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On Racism, Tweets, the Media, and Wolves.
I was 8 years old when I encountered racism for the first time.
Before I get into my experiences, let me quickly skip to the punchline. A couple months ago, I tweeted something which was both out of pocket and for me, out of character. I posted an anti-Catholic, anti-Black, anti-Jewish tweet, when I should have posted an anti-city tweet, but let’s cover the urban/rural dichotomy in another article.
Let us begin.
To put the situation into context: The Upper Midwest is home to the overwhelming majority of American citizens with Scandinavian ancestry, particularly Norwegians, Danes, and Swedes. I myself am only half Nordic, and therefore only half Scandinavian, and I certainly do not look like your standard Norwegian at first glance.
I was 8 years old when I first encountered full blown explicit racism from a 10 year old who did not like the way I looked.
I always enjoyed watching my cousins compete in athletics.
I was at my eldest cousin’s baseball game in small town Wisconsin, a place with a population of about 2,000 people. At first I was confused. I did not realize what was going on. Fortunately, I had two other cousins with me, one of whom was my age exactly, and the other who was 2 years older than me, but two years younger than our then-12-year old cousin, who was playing shortstop at the time. Our older cousin defended me, and probably my same-age cousin as well, as the bully was larger than both of us, with such an age gap often meaning a large weight and strength differences for boys of said ages.
To say that such an experience affects someone to the point where it forever wil be a part of them might have some truth to it.
Thankfully, through my mother and my grandfather I learned the power of forgiveness, grace, and perhaps above all, patience for one’s fellow man. That is not to say that I don’t need to exert effort to put these virtues into practice. That is the way virtues function, almost by definition.
That being said, when you go from a private, small middle school to a relatively large public high school and not a week goes by without hearing some sort of comment about how you look different from everyone else, it starts to wear on you.
When one doesn’t stick up for themselves and demands minimum level of respect, if not fear, resentment grows, and possibly a small form of self-loathing.
Although it is not always a malignant epithet like “spick,” “dirty Mexican,” “beaner,” or some other variant, it wears on someone nonetheless.
Napoleon Dynamite (2004), an American classic, does a fantastic job of showcasing what life is like in the American Midwest, also known as “the middle of nowhere.”
I recall during track & field practice (I was a very average sprinter) my junior year something very striking, which has stuck with me. We were in the midst of warmups and we were inside because the season had just started. Multiple people were calling me “illegal Mexican” or some variant thereof, and as usual, I was saying nothing and ignoring them. I recall something that Cale, probably the most popular kid in our grade, said with confidence: “Adds is American!”
Almost everyone stopped the jawing within a few seconds.
Cale was a running back and the most popular guy in our grade.
It was a bit surprising to me because Cale himself had called me names in the past, usually in a passive aggressive manner in our homeroom class, and probably for no other reason than what I call “athletic competitive resentment,” as he himself was an outstanding athlete.
However, counterintuitively, my resentment did not reach its peak until I travelled to Guam my senior year. Although it wasn’t immediate, as I had to merge in with the rest of the social body and find a lunch table to sit at, the experience was mind-blowing to me at the time and I remember it clearly to this day.
People did not seem to care that I was a racial amalgamation, and felt a level of tolerance and acceptance, that prior to my time on Guam, I did not know existed.
There were students of English, Black, Scandinavian, Mexican, Spanish, and Jewish descent, not to mention mixes of the formers of all kinds.
It was then that I fully realize the extent of the verbal abuse and differential treatment I had been born into in my native state of Wisconsin. And indeed, it was then that my resentment grew and grew, piqued, and of course, the 17 year old Addy Adds took it out on the wrong people, something for which he made amends.
Now, I want to add a caveat about Guam which extends to not just said U.S. protectorate, but most, if not all, of Micronesia and Polynesia; Islanders there are quite racist against white people, whom they call “Howleys.”
It is because of this fact, which is colored by the conquering of those lands by empires of European stock (although the Empire of Japan also conquered Micronesia) that my red-haired, green-eyed mother, who had once been told by two elderly Germans when she was young (who my mom thinks may have been Nazis at one point) that she looked like the “perfect German”, realized that, for the first time in her life, people negatively discriminated against her because of something which was out of her control: her racial appearance.
An AI depiction of my mother.
So, it was not that Guam was a diverse and tolerant paradise. Rather, it was that for once in my life I didn’t stick out because of the way I looked. I may have stuck out nonetheless at times, but it was due to different reasons entirely.
