My Realizations The Autobiography of Julian Lee  /  COPYRIGHT 2009 JULIAN LEE
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In the preceding section of early life experiences I included two items that had racial aspects. I raise them here primarily because of the times today -- what's going on in the world today -- and the particular role I felt obligated to play in later life, that of becoming one of a growing number of demonized pro-White advocates.

Neither of these experiences loomed large in my life, or even affected me much, but there is a message in that. I daresay they did not affect me as they should have, humanly and logically. I never discussed the strange kidnapping with anybody, even with my brothers. Didn't even tell my mother. Which is strange, isn't it. Was I consciously covering for the black girls already at the age of four?

I add this section as away of explaining more about myself. Notwithstanding these experiences I became like most Whites around me during the 1960s through 1970s -- carrying a vague "white guilt" and overzealousness to be  receptive and friendly toward blacks et al. This was presented by media and some teachers as the ideal, and we European folk like ideals.

Just like so many of the masses today, I became a "multiculturalist" and even thought so-called "diversity" was a thrill. Because why? Because perhaps that would assuage the Terrible Racial Tension and Injustice that had been hyped and blared at me by media. We all grew up in a kind of extended Coke commercial that celebrated fleshly diversity in what had been White America. This would help Set The World Right. In reality humanity had other problems more dire than "racial division" -- the old things like greed, lust, or family disloyalty. But like everybody else, I was affected by the agendas set by the media owners and writers.

In other words, despite these negative early experiences by my teens I was giving the Bigtime Benefit-of-The-Doubt to blacks and others even unto absurdity. I imbibed more propaganda and do-gooder altruism from the media around me than I imbibed from my own personal experiences -- which is embarrassing to admit.

White people are noble and they don't want to be "racist" -- especially if "racist' is propounded as immoral or a character flaw. In brief, by my teens I was very typical and like so many who I see today, in my racial views. The masses nowadays seem to have the same neurosis and blind spots that I had in my teens and twenties. Yet my neurosis stopped short of any worship of blacks, which seems to be the more advanced condition of many propagandized whites these days.

But deeper than this, here is the person who went through those experiences, and what he thought: When the two mean black girls were holding me hostage up on the chimney, my mind was going:

"Well, these two girls obviously have a chip on their shoulder, are misbehaving and doing what's wrong, and are obviously ignorant. But as blacks I guess they've been through a lot. They're probably not all like that. These are poor kids. They obviously have issues. I hope they don't break my arm though. That would be a drag to be a cripple starting young."

Likewise, when the black boys down the street were throwing dangerous rocks at us, as I processed it later on, my thoughts were similar:

"Well, I guess there is something called racial tension and blacks have some animosity toward Whites. They shouldn't do violent things, and it's ignorant to do that, but I guess there is a history here and they have a chip on their shoulders, which might not be the spiritually wisest approach to take."

That was my basic way of processing all that as a boy. For these reasons, the events didn't really mark me much. I had compassion for other people and the ability to understand that things may have made them the way they are.

On the other hand, I didn't bend over backwards in myself to excuse them, thinking "Oh, they had a right to do that"  -- a reaction that more gullible people feel today and which I find both disingenuous and craven. But neither did I want to mordantly disparage blacks over it. Rather, I simply observed the truth before me and kept conclusions in abeyance. I was that refined in my thinking even by age five. I am an observer.

Thus around the age of thirteen my friends and I met our first black, in Greenwood Park, and he introduced himself as "Johnny Junebug." That was his hippy name. He was a handshaker and wanted to shake our hands in the "black" way, which me and my buddies -- Kevin, Jerry -- thought was droll. He wore flamboyant clothes reminiscent of an Arabic harem dancer, and seemed to be always present where longhairs were gathering, such as at rock concerts or Greenwood Park. We felt pleased to actually know a black, finally, and responded to him over-large openness and friendliness, pleased that he did not have the icy, challenging attitude of other black males.

You know, back then, if you walked past most black males on a sidewalk -- even we young 12-year-olds, they would "play chicken" with you, refusing to vary from their walking path even one inch and forcing you to do all the moving-aside, this as a show of aggression and dominance, and creating a certain danger line for you. (What if I accidentally bump him? Does he then attack me?) This was a common experience for me as a young White man in Des Moines. They also had a certain way of walking as they did it, proudly, with their back angling back a ways and their legs coming forward in long strides. R. Crumb, the demented cartoonist, likely modeled the long stride of "Mr. Natural," enlarged foot forward, after this strut. ("Keep on truckin.') Meeting the friendly Johnny Junebug was a relief for my friends and I, because he was friendly and seemed to have no chip on his shoulder.  But the point is that my reaction to him, notwithstanding my other experiences, was friendly and receptive. I recall that both my friends and I (Kevin and others) -- felt a nimbus of goodness around us after we met Johnny Junebug and had shown our friendliness to him. I retrospect I see this as beautiful in a way and deluded in other ways. It turned out as we saw him more he was a salesman: He was selling marijuana and that was part of his avidness to be where the White hippies gathered. Later as an adult he was involved in social activism on behalf of blacks, you know, grievance work -- the sort of thing Whites are prohibited from doing.

Later I ended up having quite a lot more interactions with so-called African-Americans (Why can't we be called European-Americans?) This extended to serving on committees with them, living with three different black adults in their homes on different occasions, getting letters from them via Christian Children's Fund, and raising a mixed White-Black stepson. Around age 20 I joined a rather odd religion called The Baha'i Faith, which can literally be described as a multi-culturalist and race-mixing religion. But in the end my view became like this: Blacks have particular racial flaws and strengths; so do Whites. The peoples are good. Mixing them together does not destroy the fundamental problems of life, or samsara. It only destroys the unique types that nature and God have taken eons to create. And there are quite a few more than 7 billion beings to try to love or take care of; life only gives us the opportunity to really love a few.

But before arriving at this balanced view I was beset by the usual case of Media-Induced White Do-Gooderism. My view today is that White people have noble qualities that make them easily manipulated. If constantly presented with a certain thing as "a Problem," they have predictable reactions. So, as I grew up I wasn't taught to have compassion or grievance over, say, the hundreds of thousands of White European men who were sacrificed or maimed in wars on behalf of financial interests. I was much more directed by media to the sufferings of black people.

The television, likewise, did not teach me to worry about my father's daily life and how he slaved in a stuffy office for his family. Instead, by the time he got home I was filled with the problem of black people in some past time. There is great power in media and that power should be used responsibly. At the present time the people who own media are not the friends of White people. They direct the White minds (especially the youth) to the "problems" which, once the youth are addled over those 'problems," gives maximum service to those media owners and their peoplehood.

I write further about my later views on race here.