Have you ever wanted to speak up for white-positive issues, but been too scared to do so? You are one of many. With the dangers we face today for simply speaking up for ourselves and our race, it’s no wonder few do. Many of us bite our tongue when the words we want to say are on the tip of it and begging to get out. It could be online when you see content claiming white people have no culture, or better yet that we don’t deserve our homelands. It could be on the street when you see the white boy being bullied by a bunch of blacks. It could be in class when the professor and your fellow students preach in unison about how much they detest white people. It could be at work when they give the affirmative action hire the promotion instead of you—right after they made you take anti-white training. The conditions that spark that innate inclination to speak up for yourself and your race occur in everyday life. While the risks may hold us back are understandable, what is the cost of total restraint? And is it worth it?
I recall my days in college not long ago. I majored in Political Science, and was one of the few bold enough to speak up to the professor. He would continuously say that Muslim migrants from Middle Eastern countries were just like you and me. If you have any perception of reality, you know this is not true in the slightest. He made it clear that he believes we should welcome these savages into our homelands. I thought this was not only utterly foolish but quite comical. His rhetoric and other world events inspired me to do my final project that semester on The Myth of the Moderate Muslim. This was a way to showcase the truth to my class, backed up by facts and data, and also to prove my professor wrong in one big final way. When it was my turn to get up in front of roughly thirty students and my professor, I followed directly after another student whose project was the exact opposite of mine—his sloppy and meagre presentation was to promote Middle Eastern Muslim immigration because “they’re no different than us.” The professor ate it up, of course. Imagine being in that classroom with me, and think about how it felt to follow with such an extremely polarizing presentation (it’s okay if you find it chucklesome, I know I did). I proceeded to the front of the room and put up my PowerPoint slides. I went through a few polls taken by the Pew Research Center that showed most Middle Eastern Muslims already in Western nations want to bring Sharia Law among other barbaric practices to the nations they’ve been let into. I showed some more data that compromised the notion of there being many “moderate Muslims,” along with a few memes for comedic relief. Then, I played a video that was part of my presentation and further evidence that Muslims do not want to assimilate or live peacefully among white Westerners. It showed a meeting of Imams (Muslim leaders) who discussed their plans for destroying the white Western societies they were let into. The video played for only a few seconds when I was completely shut down by my professor. Mind you, we had ten minutes of allotted time, and I was only at the four-minute mark. He was disgruntled the entire time, but this is where any possible shred of professionalism and fairness went out the window. He vehemently denounced my project, while I was still standing there, and had the audacity to claim that “White Christians from Mississippi are equal to or worse than Middle Eastern Muslims.” When this moronic statement was made, I stayed composed and responded with facts. A couple of my remarks were along the lines of, “White Christians in Mississippi don’t throw gays off the tops of buildings” and “When was the last time you heard about white Christians strapping bombs to themselves and going into crowded areas yelling Jesus?” He only responded with hostility, not even acknowledging the many valid points I made. As you can imagine, the ethnomasochist never let me finish my presentation, and I didn’t get a well-deserved grade, but there was a massive positive that for me outweighed the negativity of the situation. After class, a handful of students came up and thanked me for speaking the truth. Some asked how I had found the courage to speak out on a matter as taboo as this. I explained that someone needs to start speaking out, so it might as well be me. I believe this resonated with some of them. And all it takes is one spark to start a flame. If I can put myself out there and speak up for white issues, that could be what invokes someone else to do the same.
If you speak publicly about white issues on the internet, you have likely been doxed or at least threatened with it. If you’re not aware of what “doxed” or “doxing” means, it’s when someone finds out your full name and address, where you work and where you go to school, who your relatives are, and other personal information, then releases it publicly to others who wish to use it information for malicious purposes. This is a popular way to silence whites and disincentivize them from speaking up about white issues. I personally have been doxed multiple times, and it’s a risk I knowingly take when I go online and use my voice. I’m aware that if I were anything but white I’d be free from this risk when speaking out about issues related to my race, but This double standard is exactly why I use my voice online to normalize such freedom for whites, too. I have seen how far we’ve fallen in terms of our collective pride, willpower, strength, self-preservation, self-determination, dignity—in having a damn spine—and I’m not willing to be a part of the silent majority, because our silence won’t keep us safe.
If you look at the world around you, are the silent ones getting what they want? It appears that those who are the loudest get what they want, while those who are silent keep losing more and more of their voice as they let it slip away. We gave an inch, now they’ve taken several miles. We need to speak up, even if our voice trembles, for who will speak up if not you and I? We cannot afford to wait any longer and hope someone else does the work for us. The cost of total restraint is simply too high, for if we don’t speak up we will forever be in debt to our enemies. Yes, there will be risks and sometimes even consequences, but what is the greatest consequence if not our silent consent leading to our collective erasure?
Comments:
Christopher Harrison
If we don’t we are finished, like the South Africans.
