My name is Victoria Belbin, and I am an aspiring lawyer from Uxbridge, Ontario, Canada. I attended Trent University in Peterborough, Ontario, Canada from 2014-2018. I have an interesting story to tell, as I grew up in a Conservative family, but I was always a bleeding heart liberal. This has changed, as I have recently escaped from the grasp, toxicity, and emotional abuse of radical liberalism. At Trent, I would get swept into the liberalist riptide of conformity, as this is what institutions nowadays are indoctrinating students to believe is the only “truth” when it comes to the heavily polarized political, social, and economic climate in North America today. Heading into Trent, I double-majored in history and political science, but, over the course of my time at this institution, I would begin to believe that there was no point in this, as I was made to believe that the history and politics that was being taught was “colonial”, “white”, “problematic”, “violent”, and whatever other buzzwords that the Left uses to suppress these legitimate and important avenues of learning.
My love for history would peak in high school, as I had the opportunity to go abroad to France and Belgium for a Remembrance Tour, and the main focal point for this trip was the 95th Anniversary of Vimy Ridge. If you are familiar with Canadian military history, you would know that this is one of the most proud and triumphant moments in Canadian history, at least in my opinion. This was when I was sixteen, and this trip completely changed my life. Prior to this trip, I had been apathetic and carefree when it came to my studies and my academic well-being, but whilst on this trip, I found my passion and my voice when it came to history. I fell in love with the history of the World Wars, and being able to visit memorials, battlegrounds, and monuments, the history truly came to life. There is something to be said about living history versus just reading about it, and I can say with absolute certainty that this history would truly come to life; it was personalized and humanized, and it was no longer just about theorizing. We had left for this trip, after having done research on particular soldiers from Uxbridge that had gone overseas (some being distant relatives of some of the students and staff that had attended), and, some of us were able to connect with their final resting place. We were able to help tell their story. There is something incredibly personal and humanistic about being able to learn about their histories. We also had the great privilege of being able to connect with local Veterans at our Legion in Uxbridge, and had the opportunity to talk and listen. These interactions are undervalued these days, as many youth do not understand (or care) about the importance of historical events, and being able to hear about them from folks who were there IS life changing. The most powerful moment of this trip was on the beaches of Normandy, Juno in particular, which is the Canadian D-Day beach. Another powerful moment was being able to visit Dieppe, which was an Allied tactical failure, but it was personal, as my great grandfather had landed at there on August 19th, 1942. Fortunately, he did make it home. To make a long story short, this beach is nothing but rocks (ergo making it impossible for landing craft), and I had taken some of these rocks home, to have this piece of history and connection with my mom (as he was her grandfather).
At Juno Beach, our tour guides told us to stand where the water touches the shore and to close your eyes. There is this energy on the beach that is almost unexplainable, spiritual event, where you can hear the sounds of gunfire overriding the sounds of the waves; where you can hear the yells of the men who had been trying to come ashore; where you are able to connect meaningfully to those who gave their lives for that Allied triumph. This trip jolted me into reality. I was completely taken aback by the ages of the soldiers who had perished, as some were younger than I was at the time. Some of these soldiers were boys, young teenagers who were so eager to serve their country and protect the future of democracy in the Western world, that they left school to go overseas to fight a war, and here I was squandering my future away because of my general apathy and disdain for my studies. It would occur to me that there is no greater sacrifice than one’s own life, and to do so, selflessly, to secure my future, that of my family’s, and my country’s. I owed them more than the disrespect of self-destructing the future that they fought for. I have always had an appreciation, love, adoration, and respect, especially for military history and our Veterans who have fought in the wars of the past, and those who are still giving their lives in the name of justice, democracy, and freedom. Remembrance Day is one of the most important days of the year in my life, as we are reminded that we must remember our history in order to understand where we are going. This day, like everyday, also helps me to honour my great grandparents (on both my maternal and paternal sides), who fought to secure my future and that of my country’s. I never had the chance to meet any of my great grandparents, but I like to think that by wearing and honouring the poppy, that I am making them proud and that they are looking down on me, smiling. These are fundamental points that the Left does not understand. Without a doubt, there have been documented cases of atrocities committed during wartime, and I will not dismiss the severity of warcrimes, but, these issues are framed in the lenses of historical injustices, which are important to acknowledge on one hand, especially when it comes to correcting the mistakes of the past, and on the other hand, these events have been fundamental in shaping the Western world as we know it, and that is something that we need to be able to celebrate and honour, so the question remains, how do we reconcile these opposing viewpoints on the importance of history, precedent, and learning?
