very cliquish with the other dozen or so black students on campus. Sometimes they would come to our room and that was fine with me, it was her room, too. I realized how difficult it was for the black students. They were on trial. They had to succeed. They couldn’t miss a class. They had to make good grades.

The college I went to had very high academic standards. Probably most students who went there were in the top ten percent of their high school class. The black students may have been the top students in their high schools, but I don’t think they were on the same level as the white students. So they had to work really hard to prove that they could keep up with the rest of us. My roommate was under so much pressure, even from the other black students. I remember them calling her an “oreo” a couple of times and that really hurt her. I just think it was very hard for her.

When I got out into the world, I became a social worker. I had grown up in a family with a lot of advantages. Not so much financially—we did okay, we were comfortable, but we weren’t wealthy or anything —but we had background and breeding. We had a great deal of pride in our family history, our British heritage. I was taught that as a Christian I should have a Christ-like serving nature. I wanted to do for others who didn’t have the benefits I did. As a social worker, I worked for a number of years with all types of people— abused children, senior citizens in nursing homes, severely handicapped and developmentally disabled people, and mentally ill in a children’s psychiatric hospital. This was in Texas. I had moved back there.

My clients were from all different backgrounds: black and Hispanic and lower class white. Frankly, over time I started to become disillusioned with them. I saw that they had different desires and different ways than what I had expected and hoped. A lot of them, I came to realize, didn’t really want to solve their problems and really didn’t have much of any impulse to do anything to better themselves. More than anything, they just wanted someone to do things for them and take care of them so they didn’t have to have any responsibility for their lives. I saw that the basic caliber of people really differs, that it isn’t just that some have situations that hold them back and keep them down. Like everybody else, I had been brainwashed in college to think that everybody is basically equal. Your parents mortgage the farm to send you off to college to learn from these people, and so you assume the professors know what they are talking about and that they are telling you the truth, which I eventually found out they weren’t.

When I was growing up, there were people who were from abused homes. There were people whose parents were alcoholics. There were people whose fathers or mothers had abandoned them. But they had exposure in school and in church and with their friends to what a normal life is like. That gave them the opportunity to see, “I don’t have to stay in this kind of a life, I can do better.” Years ago, people wanted to try to do better, and parents—no matter how poor they were, no matter how bad their situation was—worked hard to give their children something a little bit better than what they had.

So many of the parents I worked with seemed perfectly happy for their children to stay in the horrible situations they were in. We have fourth and fifth generation welfare families now. We have parents who don’t care if their children do even worse in life than they did. That, to me, is the problem. And I think that there’s a lot of racial and ethnic influence in that. Whites are taking on the standards of minorities. I don’t think that is exclusively what is going on—the way the welfare system operates contributes to the problem —but I do believe it is a big factor. Although, for that matter, to a big extent the current welfare system is an accommodation to black and Hispanic approaches to life, so there is a racial dimension there too.

In Texas, where I lived until recently when I moved to Massachusetts, I had a lot of experience working with Hispanics and blacks. Particularly with black people, in their philosophy or value system, being a jerk is great. You know, being rude and crude and foul-mouthed and putting people down and being irresponsible, the way you see it in the black recording artists and the athletic stars now—that’s what I mean. Blacks take pride in being that way. There’s something admirable about it to them. It’s like they no longer have to meet our standards, white standards. They can do whatever they want and if we don’t like it, there’s something wrong with us.

I’m going to sound like I am a hundred I know, but when I was growing up, people had manners. Everyone was expected to behave in a certain way. People who didn’t were looked down upon or ostracized. It wasn’t acceptable to be crude or rude or obnoxious or foul-mouthed. I think it started with Muhammad Ali. At least that’s the first person I can ever remember behaving like that, like so many kids especially act today, and I’m talking about white kids. Ali was a very bright young black man who had a tremendous physical talent in his boxing, but he was also a smart-mouthed jackass. We accepted that and even loved him for it and thought it was fabulous that he did that. There were black celebrities at that time like [singers] Lena Horne and Leslie Uggams, and you had Arthur Ashe in tennis, for example. They were all very much ladies and gentlemen. But Muhammad Ali came around and made it cool to be smart-mouthed and smart-alecky.

So I do see the influence of race and different value systems helping to diminish our culture and our country. I’ll give you another example of the kind of thing I am talking about. The apartment complex where I was living had been all white, but then the composition started changing. Some new neighbors moved in next to me who were from Mexico. I’d say “Good morning” and “How are you?” and they would just smile and say “Thank you”—they didn’t speak much English. They had almost no furniture. It was a family of a husband and wife and three kids, but there were ten or twelve other Mexican people over there all the time. They would all go out and sit out on the stairs and drink Cokes and eat candy and throw trash and garbage all over the place. When I tried to get in and out, I could barely do it because they were sitting there. The kids would stare in my windows. Their daughter and her boyfriend would hang out in their apartment when she got off school and they would scream and have fights and curse at each other. Many times, they would do it right outside my window. One time, I thought the young lady might be being abused or something and I asked her if she was all right, did she want me to call the police or her parents. “No!” she shouted at me and started back screaming obscenities at her boyfriend.

Black people also started moving into the apartment complex and it started getting to where they would come through at two or three in the morning with their car stereos blasting and having wild parties and things like that. Yelling and screaming and swearing and carrying on was normal for them. And I guess they have a right to live that way, but I don’t want them underneath me or next door to me. I got tired of listening to it and picking up trash. I just don’t want to live like that. I started to think that if I wanted a decent life I would have to run away from these people. And why should I have to do that? Why can’t they live up to my standards instead of me having to leave in order to get away from their standards?

