I grew up in a conservative blue-collar home with parents who really weren’t very political. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I even heard either one of them say anything about any politician.
I didn’t hear my parents talk down about black people or use the N word or make any racist comments. I entered adulthood with a clean slate, for me to be able to come to my own conclusions and beliefs on just about everything.
As a young adult, I didn’t see black people, black teenagers, or men as thugs, thieves, or someone to be fearful of. I didn’t really even think about it.
My feelings started to change about twenty years ago when two black men broke into my home, beat, stabbed, and raped me. I had come home from the hospital the day before after giving birth to my son. I was awakened in the middle of the night by these animals. My husband worked the third shift and I was home alone with my newborn son.
My newborn son was just feet from me and to this day the memories of them pointing a knife towards my son, promising to carve him up if I screamed haunts me. To this day it evokes emotions of fear and pain and often wakes me in the middle of the night. I can still see them, smell them and hear the vile racist comments they made towards me throughout the entire ordeal.
My rape, which to this day I struggle to deal with isn’t the only event in my life that has solidified my feelings.
I have had my home robbed, my car stolen, each time by black men. My son was beat up by two black teens when he refused to give them his iPod. There have been other things in my life also that have happened that have only cemented my feelings. Then there is just the day to day dealings, newspaper articles, and onslaught of crime we see every single day perpetrated by the black community. No one forces someone to commit a crime, so the only one who should be blamed is the perpetrator. It isn’t that white people don’t commit crimes; it is just that the black community commits such a disproportionate amount of crime.
In my adult life while owning my own business, twice I took on partners to grow my business. Both times I had money and equipment stolen by the black partner or their family members they let in after hours.
The second time I walked in on my partners son robbing me of the electronics stock. He bashed me the head and I spent more than two weeks in the hospital. I have struggled severely with PTSD and agoraphobia and at times do not leave my home for months.
With the events that have happened in my life, we also have the statistics that cannot nor should not be ignored.
Then less than a month after putting up my website I get several emails through the contact page threatening me and the life of my family.
I didn’t advocate or call for violence against any race. I didn’t call for violence against black people. I have legitimate concerns about the black community. I have a right to speak and call for personal responsibility. I have a right to share my concerns and give a forum for other people to do the same.
The men who raped me, who stole from me and who beat my son did so because they chose to. The events in my life that I have experienced with and by black people have been negative at best and violent at worst.
So when I see a black man, with the drooping pants, trying his best to look, walk and act like someone from a Tupac video – yes I see someone who is more likely to hurt me than help.
The statics have been proven in my life to be true and I don’t apologize for how I feel, nor should I