Gen-X & The JQ

Or: How I Learned To Start Worrying And Notice The Jews

_{An article submitted to Amerikaner.org by Jeannie Peterson. If you would like to submit your own content, please email amerikanercontributions@proton.me}

It happened about two years ago. Already active in /our thing/ for a few years, I fully grokked race realism, biological bases for IQ and behavior, r/K selection, and professed a profound love of my people (and disdain for mixing) – but I just didn’t get the whole Jew thing. It was my fault, I never looked into it any deeper than rolling my eyes at memes. Some folks in our circles seemed to have such a laser-focus on complaining about Tribal Subversion they spent little time or energy building community and planning for a future for our people. Sure, sure there were too many *bergs in positions of power in Hollywood, government, and industry. Yes, of course I knew they were pushing open borders for us but not for Israel. But I still had the feeling things were blown out of proportion. Until (((they))) ruined one of the happiest memories of my childhood.

I was born just a few years after the Hart-Celler Act and grew up in a small town with a >95% White population. “Diversity” in my neighborhood meant White American families with German, Polish, English, and Welsh heritage—and that one Italian family at the end of the block. Like many of my generation, I was under-supervised and often parked in front of the TV with pretzels and Kool-Aid. This will sound quaint and a little corny, but I actually learned the parts of speech, multiplication tables, and some American history from the original Schoolhouse Rock! series. Three was indeed a magic number. I unpacked my adjectives, picked up my adverbs at Lolly’s, flew through our solar system with Interplanet Janet, and knew every word of the Preamble to the Constitution—all thanks to the power of music. Gosh, I loved singing those songs. My favorite one was The Great American Melting Pot. With a folksy hook, precious animation, and a beautiful tale of bootstraps nineteenth-century immigrants, it made me cry more times than I can count. If you haven’t heard this song, please watch/listen here, or take the time to read the lyrics below in preparation for the painful punchline of this essay.

The Great American Melting Pot (1977)

My grandmother came from Russia
A satchel on her knee,
My grandfather had his father's cap
He brought from Italy.

They'd heard about a country
Where life might let them win,
They paid the fare to America
And there they melted in.

Lovely Lady Liberty
With her book of recipes
And the finest one she's got
Is the great American melting pot.
The great American melting pot.

America was founded by the English,
But also by the Germans, Dutch, and French.
The principle still sticks;
Our heritage is mixed.
So any kid could be the president.

You simply melt right in,
It doesn't matter what your skin.
It doesn't matter where you're from,
Or your religion, you jump right in
To the great American melting pot.
The great American melting pot.
Ooh, what a stew, red, white, and blue.

America was the New World
And Europe was the Old.
America was the land of hope,
Or so the legend told.

On steamboats by the millions,
In search of honest pay,
Those 19th-century immigrants sailed
To reach the U.S.A.

Lovely Lady Liberty
With her book of recipes
And the finest one she's got
Is the great American melting pot.
The great American melting pot.
What good ingredients,
Liberty and immigrants.

They brought the country's customs,
Their language and their ways.
They filled the factories, tilled the soil,
Helped build the U.S.A.

Go on and ask your grandma,
Hear what she has to tell
How great to be an American
And something else as well.

Lovely Lady Liberty
With her book of recipes
And the finest one she's got
Is the great American melting pot.
The great American melting pot.
The great American melting pot.

“You just melt right in,” I sang, smiling inside thinking about my great-grandmother as a teenager coming to the U.S. from Austria and working off her passage as a live-in nanny for a German family in New York City when she met my great-grandfather at a small restaurant that served German food to a primarily German clientele. Adventure! Romance! Success! Securing the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity! This—THIS! was The Great American Melting Pot in my head. But that catchy song I loved so much wasn’t really about the past at all, it was about fortifying the plan to rip apart the fabric of America’s founding stock identities through a beautiful song used as an insidious instrument to seed the psyches of the young with unrealistic (in fact, disastrous) ideas about the strength and inevitability of diversity. It was advertising, selling the acceptance of the end of immigration quotas through the children and grandchildren of those who may object to forced mixing. I’d spent so much time lamenting the ham-handed indoctrination of my children (Millennials and Zoomers), I had completely not noticed my own.

Then I looked up the writer of the song.

The song I loved for more than 40 years, that I now recognized as political propaganda, was written by a Jew. Closing the loop started in 1908 by the play “The Melting Pot” written by a Jew who dreamed of the end of ethnic identities.

I am such a freaking marshmallow I started to cry. What else had I missed, had I failed to notice? This was my turning point, my “a-ha moment” for the JQ. I started reading and researching. I listened to lectures, asked questions in forums, and dagnabbit didn’t I finally wake up. All it took was the souring of Schoolhouse Rock! and destroying a beautiful piece of my childhood to get me there.

I wish I had a bullet-point list of perfect examples guaranteed to help you red pill your friends on the JQ. Or maybe a few links to the best articles, the best memes, the best podcasts—but I don’t. All I can offer is my experience—and encouragement to not give up on the 50+ crowd (heck, I’m not even giving up on the Boomers!) Everyone is reachable, sometimes through the most unlikely avenues. Help your friends start noticing, it could start with a song.