I am what is known as an "inspirational speaker." I tell a general
interest story of hardship and survival, of struggle and success.
Over the past twelve years or so, I must have done some 500-plus programs
and keynotes for huge organizations, mostly in education, in practically
every state of the Union and Canada. I have addressed groups as large as
8,000, and once a major keynote was broadcast coast-to-coast by all three
major networks.
On more than one occasion, I have received higher billing than a State's
senator or congressman. (I remember Alabama, particularly, where Senator
Heflin sat next to me and told some gags that made my hair stand up on
end. . . ) Several years ago, I did the Interclub Annual for the City of
Long Beach where, I was told, I followed Ronald Reagan.
Two years ago, when Senator Feinstein had to cancel the San Diego Women's
Day booking, I was called to fill her spot. I have spoken at dozens and
dozens of universities and colleges - so many, in fact, that I have stopped
listing them in my press kit.
I'm dropping all these accolades to let you know that it is not as though
I'm not a tried and trusted speaker. I am known to draw crowds and please
audiences, and years ago I stopped courting the media to cover an event.
My name and my story are usually enough to secure an adequate turn-out.
You wouldn't have thought so, however, when a few days ago I was flown
out to lecture at a Junior College up in Seattle, Washington. I spoke to
empty chairs.
How did that come about? Search me. Your guess is as good as my guess.
It started with a handful of youngsters who wanted to have their own student
club and who dared to have the word "white" in their mission
statement describing themselves and their goals. They went out of their
way to state that they believed in equal treatment for all races, which
they assumed included them.
It turned out they were wrong.
Their first step was a modest web site. The name they chose was bland enough
- it was called the "Euro-American Student Union", or ESU for
short. The idea caught on, and soon there was another college campus in
the area that followed suit, and inquiries from several colleges in other
states arrived about logistics and specifics to start clubs of their own.
Almost immediately, the Nizkor Buttinskys got into the act, trying to shame
and deride them on-line for daring to invite me to give them visibility.
Next thing that happened was that Morris Dees flew out to badmouth them
on television, deriding them for being "racist". Then an adviser
received an anonymous phone call whose purpose was to rake up dirt. This
was followed by intimidating e-mail telling students involved in organizing
club activities that they were ruining their future by their action, for
once they graduated, no one would want to hire them. There was hostility
on campus not only from their fellow students but from the faculty.
A few days before I was scheduled to lecture, I received a call from someone
in administration who wanted to know what, precisely, I was going to say
in my address. I went out of my way assuring him that I was not a political
speaker - that the content of my lecture had to do with valuing one's country
and one's own ancestry and practicing responsibility to honor the above.
I asked what kind of audience to expect, and he told me that, in the past,
the auditorium held 300 chairs and usually was filled for lectures such
as mine. He said that it depended on the faculty - their being willing
to release the classes so kids could come and listen.
They weren't willing, it turned out. In fact, they were remarkably unwilling.
A total of 15 people showed up, including an elderly couple-of the organizing
student's grandparents. Of the remaining 13, far as I could tell, only
one person was not part of, or somehow associated with, the ethnically
"offending" club.
This on a campus of more than 5,000! It was clear that the word had gone
out.
Said one of the kids who had co-sponsored me: "I feel my college let
me down." That's putting it politely. These white kids have been treated
to a powerful lesson - that they are disowned and dishonored in their own
country by their own "betters" for wanting to claim what is theirs.
We met afterwards and talked for some four hours over pizza and Pepsi,
and I learned more from them, I am quite sure, than they have learned from
me.
Make no mistake - these kids now know.
They know the enemy who tries destroying them by robbing them of their
identity. I was amazed at just how much these youngsters knew: just how
it was done, just who was behind it, and what it all meant for the future.
They were polite, articulate, well-mannered - and informed. God, are these
kids informed! Their knowledge of Revisionism is astounding. More yet,
there was a tightness and resolve and doggedness to them that was a treat
and luxury to watch. If they are representative of what is going on at
other campuses, not all is lost. Trust me: Not all is lost.
In fact, much might be gained for this small group from this experience
of humiliation. At this young age, when tribal unity is everything and
ideals mean a lot, a hurt like that goes deep.
I felt for them, but I was also proud of them - for some of them had even
come in suits.
Ingrid
Thought for the Day:
"An infallible method of conciliating a tiger is to allow oneself
to be devoured."