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An Immigrant’s Racial Education

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

Growing up in Greece, we were taught that blacks in America were oppressed and discriminated against as a matter of policy. Uncle Tom’s Cabin and the white-hooded KKK were all we knew back then, not only in Greece but everywhere in Europe.

So, when I immigrated to America in 1971 at the age of 22, I was carrying with me these ideas about race relations in the US. I came here legally. It took almost two years and a lot of paperwork and red tape to get a visa.

My goal was to go to college and get an engineering degree, but because I had no money, I had to work for a number of years before this would be possible. I never knew that it would take 29 years to get a degree because of marriage, children and endless obligations.

At first, I worked in restaurants with few black and many Hispanic co-workers. Then I went to a professional driver’s school for a career in transportation. There I discovered that in that class of about a dozen people, only I and another European (a Portuguese immigrant), were paying our own way. The rest – all black or Hispanic – were in government programs that covered their tuition. For the next 24 years, I worked in New York as a delivery driver and later as a taxi owner-driver.

It didn’t take long to discover the truth about race. I don’t think that there were many days that I did not witness one or more criminal acts, most by blacks and some by Hispanics. I could write a book about the bicycle thefts, break-ins, grab-and-runs, robberies of locals and tourists, and many other crimes I witnessed. Taxi fare cheating was routine. After reaching the destination in a dangerous part of the city, the black would open the car door without paying and run into the projects (locking the doors was against Taxi & Limousine Commision rules; not that I would want to be locked into a car with a dangerous black anyway). The first time it happened, I ran after him; but I quickly found out that if you value your life you never do that. A hostile crowd gathered almost immediately, and I barely had time to get away.

We were sitting ducks. The penalties for discrimination and refusal to go to “minority” areas were severe, even in the 1970s and ’80s. Asking for the money up front was also prohibited. I’d rather lose a $10 or $20 fare than face a $500 fine or license suspension.

Were all blacks doing that? Of course not. The majority would pay even though most would not tip, and tipping was a sizable part of our income. In contrast, whites almost always tipped.

Robberies, beatings and even murders of cab drivers were frequent. When you stopped for a black, you took your chances.

Is it surprising then that even black taxi drivers would avoid picking up blacks? There was constant condemnation of our profession in the New York papers and on the news. “Racist cab drivers don’t stop for minorities.” Wrong. I did not know a single driver who would not stop for Asians, Hasidic Jews, or even most (non-black) Hispanics. The problem was blacks, regardless of whether they spoke English, Spanish or French. American blacks were the most violent and criminal of the lot.

After David Dinkins’ election as first black mayor around 1990, the city and liberal media, especially TV news stations, set up decoys hailing cabs, in an attempt to catch  “racist” drivers who passed without stopping. These “passengers” dressed and behaved like ghetto thugs, exactly the kind drivers would avoid. Many drivers were nailed, dragged through the court, or pilloried in the evening news as examples of racists. Ironically, by then, most NYC taxi drivers were Asian, Latin American and Caribbean immigrants.

Did I meet proper, well behaved, even remarkable black people? Of course. Many thanked me for stopping to pick them up and understood why so many drivers would not stop. Some would try to compensate for the bad ones by tipping even more than expected.

Besides the crime, there was the hostility, aggressiveness, and constant threat of violence towards whites. The “DMV black lady” is all too real. You could cut the smugness and contempt with a knife when she was dealing with a white.

On the street, blacks often would display a total lack of respect for the rules. If you were  backing into a parking space (a valuable commodity in NYC), a black would pull in from behind, trying to steal the parking spot and ready for violence if the white did not back off. Handicap spaces? Black property. Cutting in line? Check. Public urination? Often.

Selling stolen goods openly, shoplifting, intimidating drivers at red lights with aggressive panhandling or forced porter “services” at train or bus stations were everyday sightings. I’ll never forget the scene at Grand Central Station: The tourist couple, whether they wanted it or not, had their suitcase carried to the waiting cab by a black “porter.” The man took out his wallet and offered the “porter” a couple of dollars. Dissatisfied, the black took the wallet from the guy’s hand, pulled out the bills he wanted, and handed the wallet back. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Disputes and altercations were common, with blacks always the aggressor. They routinely threatened or attacked whites and others, physically or verbally. They used racial slurs at whites and the N-word at each other. In my 24 years in NY, I never heard a non-black use the N-word publicly.

We finally had enough, and in the mid-1990’s moved to a Mountain West state that is more than  90 percent  white and 1-2 percent black. The rest is Asian or Hispanic. It is a different world. The few blacks here behave, either because they are of better stock or because they lack the power of numbers. Still, when you drive around, you never see blacks working in the fields, landscaping, construction, or roofing. Whites and Mexicans do that work.  The few blacks are well represented in the government-benefits offices and on the evening crime news; not so much at worksites.

Here, at the age of 50, I was finally able to go to school, get a degree and a job in the semiconductor industry where I worked until my semi-retirement, as I still do part-time work. We had only a handful of blacks in the company, but we had many Asians; and they were as good as anybody else.

So, what does this old immigrant and long-time American think about our race issues?

Black crime, social dysfunction, and parasitism are America’s biggest problem. Affirmative action is a cancer that casts suspicion on the competence of well-qualified black people. In my 50 years in the US, I have seen only preferential treatment for blacks. But it seems to me that the more they are given, the angrier their children are. White liberals instigate and enable this mentality. Many of them are Jews, but here I want to part ways from many in these forums. If you could remove all the Jews from the country tomorrow, there would still be more than enough white “progressives” left to keep this disaster going.

I’m very pessimistic about the future, not only here but world-wide. It appears that most blacks are unable or unwilling to function as equals to other races, so they will need preferential treatment for a very long time, perhaps centuries. They will be a dead weight on this country and on the West in general. If the handouts stop, there will be violence.

America, your engine is strong, but a percentage of your population keeps applying the brakes, siphoning the gas, and stealing the battery.

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.