How I Became A Conservative:

From Liberal Activist to Trump Supporter (My awakening)

I always knew I would become a writer as I was always a bookworm and as a child, I read more books than any of my friends. I loved writing stories when I was in grade school, and I am grateful that I had many wonderful teachers at Lake Avenue Elementary school who encouraged me and would give me extra time to polish whatever story I was working on.

As I got older, I envisioned myself working at a newspaper writing my own column, and that became a reality for me at not one but two newspapers long before I had a college degree. My foray into politics was completely by accident, or was it?

I grew up with my maternal grandmother and she was not at all political. I knew she voted but she would never tell me who she voted for, and to this day I do not know what political party she belonged to.

As a teenager I started to think of myself as a Democrat as I had a big heart for the poor, minorities and other people that were considered disadvantaged. I was led to believe that Democrats were for the common working-class man and that the Republicans hated the working-class and poor people in general.

My upbringing wasn’t the most conventional, but it was consistent in structure, and I was made to go to Catholic Mass every Sunday at St. Peter’s with Catholic instruction directly after.

My grandmother owned the house we lived in, but she was a housekeeper for the President of Skidmore College, so I knew we were working-class. If I am clever and resourceful, I have my grandmother to thank for that. She earned additional money by renting the downstairs apartment to Skidmore girls and she rented out rooms in our apartment to the same cast of characters every summer for racing season. When I was a child Saratoga was the August place to be.

August in Saratoga was a much-anticipated event that involved the entire city.

Our kitchen table was filled with smoke and loud chatter of a game of cards and the distinctive aroma of lime and gin and tonics. Things would get heated when the topic of politics would inevitably come up. I would listen from my bedroom trying to make sense of who was winning whatever card game and political argument they were having.

I was always the first one up in the house and I was always amazed that the kitchen would be perfectly cleaned up with no evidence of anyone being there the night before.

As I got older, I wasn’t thrilled that I would be sequestered to the sweltering little back room while my bedroom was rented out. I wanted to spend more time with my friends and less time with out-of-town company that took up too much space in our house.

At this point I suppose I was on my way to being a bleeding-heart liberal. I voted for Democratics when I turned 18 because I thought it was the right thing to do.

In my last year of High School, I moved to Brooklyn to live with my mother. Brooklyn was the polar opposite of Saratoga Springs. I was a hick from the sticks. I liked the multi-cultural aspect of living in the big city, but New York City wasn’t exactly the melting pot it claimed to be. I would frequently see fights on the subway, and it wasn’t unusual to be followed down the street by some creepy guy.

In the early 1990’s I needed a change of scenery and moved to San Francisco. I occasionally wrote articles for a couple of local independent papers that dealt with issues of poverty and class issues. I became an activist. But I saw things I wasn’t on board with. One time we were protesting in front of the city jail at 850 Bryant Street.

The complaint was that the inmates weren’t being treated fairly. I started asking questions. One of the complaints from inmates was that the pillows weren’t soft enough and the wools blankets were too scratchy. I remember commenting to another activist that it WAS JAIL and not a BED AND BREAKFAST. She gave me a look like I had gone crazy. It wasn’t the right thing to say. I was out of pocket. But I continued to ask questions which is a no-no amongst Leftists. At another protest, I got pissed off about something and called some of the activists for being hypocrites and making back room deals with the very people who they claimed were our adversaries.

I was naive. Young and dumb. I was a poor working-class girl from upstate New York. These fellow activists ‘played poverty’ while I actually lived it. It took me many years to figure out that many of these activists were rich kids who had gone to Mills College and Cal (UC Berkeley) and other fancy schools while claiming to be part of the downtrodden. I had called their bluff.

I was quickly excommunicated, and they refused to even acknowledge me when I passed them on the street in the Tenderloin (where their office was) The last few years in San Francisco I started listening to Mike Savage and started to think of myself as a Conservative. I moved back to New York State in 2001. Since then, the Democratic Party has become completely unhinged. Cancel culture is their legacy. They attempt to destroy anyone who dares to disagree with them. The biggest lie (and there are too many to write about here) is that the Democrats care about people and those who are considered marginalized. They care about NO ONE. All they care about is POWER and CONTROL.

Trump has the changed the game. The Establishment types underestimated him. They underestimated the millions of voters who are sick of government waste, fraud and criminal behavior. American's have had enough of the double standards, race wars, sexual degeneracy, random violence, phony celebrities and infiltration of millions of illegals who have no business being in this country. Americans are pushing back and are ready to revolt. I want my country back. I want morals, values and civility to make a comeback. Anything less than that is unacceptable.

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