HHBMedia | There's no such thing as "transracial", My beef with Rachel Dolezal

2 words. Rachel Dolezal. And I'm not here for any of her shenanigans. Don't know whom I'm referring to? Google her.

I've had enough. I think the whole situation is bizarre. She's clearly obsessed with black American culture, and her obsession could possibly land her in an asylum. That's no shade to anyone dealing with mental illnesses - I think everyone should get the help they need. Rachel Dolezal's case is just extremely disturbing to me.

I, as a black American woman, feel offended. Not only has she sported natural-esque wigs and self tanner to make herself into a pseudo-light skinned black woman, she's told false stories about growing up in an abusive home and overcoming the "black woman's struggle" as if her life was a Tyler Perry flick.

Sure, she's done great things in her community - serving as the president of the Spokane chapter of the NAACP and being a mentor to young black Americans at Eastern Washington University - but her great works are somehow overshadowed by her fraudulent lifestyle. At least for me... It's absolutely crazy.

Were her motives to simply support the movement of fair treatment and equality, or were they to solely uphold a demented agenda to become more "black?”

I get it - being "black" is poppin’ right now. Black culture is hip, cool and dope. While the Iggy's of the world are content with perpetrating and appropriating, Rachel Dolezal wanted more than butt implants and lip injections. She wanted the genetics, she wanted the struggles, and she wanted the accolades.

This can be quite flattering, I mean, I'll definitely agree that being a black woman is pretty sweet. But I'm not cool with Rachel Dolezal's backhanded-homage - a nappy wig and blackface doesn't make you "black.” Just because you feel "soulful" doesn't mean you have a black woman living inside of you (and might I add that I HATE when I hear non-blacks say this. It's extremely offensive).

There's no such thing as "transracial.” You either are, or you are not; and Rachel, my dear, you are NOT.

Admire from afar, but wearing a costume doesn't give you a piece of my struggle. I refuse to share that with you. Be a supporter, but you're not entitled to any of my reparations.


*** This piece was originally published on HHBMedia.com in June 2015