Years back, I operated a pseudonymous blog on which I spouted a lot of misguided stupidity about a lot of topics — including issues touching on race and gender.
A lot of the stuff I wrote on my blog and in comments sections on other websites were hare-brained responses to stupid arguments taking place within the tiny community of bloggers I knew at the time. I wrote a lot of stuff that I didn’t believe, but I’d write about it for the sake of argument, and sometimes to be provocative or to piss off other bloggers.
I’ve matured immeasurably since then, and I regret that I put these ill-formed thoughts out into the public domain.
There’s no good excuse for a lot of what I wrote. At this point, I can only try to understand what fueled the anger behind a lot of my writings. I was a waiter at the time with a ton of student debt. My job contributed to the chip on my shoulder that showed itself through some of my writings, as did a couple of negative experiences I had prior to starting the blog. I felt like a nobody as a waiter, though I wanted to be someone that people respected. I discovered that it is quite easy to get attention from people on the Internet by saying bombastic and controversial things.
A bad breakup fueled some of my writings on gender relations. My writings about racial issues were a bit more complicated.
I am named after a black man, Charles Ross, my adopted grandfather. Two of my aunts are bi-racial, as is my cousin. I would not trade the racial and ethnic diversity in my family for anything. But I did have one jarring experience a few years before I started blogging that, though I didn’t realize it at the time, would go on to fuel some some of my writings about race relations.
A few years before I started blogging I was jumped, stomped and kicked by a group of black guys while leaving a night club. I’d never had a cross word with a black person at the time, and definitely did not provoke the attack. The guys beating me said stuff about me being white. My brother was also beaten up under similar circumstances.
Admittedly, this left a bad taste in my mouth, and I used that incident to justify my feelings that I was a victim of some sort. I’m am extremely privileged person, I now know. But at the time, I was consumed by my feelings of powerlessness and lack of success in life and expressed them on the Web.
I am assuredly not racist. It’s a cliche — but I have black friends and get along very well with black people, including my family members. Nobody who knows me in real life believes that I have any racist bone in my body.
My story goes to show how easily a good person can become misguided on the Internet. Looking back, I’m amazed that I fell into a virtual rabbit hole on some of these controversial topics. What started out as a blog sharing stupid work-a-day musings and thoughts on sports and politics turned into something darker. And it happened quickly without me realizing the change. I do not stand by much of it, didn’t really believe a lot of it even at the time and I’m sorry I wrote it. The only positive is that exposing myself to some of these ideas has taught me how wrong they were.
In one small way, I am glad that this is coming out. I’ll admit, it’s something I’ve thought about from time to time. I’ve considered writing an essay on my experiences, but I wasn’t sure if there would be any point. I stand by my reporting at The Daily Caller and take pride in my reporting there, even if I am unable to say the same about my past work.