Confessions of a Black Conservative
Whenever people read my writing, they are often confused. Their expectations of who I should be, and what politics, beliefs, and views I should hold, are shaped by a narrow, leftist mold they assume I must fit into. Being a 25-year-old Black man, a devout Catholic, a proud Congolese, and a conservative does not align with the script they have written for me. It unsettles them. To many, it simply does not make sense.
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I am met with misunderstanding, skepticism, and at times, outright dismissal, not because of the content of my thoughts, but because of the perceived contradiction between my identity and my convictions. It reveals a more subtle form of prejudice, a quiet but persistent form of realism that assumes appearance should dictate ideology. If I look a certain way, then surely my beliefs must follow a certain script.
But I do not exist to conform to the expectations of a politicized narrative. My faith, my upbringing, my heritage, and my experiences have shaped a worldview that is not easily categorized and certainly not controlled. Being Catholic and conservative is not a betrayal of my background; it is an expression of it. It reflects a deeper loyalty to timeless truths, not transient trends. It reflects a commitment to something greater than the political fashions of the moment. I am Congolese. I am Catholic. I am conservative. And I will not apologize for the mind, heart, and soul God has given me.