At the University of Wisconsin-Madison, I again experienced racism, although that may have been due to sexual jealousy, which IMO was the product of two women (whether purposely or not) making their male partners at the time jealous of the brief attention they gave me. Yet another reason I wish I had been combat-trained prior to going to college, but let us not digress.
By the time I was a freshman I had already been to Guam and back, and when a Jew from one of the coasts (called ‘Coasties’) made a joke about “jumping a fence/crossing a border” I challenged him to an escalation of the situation with the implication being we would go into combat.
He backed down, and offered to buy me something in response. I rejected his offer, something which I think he took some offense to. Some men’s respect cannot be bought, it has to be earned.
So in college, in one of the worst liberal propaganda (i.e. “We Are Diversity”) cesspools in the nation, I was again on the receiving end of racism, even if it was a bit more benign.
Fast forward to 2021.
I am sitting at the DC players club bar next to my girlfriend at the time.
To put it into context, she stood at least five inches taller than me, was voluptuous in every sense of the word, and had a successful modeling career working for one of the most famous model agencies in the world (to remain unnamed) under her belt.
So, we’re sitting at the bar. The bartenders and waiters in the bar are all black. I excuse myself to go and urinate. I am followed into the bathroom by two of said black men, and as I leave the restroom I am followed by two more, four in total. They claim that I am “too drunk” and have to leave. Clearly, I see what is happening. They want me to escalate the situation so they can beat me to a living pulp: four on one. Very honorable indeed.
I calmly let them escort me outside and no more than 10 seconds later my lady appears and we leave for a different locale.
She made a joke about a time when a black girl physically fought her, seemingly because she was the most beautiful woman in the room at the time, whatever room that was, and quipped about how I was “like the male version” of her.
Again, perhaps not exclusively racism, but more likely sexual envy.
Combine that with my experience in college of getting jumped for no reason (envy?) by a black guy on Langdon Street in Madison, Wisconsin in the spring of 2017 and having my wallet be the target of larceny at the laundromat on Bassett Street, by a different black male, again that same spring, one can see how that combined with my childhood experiences, there may have still been some resentment present.
It would be remiss not to also mention the role the media has played with regards to society over the past few years.
Whether it is blurring out the faces of black criminals while showing the white suspects faces on the front pages of newspapers and headlines, to letting black criminals, sometimes even murderers, walk free on bond while Americans, mostly of European descent, are held without due process in a prison in the District of Columbia by the federal government, anyone reading in between the lines can see that the controllers of the media want Americans to have a race war, a race war which my intelligence/combat mentor, Major Jeffrey Prather (RET.), stated they’ve failed to bring about.
As for my former publisher at National File, who I wrote about somewhat extensively already, as well as the CIA freelancer who runs the aforementioned outlet from behind the scenes, the both of them describe themselves as Catholic.
This publisher, Fritsch, is one of the most disrespectful men I have ever encountered, anywhere in the 14 countries I have traversed in my entire time on this earth.
The CIA freelancer, who works hand-in-hand with Fritsch, also tried to blackmail me.
I honestly don’t know many Catholics, but I do know that most people who like to tout religion or describe themselves as religious, often do not behave in a “Godly” or morally upstanding way, which gives whatever religion they ascribe to a bad reputation.
One of my former writing mentors, who you actually may follow on Twitter, unless he has changed his beliefs, is a self-identified Catholic and one of the most polite and most adept writers I know. My writing improved greatly thanks to his counsel.
One of my closest supporters is a Black guy, not much older than myself, and I am also close with the great legal teacher and independent reporter, Dave Jose.
My former media producer/studio manager is Jewish, and although we haven’t worked together for a couple years (because there is no money in telling the truth) if I give him a call, he will usually pick up (when he is not working that is).
So, where I am going with this?
Well, definitely don’t tweet when you are not in a rational and calm state of mind.
Definitely reach out to your friends, and family, and let them know you appreciate them. They may be here for a much shorter time than you realize.
And definitely do not allow all the hate and darkness which the mainstream media (MSM) is helping to fuel, turn you to the dark side. Even for a minute or two.
And definitely remember to feed the right wolf.
An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.
“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
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Addy Adds is a 100% independent author, writer, investigative journalist, independent video producer, radio talk show host, and editor. His work has been stolen by hundreds and viewed/read by millions. Once called the “best young mind in political journalism,” with his work also described as “genius,” Addy Adds turned down an in-field recruitment from the CIA during his coverage of Brazil in 2022, the first known instance of such an event to be caught on video.