I remember saying to a friend one time, “I just can’t stand being around black people who are so crude and vulgar and foul-mouthed and overbearing and obnoxious.” Before she could get on her high horse and say, “How dare you say such a thing?” I said, “But I don’t like white people who are like that either.” So for me it is not so much the race or the ethnicity, it’s the behavior. I don’t like being around vulgar, low-class people, period. I like being around upper class people or nice, normal, decent middle class people.

I was making a fairly good living and was able to move from the apartment complex I was in, but there are a lot of Anglo people who aren’t as fortunate as I am and they are still back there living with all that. For example, there were some neighbors who were just lovely people, an elderly couple. She was in her seventies and he was in his eighties and he was very ill. They were really not physically able to move and, secondly, it is very expensive and where would they go? I tried to help them out, but I just wasn’t able to do enough. They were trapped there, so they have to put up with what is going on. It is just awful for them because they had no options.

Back in the early 1990s, I did some volunteer work at a bookstore. It had a lot of things about our founding fathers, what their goals and desires were, the kind of country they wanted to make, and so on, and I spent a lot of time reading those books. I began to be very proud of what they had done and in the fact that my ancestors were part of that. I began to get an even greater pride in my European heritage. Someone in my family did extensive genealogy and found out that one of my ancestors was the first civilian ever knighted in England back in the 1300s. He had saved the life of King Richard during the peasants’ revolt and he was Lord Mayor of London twice. That was so exciting for me to discover. I was just so proud of the people from whom I came and my heritage that, even though that was hundreds of years ago, I felt like it was still in my genes somehow. As my relative delved more deeply, I found out that my family on both sides had been very active in the colonial movement in this country. One of my ancestors had been governor of one of the colonies and things like that. So I began to have a tremendous pride in who I was and where I had come from. I was probably around forty at that point.

I am very patriotic and love America and have great respect for the Founding Fathers, who felt that they had a great gift from God. I think our country was founded on wonderful principles. But now our country’s founders are being portrayed as monsters instead of being revered for the abilities and knowledge and courage and strength they had. I believe America was intended to be a white European country. That doesn’t mean we don’t want anyone here from other races. I don’t want to go back to exclusion and segregation. But I do want people here who love this country and are proud of it, and who want to be Americans and who don’t constantly put this country down and tell us how horrible everybody was and how horrible everybody is now.

I read a lot of things I got from this bookstore about the Frankfurt School kind of theory that is trying to change this country. The Frankfurt School was a group of Jewish scholars in Germany during Hitler’s time and they fled to America. Their ideas are the root of what we call political correctness. The Frankfurt School intellectuals are the ones who started all this about racism and sexism and homophobia and, you know, it’s not acceptable to be proud of who you are if you’re white and it’s not acceptable to feel critical of any groups that do not behave like normal people. I became conscious that what is going on in society isn’t just an accident. Somebody is trying to change America. They are trying to bring about what they would call a utopian world, and that involves destroying the white race, or compromising it, weakening it, taking away its power, its place in things, you know?

I don’t believe the leaders of the politically correct movements have any real desire to help anyone—the civil rights movement, the various homosexual rights movements, and the women’s movement. By the way, what a crock feminism is. Where did all the men go? I think the people at the top of those movements are doing what they are doing for power and control and to destroy what we have so that they can have the kind of world they want. I don’t think they really care about the poor and the masses and the minorities. I think they are basically using them to get what they want. That’s what political correctness is all about. That’s what the Frankfurt School started.

From what I have read, there are people making a conscious effort to create the kind of world our ancestors didn’t want in America. They want the whole world run by an oligarchy of very wealthy, powerful people, and the rest of us will be slaves and serfs and peasants and peons. To do that, they have to destroy the white race and the middle class, and basically America and Europe. I think it’s very conscious, and I don’t think it has anything to do with helping anyone or wanting to right all of the wrongs of the past. It’s very deliberate, and they’re using a lot of good people who do want to right wrongs and correct things for their own purposes. I think that once they achieve what they want, a lot of people are going to be real surprised at what happens to them.

At the bookstore, I would pick up one book and that would lead to another. I read some things about the civil rights movement and I was so shocked. I couldn’t believe some of the things that happened. It wasn’t just a lot of wonderful people trying to solve terrible problems and injustices. When the civil rights marches were going on, I was a teenager and it all seemed so noble to me. And growing up in a very strong Christian household, it was “God loves us all equally”—which I still believe—but now as a mature woman, I’m starting to say, “Wait a minute, this was all a fraud!” I used to think that all the people who came rushing down from the North were wonderful Christian people or great Jewish liberals. That is what we were told by television and everything. But I have read that many of the people who went down there were paid to participate in this movement, and that many of them were disgusting people, foul-mouthed and totally immoral.

Even Martin Luther King, who was supposed to be the greatest saint that ever lived: what his life was really like and what he was really like and what the people around him were really like was disgusting. Some of the things I read were by black authors, so that made me feel like, well, at least it’s not just some members of the Ku Klux Klan or something that are saying that. These are people who were actually part of his movement. I wondered why I had never heard about any of this before. It obviously was being kept from us deliberately.