My first two years at Trent were pretty standard, but my third year is when I had gone rogue and abandoned everything that I believe, who I was, and where I was going. I had made the conscious decision to get involved with radical social justice, as it pertains to Indigenous Rights in Canada, and this was the furthest left that I have ever been. I was on the verge of anarchy, as the radical liberal youth are hellbent on dismantling colonial institutions, governance, structures, polices, legislation, etc. Their mission is to obliterate whiteness, as whiteness is inherently tied to white supremacy and colonialism. I would fall down this rabbit hole, being a white person, and it was a dangerous, damaging, and despicable series of unfortunate events that would unfold over eighteen months. I have always believed in social justice, especially when it comes to rights and freedoms, and I had started off wanting to be apart of something, you know? I wanted to be a driver of change, to help make our government accountable to all citizens, and to help make a difference in our world. This is something that I have always been motivated to do, but little did I know that under the doctrine of radical liberalism and allyship, that I, a white person, would be subject to a tremendous amount of emotional abuse because of who I am, what I believe, and where I am going. The radical change of who I was would happen gradually, but it was enough for folks to notice. I had drank too much kool-aid, and now, I am feeling empowered to talk about these experiences. Radical liberalism is a cult, and it speaks to their CULTure of conformity when it comes to governing the thought processes of youth (especially in liberal institutions, such as Trent). I would become a bully of the Left, as this change within myself would become most noticeable when I found myself increasingly angry, resentful, and hateful towards white people, and this would be because of my own struggles with self-loathing because of my whiteness. We are indoctrinated to believe that whiteness is the enemy, but there is only so much that you can do about that when you were born white. I do want to state straight up that I do not believe in white supremacy, as I do think that we can all agree that it is BS and has no place in our world. I have been accused of being a white supremacist because I am standing up for myself and because I am refusing to be beaten down by the radical Left anymore. These are powerful words that have been monopolized by the Left to help damage and destroy the lives of people who dare to oppose them. This has been a fear of mine in writing this article, but at this point, I think it needs to be said. I would be reprogrammed to believe in radical liberalism, and I would pick up what they were putting down. Of course, you do not recognize that you have joined a cult until you have escaped (or someone forces you to), but I will get to that.
The abusive tactics of the Left would range from delegitimizing my white “colonial” ancestry, to invalidating my degree, my goals, my aspirations, my dreams, and completely destroying my self-worth. They would crush my past work with environmentalism and completely obliterate my sense of belonging. I would begin to feel as if I did not belong in Canada, as I am a settler, so I must be white trash colonizer scum that has no right to exist because my direct ancestors have allegedly caused a tremendous amount of pain and trauma, and have committed absolutely horrible atrocities throughout history. I acknowledge that settlers have definitely not been perfect when it comes to history, as there has been a tremendous amount of injustice that has been perpetuated over centuries and I am not condoning or agreeing with any of it. I would find myself wondering what my responsibility was in past injustices, as I was being blamed for my ancestor’s actions. We are constantly told in the radical liberal cult that if we feel guilt (“white guilt”) for the actions of our ancestors, then we are just apart of the problem and not the solution, BUT, the radical liberal youth make us responsible for the actions of our ancestors, so we are caught in this cycle of guilt, responsibility, and problematic actions. It would take me awhile to realize that my existence would equal their oppression, and once that clicked, I recognized that I do not have a place in radical liberalism. I have since escaped from that emotional prison and have been trying to find my way back to who I am and where I come from. I have been trying to track my ancestry, to celebrate my roots and recognize that it is okay to talk about these issues. I have also been following Ben Shapiro and Jordan Peterson closely, as they remind me that Conservatism is not illegal; it is not illegal to have a difference of opinion or perspective, as debate and diplomacy are foundational concepts to both of our nations (Canada and the US). I have been trying to reconcile with folks that I have hurt as a result of my hate campaign against white people, and I have been writing a book about my time apart of the radical liberal cult. I have been hesitant to call myself a Conservative, as I know what happens to those who dare to speak out and oppose our liberal overlords, but coming from a history background, I recognize the need for pluralism and the pluralistic nature of ideas, the exchange of thoughts, and the balance of interests. I have been apart of the liberal hate mob, so I am well versed in their tactics of spewing endless hate, criticism, and ridicule, but I have since realized that if this is the response of the Left, then it is more paramount than ever that Conservatism survives, and that we are heard.