I don’t remember the moment that Andrew Breitbart came into
my consciousness. It must have been
something of a slow leakage… drip- drip- drip- his name popping up in
connection with exposing “truth”. Eventually, I realized this man was someone I
knew.
No. I hadn’t met him, but I knew him personally. He was me.
He was the free-spirited, New Wave-loving, Conservative load-mouth that I had
been for most of my life.
In high school, I was a Free-market Reagan Conservative,
happily sharing my zeal for American freedom and opportunity and often got into
heated discussions with other kids who believed that Reagan was somehow the bad
guy who was going to blow up the planet. These were joyful days when I would
let these misguided kids make their over-reaching statements, then come back
with facts. More then one high schooler came away from our chats as newly born
Conservatives. And always, it was a respectful exchange amongst our different
ethnicities.
College afforded me more opportunities “to change hearts and
minds” though it was on campus that I first encountered “the racist”
argument. I remember one conversation
with a very attractive black man. What started out as flirting became a
conversation about the “old, white men who have always controlled the Government
and the People”. Thomas Jefferson’s slaves were even invoked to which I started
talking about liberty and freedom; about the need of each of us, as
individuals, to be able to live without the government in our lives or
bedrooms. He agreed whole-heartedly, and when I told him that I was
paraphrasing Thomas Jefferson, a light came on in his eyes. “This” was the
America he longed for, but had been convinced that Republicans were the party
of BIG Government.
I marched into adulthood with pride in my principles and God
on my side. I was unafraid.
Moving on to University, I had my first taste of
institutional racism. During a literature class, we were asked to share our
nationality and our “core” beliefs. I stated that I was Costa Rican and white,
and that I was a Conservative Catholic. The professor paused for a long time.
Then she spoke. “You don’t count as a Latina, because you look Italian or something.”
With that, I was dismissed from
serious conversation. Of course, that
wasn’t my style at all and I quickly became the most out-spoken student in
class… which led to being the most out-spoken student on campus… and that led
to being the most hated student to the Progressive Faculty. They dealt me a
heavy hand and by graduation, my spirit was wounded.
Limping along, squashed by the hipness of California
Liberalism, I lost my voice. Every turn felt like another dead-end. And then…
like a leaky faucet, Andrew Breitbart seeped into my broken moral fiber. Here
was a man who embraced controversy. He accepted the challenge, not because he
had nothing better to do, but because it was the right thing to do. My voice
has been coming back to me because it is the right thing to do.
When Andrew Breitbart died, I had a moment of clarity. “There, but for the Grace of
God, go I." rang long and loud in my grieving mind. Doctors had told
me just months earlier that I would survive Breast Cancer. Without Breitbart, I
thought , the world is going to need a new force for freedom. That must be why
I survived. Because I’m needed to gear up for that fight.
On reflection, Andrew Breitbart was right about everything,
or at least everything that matters, and his influence has changed our society
forever. The New Media Movement has become nearly the only source of actual
journalistic investigation and one must turn to Twitter and the Blogosphere for
news that is unspoiled by Media Matters and the Progressive Agenda. That’s the
legacy that Andrew Breitbart left us. In life, he whetted our thirst for truth;
and in death, he continues to inspire us to drink of it.
And so it is.
Thank you, Andrew Breitbart!
He is me!
Go see "Hating Breitbart" in the Theater!
It's worth it!
@Paleo_Writer
@HatingBreitbart
@BreitbartNews
#HatingBreitbart
#WAR