I remember when I was young somebody saying Dr. King was a communist and everybody jumping all over him: “How could you say that, you awful person?” But then I read that John Kennedy called him to the White House and said, “You’ve got to get rid of your communist advisors,” which King ignored. One of the books I read had a section by a black woman who saw what he was really like. Disgusting sexual practices, horrible! Not at all what you would expect from any Christian much less a minister. I think he may have started out as a sincere black Christian minister who really believed he could do some good, but he was used by people who realized what they could accomplish with him. From what I have read, a lot of it had to do with giving him all the women he wanted, particularly a lot of white women to go to bed with. The FBI file on Dr. King is being withheld from the public until the year 2028, I think it is. Why? What is in that file?

South Texas where I was living has many wonderful aspects to it. The cost of living is low and housing is reasonable, and while the summers are hot, the winters are mild, and there’s no state income tax. But it got so I just didn’t want to live there anymore. I wanted to go to New Hampshire or Montana or someplace, and that’s why I ended up moving and taking a different job, because I wanted to get away to where people are more like me. This was about two years ago when I made my decision. I’m in Massachusetts now, in the central part of the state. But to my dismay, I’m finding that even up here, thousands of Hispanics are flooding in. I guess they came up, or are being brought up, to work in factories or something. I really don’t know.

I love to travel. My goal is to see every state in the United States and to see every capital. I color them off on a map as I finish because I love America so much. Two years ago, I was going through Iowa. There was a big thing when I was there about how they are bringing in hordes of immigrants so that they can work in industries and agriculture. I went through the governor’s mansion on a tour and I had a chance to meet the governor’s wife. I said to her, “Thank you for taking me through your lovely home, and I appreciate the opportunity to meet you, and if I can say one thing to you it’s for heaven’s sake don’t bring all these Hispanic people in. Everybody else is trying to get away from them. Why do you want to bring them in when you have a state that’s ninety-eight percent white?” Her mouth dropped open and she stared at me and pushed me aside. I’m sure that she thought I had lost my mind. But I thought they had lost their minds to have a place where they didn’t have any of them and then to bring them in on purpose.

I have two nephews. One is getting ready to go to college and the other one will be going to college in a couple of years. They are both bright, talented boys. But of course they’re facing this “You can’t get into our college because we have to have this number of blacks and this number of Hispanics and this number of whatever.” There is a lot of discrimination against white people in favor of minorities at the present time, whether it is done formally or informally. I think that is bad, but I think also that much of what is being done is actually very cruel to minorities. If Jane Doe Minority or John Doe Minority could do well at a small teachers college and get a decent education and a good job, that’s wonderful. But if you take that person and stick them at Harvard or Yale or Princeton or Stanford or Columbia and they can’t do the work, it’s cruel because they may well not be able to keep up and they will drop out. From what I understand, the minority dropout rate is huge in those kinds of places. These kids go to Harvard or Yale and they’re built up like they’re gods, and then a year or two later they come crawling home with their tails between their legs. They were set up for failure, and nobody doing this to them seems to care how humiliating and degrading it is to the minority children. And of course they couldn’t care less about how unfair it is to deserving white children to be the victims of racial discrimination.

I had just had my fifty-third birthday. I’ve lived alone for years— my husband was killed in Vietnam. I’ve never been afraid of anything, but I’ve started to think, “What am I going to do when I am sixty and seventy and eighty and all by myself?” I don’t want to live behind burglar bars and be afraid to go to the store for fear that some monster is going to beat me up and rape me and rob me. I am feeling my mortality, and a lot of that is tied into the fear of what is going on with other racial and ethnic groups and how that’s changing our country and our communities. I’ve always felt safe because I was a nice person. If I met someone, I was always friendly with them. It didn’t make any difference if it was a black janitor or a Hispanic bus driver or whatever, I was always very friendly and nice, and people always appreciated the fact that I treated them just like everybody else. But what’s going on today, people don’t care who you are or how nice you are or how unprejudiced you are. If you are in their sights and you’re the wrong color, you’re dead. And their turf is expanding rapidly. I keeping thinking, where can I go to be safe when I get older? I am thinking of moving to Maine. I think it is safe there still.

An online personals ad read as follows:

I am a 30-year old, single white woman seeking a strong, traditional white man for family building. I am a racially aware Southern gal with Scotch-Irish/Swiss ancestry. I am a graduate of a four-year university but have recovered from the brainwashing. I have worked as a newspaper editor, play traditional Irish and Appalachian fiddle, and like to dance. I am a former county beauty pageant winner, 5’6”, 120 lbs., blue eyes, and have long, red hair. I am ready to have an intelligent, physically fit Anglo man support me in my role as homemaker. I welcome correspondence from racially conscious men.

Margie O’Connor* lives with her grandmother in a small town near Winston-Salem, North Carolina. She has a soft Southern accent and gentle, sincere manner.

In high school, I graduated fifteenth in a class of four hundred. I was the homecoming queen and played three different sports—soccer, tennis, and basketball. I was most valuable player in soccer and tennis, and all-conference in all three sports. I had African American students on my teams and spent a lot of time with them. In those years, I saw myself as enlightened in that I was nonjudgmental about people who were black. Many other people I knew seemed to be pretending as though they didn’t see black and white, but I saw their behavior as patronizing toward blacks. I felt as though I wasn’t even seeing color and that I was treating each person as an individual. After high school, I went on to college and received a degree in psychology and worked as an editor for a newspaper for three years. I wrote several articles that touched on racial matters and some people implied that I was evil and hated black people and was one of those knee -jerk racists that Southern people are stereotyped as being. But I didn’t come from that background at all.

