My ideological journey: Part One

I apologize to my readers that I have not been publishing as much recently – college life is VERY busy. From here on out, however, I do intend to publish at least one post a week. While I may not be able to produce as much content, I hope the content I do produce is nonetheless fulfilling and thought-provoking.

All of us are embarked on journeys of some kind: spiritual, philosophical, moral. With the recent rise of nationalism and the alt-right, how did I embark on my own particular journey from liberalism to reaction? Like many who have likewise embarked on such an odyssey, the answer might best be, “In stages.”

From an early age, I displayed a keen interest in world affairs. I was (and still try to be) quite knowledgeable in history, science, and geography. I was a precocious child, and due to the center-Left tendencies of my father, grew up from my youngest years as a liberal Democrat.

Even in elementary school, I believed in global warming, was anti-racist, and felt a lack of patriotism like so many on the Left. I was not a child social-justice warrior, by any means – far from it – but I viewed myself as morally superior to my peers in matters of public life.

At the same time, however, I received a far more reactionary influence from my mother. Although she did not (and still does not) vote in elections, she is nonetheless certainly a conservative. She is also very religious, and while not hesitating to extend kindness and compassion to all, is nonetheless a race realist as well.

Therefore my naive liberalism was mitigated by my mother’s influence. From an early age, I was taught that Communism was evil, and that Jesus Christ was the only way to salvation. Faith and morality were strongly impressed upon me.

I also knew, instinctively, that the races were different. I interacted with blacks and Hispanics every day at my schools, and while I had black and Hispanic friends, they ‘acted white.’ I knew blacks and whites tended to stay together, and that the white kids tended to act far more civilized than the black kids did. Because I was placed in ‘gifted’ classes, I also noticed that most children therein were white or Asian. There would only be one or two black faces in such a class.

Though I dislike the term ‘bullied,’ I was bullied by black kids while riding the bus, something that my white counterparts never did to me. Already a foundation for later revelation had been laid.

When I became somewhat older and entered middle school, I became interested in politics. President Obama had elected not too long before, and many of my peers were bitter about him and his policies.

At first I dismissed their anger as simply them parroting their parents’ political views. Truth to be told, they were. But then I began to consider: What if everything I had been taught from a young age was wrong? What if welfare encouraged dependency; what if global warming was a sham; what if I could actually be proud to be an American?

I began to grow more warm to these ideas, and as my adolescent mind pondered them, I grew to appreciate them all the more. The increasingly bizarre antics of the Left were not helping my ideological transformation, either: the gay rights movement was in full swing; abortion and sex education were being pushed; and President Obama looked like an increasingly sinister figure. By the time I entered high school, I was a full-fledged conservative.

As St. Augustine wonders in his Confessions, can I really be blamed for my silly childish fantasies? I don’t know. I was unusually intelligent, so likely I can. Nonetheless, praise God for delivering my vulnerable mind from the wickedness of Leftism at a young age.

As high school continued, I grew increasingly conservative in response to the changes that rapidly occurred around me. I saw the weakness of our leadership in response to the rise of ISIS and the Ebola crisis in the fall of 2014. I read more and more of President Obama’s radical Marxist/Islamic background, and the tactics and ideology of the Left.

Even so, I still continued to hold to some vestiges of my liberal past. When the Ferguson shooting occurred, I at first sympathized with the Leftist argument that black males were being ‘oppressed.’ But as I read actual facts and statistics about ‘police brutality’ and black crime rates, and as riots became a way of life in our country, I turned against Black Lives Matter, and deeply regretted my previous stance.

The Left had emotionally hoodwinked me: it would not do so again. And while not yet ‘red-pilled,’ I considered myself a mainstream conservative: certainly anti-Leftist, but not yet anti-cuckservative. I was a denizen of Conservatism Inc., and likely would have remained that way had it been for one thing: the rise of Donald Trump.


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