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

I grew up in the 1980s and 1990s in Silver Spring, Maryland, essentially a suburb of Washington, DC, and one of the country’s most diverse areas. My neighbors included Jews, American blacks, Hispanics, Africans, Middle Easterners, and Asians. There were very few whites, however. From a young age, I was taught about the wondrous cultures and achievements of non-Europeans throughout history. That was the first thing that made me question whether I was really a part of my “community.”

In elementary school, my best friends were a culturally and racially mixed group. I viewed myself as being reasonably educated, socially conscious, and enlightened about race. But as I got older, I began to notice disharmony. White students were the target of blacks and Hispanics. Violence was commonplace and gang activity was ever-present. I began to see (and experience) racial hatred towards whites and began to only socialize with other whites. By the time it came to choose a college, I chose one that was much less racially diverse than my high school.

After college, I worked in Washington, DC, and rode the subway daily. There, I saw just as much racial violence and animosity as I had in high school. Meanwhile, I was working for a university that was constantly insisting “diversity is our strength.” I didn’t last long at that job and soon joined the Peace Corps. For the next 12 years, I traveled the world with them, and didn’t think much about race relations in America.

When I returned to the US, I was less than satisfied with what I found. Whites were consistently being portrayed as the “enemy” or at least as outcasts. Black American culture was being deified more than ever. Small Midwestern towns were becoming Hispanic nearly overnight, transforming them into outposts of the Third World. My own white American culture was swiftly drifting into the shadows. By the time I had a child, I was becoming more apprehensive about this new country I was being forced to accept and love.

Three years ago, I began finding my way to more independent sources of news and analysis on the internet. I was done with the falsehoods coming out of the mainstream media and school system. Online, I discovered like-minded people and websites, where my personal history, values and culture were both discussed and fostered. I found that my observations and experiences from the past four decades weren’t hallucinations — that many people had dealt with similar situations. I learned that I am not a racist; I’m a race realist. Jared Taylor’s American Renaissance was one great source of insight into white identity. I am indebted to this website and similar ones, for securing my racial awakening, and reminding me that it is good and normal to want to enjoy and continue my culture and race.

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.