Increasingly after college, I noticed things going on around me that began rubbing me the wrong way—the music that was blasting, television, movies, all the things that were being piped into our culture. It got to the point that it went completely against my grain. I was happy with my culture here—playing traditional music and going over to my ninety-year-old grandmother’s house and hearing her talk about when there was no highway through here, and going over to my great aunt’s house where she made quilts. I embraced what I loved around here and everyone else was talking about the next “Friends” episode and making $60,000 a year. Also, over the past five years there has been a big influx of mixed-race migrant workers here—they work in tobacco—and everything is bilingual now. That has been very disturbing to me.

Two years ago, a friend recommended that I read David Duke’s book [My Awakening]. Reading that book, I saw that Duke isn’t the ogre that he is painted as being. He is a very intelligent and thoughtful and sincere person who at a young age became committed to deal with some very controversial issues. He talked in the book about his childhood—he is Southern, as I am. I felt a kinship with his story. I thought, here is someone I can relate to. Here is someone who, when he was young, instead of getting involved with art or music or sports, got involved with social issues. David Duke’s book helped me put words to what I had been experiencing. Reading that book was a real turning point for me.

About two weeks after I read the Duke book, it just so happened that he was scheduled to speak about thirty minutes from where I live here in North Carolina. That area has a lot of chicken farms and is around fifty percent Hispanic now. Not to get all mystical, but I saw his coming to my area as a sign. I went there and met him and got him to sign my book.

For a long time, I have been disenchanted with the idea of just having a professional career—being a career woman doesn’t appeal to me. Duke’s book has a chapter called “Women and Society,” I think it is, and that helped make it all right for me to say, “I just want to stay home and play music and have a garden.” My mother is on the big kick of me going back and getting my masters degree for some reason. She still doesn’t get it.

Until I read the research Duke presented in his book, I was of the belief that there were no real differences between blacks and whites. I accepted the argument that any differences that we saw were a product of slavery and poverty and the lack of opportunity. If you were to suggest that blacks in Africa seem to have the same problems that blacks do here, I would have said that is was because of the harsh conditions in Africa. But Duke used the example of Iceland, which is a godforsaken place. The white people there have managed to turn it into a thriving economy and livable place. Duke compared Iceland to Haiti. Haiti is a virtual Eden, with ports and natural resources, yet it is like a cesspool.

When I go into town, I get accosted by black men on the street all the time. They make overt comments and just glare and look me up and down. I am now of the belief that that behavior is every bit as much a part of them as the color of their skin. I don’t believe anymore that what they do to me is simply a product of their rearing. And I think there is a difference in intelligence, and in temperament, I guess that is the word for it. To me, an evolutionary argument to explain racial differences, or a good portion of them, is completely reasonable. Duke has a section in his book—not that he developed the material, but that is where I got it—that in human beings, like with any animal species, any trait that enables the species to survive is the one that will be selected. If you evolve in extremely cold conditions, that selects for different traits than if you evolve in an extremely hot, tropical environment. That just makes perfect sense to me. The Duke book goes through my mind whenever I see black people acting as they do.

When I was working at the newspaper, I went out on a limb a few times about the black issue. I cited some violence and rape statistics, and I know that gets controversial. Make the suggestion that black men are more violent and you are going to be called a racist. But you can’t deny that they are committing these crimes and that it’s not getting any better. I think it is best for the happiness of all races, not just the white race, that the races remain separate. I don’t think there is going to be a peaceful world until all the races have their own separate spaces. There is a furniture market around here, and people from all over the world come here to it, to this little city. There is something enchanting about that, to see all the diversity in one place. But then I just want everybody to go home. It is ironic to me that those who praise diversity don’t favor separating the races. Races living together encourages both cultural and physical interbreeding, and that dilutes the uniqueness of each race and blends away their diversity. Nature provides wonderful diversity, and then the diversity advocates take it away—it makes no sense.

I don’t believe race-mixing [interracial coupling and procreation] is a good idea. Really, I have never been attracted to that. Actually, I think if they could peel off the layers of media and school propaganda, practically all white women would feel as I do. So many women I know are taking Zoloft and other anti-depressants. To me, that is a symptom that something is just not right in their lives. They are being conditioned by the media to go in directions, interracial dating being one of them, that aren’t true to their nature and aren’t going to bring them happiness.

The Duke book talked about how the media are basically Jewish dominated, and after re-reading that material and thinking about it, I have come to see that as a major part of the disease in this country. I’ll give you an example: Country music has always been associated with the South and Christianity and people going to church, and it has always tended to be conservative. The country music station that plays videos never had any racy things on it, and on Sundays it always maintained respect for the day. CBS, which is Jewish owned, bought the station and now I see commercials for rap music. This past Christmas, they played a movie that had no Christmas theme at all. It had the most explicit sex scenes that I have ever seen on television.

I don’t necessarily think that Jewish men are sitting around openly saying let’s put these things on television and in the movies to force cultural norms on white people and completely corrupt their whole race so it makes it easier for us to control them. But I now see Jewish people as a separate race, and I have concluded that psychological traits can be as much a part of someone’s being as physical traits. The direction Jewish people take things, I think, is just them, is just a reflection of who they are. And I think it is their strategy for survival and success and that they don’t have to talk about it. They just understand it among themselves. Actually, I am in awe of what they have been able to do considering that they are only two or three percent of the population and yet control most of what people see on television, listen to on the radio, see in the movies, and read in books.

