I WANT TO ASK, “WHY?”

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.