This is part of our continuing series of accounts by readers of how they shed the illusions of liberalism and became race realists.

My journey towards race realism began in childhood. I grew up in a traditional Christian, white, military family. My father was in the Air Force and my mother was the iconic — and once revered — housewife. We moved often and always lived on military bases, as did everybody else I grew up with. Whites, blacks, Hispanics, and Asians: we all shared the same middle- to upper-class childhoods in stable, financially secure, households. Unlike many Americans, I had the opportunity to see race in an almost completely level economic playing field.

All of my white friends were upstanding normal kids, as was I. We all shared traditional Christian values and only occasionally got into trouble over typical childish antics. My first black friend did not fit that mold. This 10-year old black boy showed me how to steal from people and shoplift. He showed me pornography for the first time, and talked about women with a vulgarity that was totally new to me. I found some of this thrilling, but it never sat right with me on religious and moral grounds. Our friendship ended when he tried to blame me for stealing from another neighborhood boy after he got caught.

I made my first Hispanic friends, a group of brothers, not long after. It was something of a repeat of my experience with my former black friend. These brothers loved to start fires, and showed me how to do the same. They were profane too, and constantly talked about sex. Our friendship did not last long. Though I accept responsibility for my actions, I can say with complete sincerity that I wouldn’t have been involved with such degeneracy and criminality if I hadn’t met these kids. From then on, all of my friends were white. I had a happy and normal childhood with no problems.

Whites were not responsible for my blossoming dissident understanding of race — it was the actions of blacks and Hispanics that got me there. As an adult, I discovered that there are, in fact, biological differences and corresponding behavioral patterns among races. All I needed was scientific fact to confirm what I had always suspected deep down, even as a child. My thoughts on race realism had been dormant, and I had always voluntarily suppressed them because egalitarianism seemed morally upright. But once I discovered the evidence that races are inherently, and genetically, unequal, there was no turning back from the truth. Today, I feel I have a duty to awaken my brothers and sisters.

If you have a story about how you became racially aware, we’d like to hear it. If it is well written and compelling, we will publish it. Use a pen name, stay under 1,200 words, and send it to us here.