My younger brother is a victim of what is going on in this culture. He’s 6’4” and has broad shoulders. He should be lifting things and working in the fields. But it seems that he, like so many white men, is distracted and—I don’t know quite how to put it—softened, or domesticated, or emasculated somehow. People like my brother evolved from nature. Nature is in their souls. But they are losing touch with that. They are being taken away from things that are real and important to things that are not real and that are trivial. I’m talking about the kinds of lives they see portrayed in the movies and on sitcoms. Nothing disturbs me more than to see a group of white men watching an NBA game and spending all their time idolizing those kinds of people. On MTV, there is a show where they tour celebrity homes. My brother watches it. He sees these black athletes who have multi-million dollar homes and Rolls Royces. For white men like my brother, hardworking men struggling to have something for their families, it makes it seem like what they are doing isn’t as important as what these athletes are doing. The media has made out athletes to be the big heroes of our day because they can put a ball in a net or run with a football. My brother watches that and is affected by it.

Also, all the explicit images you see everywhere now encourage men to think that if they are happy staying home with their wife and kids, they are uncool. If they aren’t hooking up with their mistress on the weekend or going to the strip clubs, something is wrong with them. I think that white men who normally would be happy with a family and a home and having somebody to support them and encourage them feel pressure to do things that deep down they don’t really want to do. But they feel the whole world is doing it, so what’s wrong with them? They think they should be out doing the same thing.

I have some guy friends who, for certain, feel the same way about the race issue as I do. You can see it in their eyes when loud blacks drive by acting, to put it simply, crazy. But they don’t really say anything. And here is where I see white women coming into this. I think white men suppress their views and their true natures about race because they know white women are going to be embarrassed and afraid that the men are going to lose their jobs. The white men know that the women are going to be worried that their friends are going to think, “She’s married to a horrible racist.” I can understand why women want to stay away from the race issue and the immigration issue because they insinuate hate, and women are supposed to be compassionate. Women like things that are pretty, and these can be ugly issues, that’s true, and it is seen as even uglier when a woman speaks of these things than when a man does.

But nevertheless, women need to speak out about these things. If a woman loves her children, she needs to speak out. If she doesn’t want them to be enticed into a base and alien way of life, she needs to speak out. If she cares about her children’s physical safety and her own, she needs to speak out. If she cares whether her children become a minority in their own country, she needs to speak out. With the influx of non-whites into our land, we are losing our cultural identity and unity. White women should be repelled at the idea of our sacred space being turned into an Africa or a Mexico. They ought to be outraged that they and their children are not able to walk on the street without fear of being accosted or raped. Nothing is more important than women letting their men know they support them in dealing honestly with their feelings. At the very least, women can stop being barriers to men confronting this crisis in our lives.

I’ve quit the newspaper and am living with my grandmother. I’m building a small cabin on eight acres of land I bought five years ago. I have plans for a home I’d like to build, and I’d like a big garden. I’ve studied Jefferson’s designs for Monticello for inspiration. To bring in some money, I do temporary work in Winston-Salem, which I’m not real happy with. Taking photographs is a hobby of mine. I’d like to get better at that. I started a novel a couple of years ago and I hope to complete it. The book is a Southern novel and somewhat autobiographical. The whole story is laid out and I have bits of chapters written. I’ve filled several notebooks full of paragraphs and ideas. Someday I would like to get a horse.

I have played and sung music professionally on and off for the past ten years. I’ve written lots of songs, but I’ve never done a CD of them. That is something I would like to do. You definitely have to look a certain way these days to be in the country music business, and I guess I have the right looks. I kind of have a problem with that, though. I mean, you heard me talking about what the media do, and now you hear me talking about wanting to manipulate the media to get my music played on the radio.

I’d like to travel more and I think the music would let me do that. I haven’t traveled a whole lot. I’ve been mostly happy here. I dated someone from the time I was twenty to the time I was twenty-eight. I’m a curious and independent person, but I guess his company made me happy just to do simple things here.

I’d love to have a place that is isolated, with lots of animals and children around and with me free to do my creative things. I had a lot of love and support as a child, and that is what I have to give to the world. My life situation now makes it almost impossible to do any of these things I have talked about. I can’t have the children; I don’t have a husband. But even though right now I don’t have what I want, it is comforting to me to know what it is. I could go on to graduate school or do whatever else I wanted to do, but I am in touch with what makes me happy. I have this picture in my head.

It’s hard right now for me to say, “OK, I’m going to find a husband.” I’m wary of going after it directly like that. I don’t think that is how it works. I think I need to continue to do things that make me happy and he will be there on that path. I feel strange for the ad to be there. I didn’t actually write it. My friend wrote it. He’s known me for a long time. It was his idea. He’s the guy I saw for eight years. I know that must sound very strange that he wrote the ad.

It isn’t a natural thing to be living with your grandma when you are thirty as I am. But she is sort of a surrogate in place of not having a husband. She kind of fills that role a little bit and my mom does too, and I have friends. But really, nobody looks out for me or protects me. That may reflect a general lack of reverence for women nowadays. I think all women want to feel secure, that they are going to be looked after, that there is someone to take up for them. I guess it is just a primitive thing. You want somebody to be there to protect you, to beat up the bad guy. No matter how strong I might think I am, how much I go to the “Y” and work out, there are people who could overtake me in a minute, take me off and I’d never be seen again.

Nadine Taylor, a native Texan, is twenty-three and a senior at the University of Texas in Austin. She comes across as personally grounded and positive in outlook.

Since I was a teenager, I have always been into metal, the music. I’ve always liked the sound of it and everything else. I especially like black metal. Black metal is a segment of the underground, as we call it, where the bands are more obscure and a little more artistic. They have a big heathen and pagan element, and they are concerned with expressing old European ways, like a lot of old Viking ways. There is a pretty strong anti-Judeo-Christian message in black metal.

I really like the idea that the guys in the bands are very big and strong and tall. They look capable. They look like warriors. And whatever band you are talking about, Danzig or whatever, the front man is very outspoken. I am really drawn to that because that means they aren’t just passively consuming what they see. They are trying to apply some sort of critical eye to the world. I like seeing men who are actually self-reliant and not kind of wimpy and ready to just cower in front of someone. I think being against homosexuality as they are is good because homosexuality is promoted as this experimental happy thing that we are all supposed to go through.

Also, I like the slant on history and cultural traditions in the music. Way before I was comfortable with the idea of race, I liked hearing about all these noble and great things that the English or the Germans did. I was very inspired by the idea of greatness, historical greatness, that individuals, actual figures, can rise to greatness, produce art and lead nations and things like that. I appreciate all the emphasis in black metal on responsibility and being noble and courageous and stuff like that.

I was always a pretty quiet girl growing up and I didn’t express a lot of things, and so when I saw these guys in bands and that they had a sort of righteous anger, I thought there was really something to that. It was a good outlet for me. I was finally real grateful to see white kids be very defiant, to stand up for themselves and be very combative. I thought how great that was. White kids don’t have much of a place. They don’t have things they can turn to. It is starting to be that they are passive and just want do the hip-hop thing. I really liked that a band was standing against that.

When I was about thirteen I started listening to one band, Pantera. They are from Texas, actually. They have managed to become a really big band without MTV or radio airplay. I had a couple of best friends who were sisters. They were a year apart in age. They both got into the aggression of the music. They also thought the lead singer of the band, Philip, was so cool. They thought he was the best looking guy and whatever. I think that is because he was strong and he was good looking, he was. Actually, I met him. I had a big crush on his best friend, and that’s how I got to be friends with Phil himself. Both Phil and his friend are very good people. They have their flaws, of course. Like a lot of musicians, they live kind of chaotic lives and have a lot of trouble and whatnot. But they are really good people, warm and affectionate, and, yeah, I liked hanging out with them. This is when I was sixteen and seventeen.

At sixteen I started reading [the late-nineteenth century German philosopher Friedrich] Nietzsche, and he became my favorite author and probably still is. Nietszsche has had a very big influence on me—the concept of overcoming, the concept that power and being very aggressive in war and everything is not an evil thing, or if it is an evil thing, then evil is actually of highest value. Nietzsche’s book Thus Spoke Zarathustra is so neat because every time you go back to it there are more and more layers to it. You can uncover more. I’m still not done figuring out all the things he throws in.

When I was younger, it was the standard American deal of watching a lot of TV. I was really hooked on TV talk shows. The talk shows sent a kind of flippant message about race. Here’s this Mexican gal. Her Mexican boyfriend just got her pregnant and isn’t it funny and interesting, like the drama that they go through. Then they would show just regular white people acting trashy too. What I took from that was everyone is pretty much going through the same struggle. At that time, it wasn’t occurring to me that there might be constitutional traits and things that differentiate people a lot. I was thinking, how can we be different when we are all going through the drama of love and all this back-and-forth relationship stuff?

As for my racial consciousness in those years, it would be the deal where at school all the kids who were into metal were white, so there was that. I was feeling all these great things from the music, but if someone had turned around and said, “Are you a racist?” I would have said, “Oh, no!” But it’s true I had a disdain for rap, and when they tried to mix rock and metal with rap, I thought that was just terrible. I thought that was the most lame thing in the world. And if I was someplace where I didn’t know people, like in a mall or something, I would go toward people that looked like me. But basically I was pretty much in line with all the other kids in that I thought anyone who was kind of down on blacks or whatever was just a stodgy old conservative and they’re not cool.

Actually, my mom would say stuff to me. She was, like, “I can talk to black people, I can have a civil conversation with them, but I wouldn’t want them in my house and I wouldn’t want to be friends with them and I certainly wouldn’t want to date one,” and I remember I would just berate her for that. I thought she was closed-minded and whatnot.

But really I was fairly neutral to whatever—you know, it didn’t concern me much. When me and my girlfriend Carrie were sitting around, she confessed to me, “You know, maybe it’s not the right thing to say or whatever, but I don’t like the Mexican gangs. I don’t like the black gangs.” I’m like, “Yeah, I hear you.” It was no big deal to me.

When I was about eighteen, there was a girl named Casey I was friends with. Casey was a troubled girl. Her mom was an alcoholic— on the wagon and off the wagon—and her dad was in prison for something or another. Casey had gotten into a big fight and was kicked out of her house, and so me and my mom gave her a place to stay kind of the fly, you know. My mom being a normal and very cautious type person, she said, “Casey cannot stay here more than three or four nights, because we can’t house a young girl.” I said, “I understand.” And so I was trying to figure out what this girl Casey was going to do next.

The next day, I went up to a community college—I was taking an extra class there my last year of high school—’cause I had to turn in something. I brought Casey along. We were trying to figure out where she was going to go. She had nowhere to go. I told her, “My mom, who puts a roof over my head, is telling me that you have to have something figured out by tonight.”

When we got to the college, Casey started talking to this carload of black guys. Casey was white. She had kind of light brown hair and was a petite girl. She asked these black guys where they thought a motel was. I told Casey, “I’ll take you wherever you want to go and drop you off.”

Casey had a problem with drugs, which kind of figures in her family, her mom being addicted to alcohol and everything. She made the mistake of putting her drug addiction before any sort of sense, and she decided she wanted to go off with these black guys to try to find some drugs.

At the time I couldn’t think of anything objectionable to say about these guys because they were dressed sharp and I felt so constricted because, Lord knows, I didn’t want to be branded as a racist. I didn’t want to say anything negative against these guys, so I said, “Well, I don’t know them from a hole in the wall, I just don’t know.” And Casey went off with these black guys.

A long story short, Casey got raped by one of the guys in the car. It took her a whole another year to deal with the court and everything. I helped her out being a witness telling what I remembered. It never went to trial. It was a bad deal.

From that experience, it wasn’t that I learned that all blacks are bad. What I learned is that this culture and the media and everything inhibit your instincts and your common sense to where you don’t want to say, “No Casey, going off with a carload of black guys is not a good idea.” It gets you to where you are inhibited from even saying that.

About this same time, I was going to online discussion groups to see what black metal bands people were talking about. I was just there to get information on bands, but I got drawn into what a couple of people who were into black metal had to say against the one world-one race project they said was going on. I would read arguments that said how the Jews have an interest in promoting everyone to kind of melt together. At first that grated on me because, well, I wasn’t used to seeing the word Jew used at all, really. I had seen Schindler’s List and everything, so when I read the word “Jew,” I thought, “Oh man, this guy is coming from left field. I can’t believe that he is saying this, because this means that he is anti-Semitic.” It took a while for me to get past that. But I could tell this guy was really well read for one thing, and he was really educated in philosophy. I was impressed with that. Then I started thinking there’s a reason that these black metal bands are celebrating a heathen or pagan tradition and why they often rail against the Jews and have such aggression and talk warlike.

I never found out who this guy was that was posting exactly, but he would get into these ideological arguments and he would just basically argue all the leftists and multicultural-type people totally into the ground. At the end of each of his little posts, he would have a link to both the National Alliance and the World Church of the Creator, and one other organization I think. At first, I was a little skeptical. I thought, “Well, he seems to mention the Jews a lot,” and I thought maybe he is just some sort of reactionary person that I shouldn’t be listening to. But the more I listened to him, he was so reasoned and thought out that probably the eightieth time I saw his name up there, I finally followed a link to the National Alliance and that’s when I got more interested in racial concerns. I think the National Alliance was the first of the three links that he always included, so I went to that web site first.

I wasn’t immediately struck with the notion that I needed to be a member of the National Alliance, but it got me to where I would visit the site and I started to know who Dr. [William] Pierce was. So then when on different places on the Internet people would post articles or broadcasts that Dr Pierce had written or quotes that he had said, there was that name recognition and I thought, “Oh, that’s that guy.” I was still a little cautious, though, ’cause I wasn’t used to the idea of being associated with anything that people would call right wing and stuff. But more and more I would read the things that Dr. Pierce said and I thought they made a heck of a lot of sense.

Then eventually I was corresponding online with a guy from Detroit. He was into a lot of the music and everything I was, and he was a racial guy as well, even more so than I would have claimed to be at the time. In our e-mails back and forth, one day I said, “I may look into this group called the National Alliance because I think they have a unit around where I live and I want to see what they are about.” He e-mailed me back and said, “That’s funny you mention that because I’m a member myself.” So this Internet friend I had could pretty much vouch that the National Alliance was a good organization and very sharp-minded and all that. So from that I decided, well, then yeah, I’ll definitely check it out.

So I went to a local National Alliance unit meeting here. I was really impressed with the people. That’s really what did it for me. The ideas, I knew I agreed with most everything. I was going to try to check out the people and I was really impressed with them. A lot of white women, when they think of anything racial like the Alliance that says be proud of your race, be proud of who you are, immediately think of skinheads, just getting drunk and “sieg heiling,” and that has a lot to do with the movies they have been watching and everything else. And maybe they have been programmed to think that strong white men are brutish and evil and they just need a soft sensitive wimp or something like that. So they never get to meet the kind of people I met. I joined after the first meeting. It just took me a while to get my paperwork in and whatnot.

My first year at college at the University of Texas, I remember walking through the main mall area and there were always different groups protesting the mistreatment of somebody or another. And there was the black coalition of engineers and the Pakistani young nurses association and all that. I remember thinking that there is nothing for just regular white people and so I felt pretty alienated. I looked at all these little booths and I didn’t want to get involved with any of it. I didn’t see anything that appealed to me. The only group that was mostly white kids was the university skeptics society and I just thought they were a bunch of cynical losers, basically, and I didn’t like their vibe. So I was pretty turned off by the whole deal. What I got from that was that other races were exalted, but if you are white there is not that actual place for you.

The past couple of years, I have come to know the German poet, Friedrich Hölderlin. He wrote in the 1800s and Nietzsche was influenced by him. I took a graduate class last year and I wrote a term paper showing that Hölderlin was a nationalist but his nationalism was rooted in the folk, the volk. He didn’t touch upon the political in his work. It was always very connected to the earth and ancient traditions and the communal spirit. I’m glad I came across Hölderlin. He’s a pretty great poet.

In a literature class last semester, the professor had us read a book by Ronald Wright called Stolen Continents: The Americas Through Indian Eyes Since 1492. It was about how the avaricious white man had plundered and pillaged and was hell-bent on killing everyone and getting rich—that was the orientation all whites had coming to the New World. I remember there was one statement in the book that the achievements of the Europeans were technological and not social. I felt that deep down the professor knew, as I did, how ridiculous that statement was and how much of a hatred toward Western civilization that kind of statement promoted, but he didn’t criticize it. It made me frustrated. I was sitting there in class and I just looked down in my notebook and started doodling. I was pretty disappointed.

The professor had us write an essay and I basically said that the book was painting whites as evil and that the author had added all sorts of nasty things and I could tell it was personal for him. I got an A on the paper. The next essay I wrote for that course was on the Founding Fathers. I said I thought that Jefferson and Hamilton when they were laying the groundwork for everything, that they may not have anticipated the peculiar racial admixture that would be in the country later. When I turned that paper in the professor wrote on it in red letters, “See me.” And I was, like, “Oh boy.”

So I went to his office, and he just asked me what I meant by the peculiar admixtures of cultures and races. I said that with increasing pluralism comes increasing problems, and then I mentioned how first northern Europeans had immigrated to the New World, and then after that African slaves were freed, and then southern Europeans came, and now, these days, there are immigrants from Asia and Mexico. But I said it in such a civil manner that he said, “OK, I was just trying to...”—well, actually he didn’t say anything; he just let me out and gave me an A.

Even though he didn’t really challenge me, I took him calling me into the office to mean that you maybe are skating on thin ice, so to speak. I felt he was kind of trying to put the brakes on what he felt might be going in too extreme a direction. When he saw the second essay and I still was bringing up a racial thing that could be construed as pro-white, I think he was trying to tell me there is a certain point I shouldn’t go past or there are certain things I shouldn’t say. I thought that was a possibility of what he was trying to do. It was a little ambiguous.

This incident was different for me than it would have been two years ago. Now, with me being more aware of things and more secure in what I believe, when I followed him to his office, I was pretty calm. I sat in his office and kind of adopted my super friendly exterior. I asked him what classes he was teaching next semester and everything. When I was sitting there, I did feel grilled, but I had expected it, which for me is very helpful in being able to calm myself down.

I would definitely call myself a white nationalist now. I want to preserve my race and my heritage. I think it is important to follow nature’s dictums, and that means staying within my own race. I believe the white race has done the most impressive world historical things and that we shouldn’t dilute ourselves biologically or culturally. Basically, to me, “us” is white people in the United States, but I think of the white people in Europe fighting for the cause as us too. I really like the idea of actually sacrificing for my people. The notion of sacrifice is very noble. People are just these little atoms and don’t have a concept of anything higher or greater than their own individual lives. I don’t want to live like that.

I go to [National] Alliance meetings once a month. The unit coordinator and his wife have become like my best friends. Goodness, it helps to find good people. They are probably a couple of the best people I have ever met. Really, what has happened to me is that I have been so busy meeting neat people in the white power movement and in white nationalism, whether it is the Alliance or kids on the street who listen to resistance music, that I’m so busy with that why would I even want to hang out with people outside my race?

My dad has some land in Oklahoma. I’ve noticed that when I go out to there now, I’m a lot more interested than I used to be just hearing about what good white folks have to say. When I was in high school, I could never be bothered with that. So I think I’ve become a lot more able to connect with people, feel good will toward people. Before, I might have said, “Oh gosh, there’s some young rural couple with twenty kids!” or whatever, and, “Oh, isn’t that terrible, that’s so unsophisticated!” Now I look at it and I’m like, “Wow, that’s great!” I admire the discipline and what it takes to be able to raise your kids and to have a lot of kids, ’cause they are pretty neat.

I’d like to help white people recover the arts in a sense. When I go around my school and look at who’s in the art department, it’s all these, like, really frail, pasty, gay people, gay guys, and it’s these very leftist and communist-type people. A lot of postmodernism, whether it is in the art world or literary criticism, I think is so harmful. It keeps breaking down white people’s consciousness, but it is looked at as cool. I want to help develop something that is cool for white kids. I help out with Resistance, both the magazine and the web site [www.resistance.com]. I wrote a couple reviews of CDs for the magazine. With my interest in music, I think it is real important for the young kids who are real vulnerable these days to have there be a very cool, a very sharp, look, like a style? Because, you know, these rap kids have their ridiculous style and the baggy pants and everything. I’d like to help show and popularize that being a strong healthy white person is really a beautiful and cool thing, ’cause kids really want to go off on what’s cool.

I definitely would like a family. I don’t want one quite yet, though, even though a real close friend of mine has done a great job of having a family pretty early. She is just a year older than I am and has a little boy and a little girl. One of the things I find out about a guy now is if he eventually wants a family. A future husband will definitely have to share my racial views. Right now, what I’m going to do in terms of a job and things like that, I’m pretty confused. I’ve taken a big interest in photography and the visual arts. I don’t know whether I want to do something artistic or go to graduate school in literature or psychology. But I feel as if I have come a long way personally and in overcoming personal obstacles and, on a larger scale, just finding the right way to look at things that helps me have a good outlook on life and contribute to something that will outlast me.