The One Thing That Burns Me Most About #RachelDolezal

Rachel Dolezal recently and a growing up

There are so many themes and story lines that have passed through my mind since the Rachel Dolezal controversy broke last week.

Lying.

Deception by omission.

Appropriation.

Mental illness.

Confusion.

Hurt.

Anger.

But the one that scorches me the most is the fact that Ms. Dolezal's charade erases me.

Yes, the fact that Rachel Dolezal assumed the "life" of a Black American woman and "profited" from opportunities to use a platform to tell the her "story" erases mine - the actual Black American woman.

This is particularly hard for me to process as I have really been intentional the last year or so to bust the popular and accepted American narrative of the Black Women in America. You may or may not recall that I have been honored by two different Chicago suburban media companies in the last year for my contributions to business and my community. At both award ceremonies, I specifically spoke about the honor to be recognized with other talented women and how excited I was to get the chance to share my story as I did not see many stories like mine told growing up or into my early career life. I also challenged both homogenous audiences to lift up stories that were different than their own. I asked them to reflect on ways to make sure all American stories get told. In both cases, I touched a nerve and incited less than positive responses from people in the audience who could not resist the chance to challenge my point of view.

At the event last November, one woman, a fellow entrepreneur no less, took the liberty to point out to me that the lack of storytelling affected "all women." When I asserted that I understood that but that that America is particularly egregious in not telling the stories of women of color, she bristled and again, tried to correct me, in front of my child. Really? I stood firm in my position and politely brushed her off to speak to a true well wisher.

In May, a well suited man from my county asked me after my speech to give him - in 25 words or less an "example" of what I meant by it "being difficult to be different in McHenry County." When I did in less than 10 words, he challenged me with, "well that has not been my experience," to which I replied - "they were asking me about mine, sorry you can't see your story in my story, sir." He forced a smile and congratulated me on the award "anyhow." He literally said that.

Erasure is something Black American women face daily. We must battle just to exist because our very existence is unwelcome to many. Further, when we have the chance to get recognized for something and even more courage to tell our communities how we really feel, it is overwhelmingly well received because it is new and fresh story. For both those people who tried to erase me at the very ceremony created to honor me, there were dozens of people who applauded my bold declaration. Private messages and a line of people at both events thanked me again and again for telling my story but also thanked me for the reminder to them to make space for different stories in the Great American Narrative.

I don't begrudge Ms. Dolezal's positions or activism. It is welcome. But we need White women allies in the arena with us - not replacing us. We need the Rachel Dolezal's of the America to be fully who they are lifting our true stories to the forefront and not tainting them with fabrications. I applaud her trying to change the narrative for Black women in America but I rebuke her method of doing so.

Living Proof The Myth of Mixing Can Be Real

black white faces credit Alexander Khokhlov 2013

It's been a very interesting time in American History over the last few weeks. The hurt, pain and  tensions have finally spilled from the hearts and minds of Black people into the daily consciousness of the rest of the country.  It's about time we have a frank discussion about America's ugly relationship with race.

This is particularly hard for me since I'm one of the "those" people. You know the ones, the ones who dared to dream and build a life based on what we all preach - the myth. The Black myth told in both Black families and across White America every day.

"If you get an education..."

"If you get married and have your kids with a husband..."

"If you are good at what you do..."

"If you stay out of trouble..."

Those are the ones we hear most often in our homes and it's not wonder. That's what white people told us after 300 years of legalized terror on blacks 50 years ago. We continue to say that today. Tune in to any news station and I did for the sake of this post for the first time in months. I heard no less than 10 commentators (in all hues mind you) on 6 channels in a three hour period speak to all the things Black people can "do" to make their lives better in America. I'd even trump you one to add to the Black myth - the myth of mixing. You know, branching out beyond what you know and extending yourself to learn about, live and build life with people different than you. We learn early to stick with what we know and those of us who branch out are often "rewarded" with slightly different experiences than the rest.  Learning to push through being the "only" certainly has it benefits but you have to know full story before you go spurting soundbites and solutions to our very real racial issues here in the US.

And while I would not change ANYTHING I've done over the last 29 years (high school and beyond), I would like to point out the three things no one warns you about the myth of mixing.

Blacklash

This is the very pointed and consistent criticism you receive from Black people in your life for living life fully with people from other groups. It comes in the form of "revoking your Black card" for minor offenses that an unknown entity enforcing "blackness" deems not "Black enough". You also see it  family (or other black friends) excuses for not visiting you in your suburban community because there are "not any Black people there," which is odd since I'm inviting you to my house, and I'm Black. It's also the unsolicited advice from the only other Black woman at the business conference you attend who offers to help you find someone to "do your hair" as she looks at your afro. Blacklash is swift and cutting and a constant reminder that your choice to mix is not really appreciated. You learn to maneuver around Blacklash but often times just ignore it for the sake of the relationship or it can destroy the relationship all together.

Whitesplaining

Whitesplaining is a fascinating phenomenon that comes in two flavors - whitesplaining Black folks to your White friends and whitesplaining your White friends to Black people in your world.  With very few exceptions, you are Black America to your White friends. They have not bothered to get to know or keep up with many of the Black people who have come through their lives so you, by proximity have become their official spokesperson. If there is a decent mutual relationship there, they will be somewhat sensitive to the position they put you in constantly when things happen in pop culture or the news by starting their inquiry with, "I know you don't know all Black people but..." The other form of whitesplaining to your Black friends and family can be just as awkward. This form most often appears in the backhanded slight of "I'm sure you don't remember anymore but this is how we..." assuming because you live in a mixed environment you have no concept whatever they are about to say. It also flares up after events where you have had the audacity to co-mingle your life in the form of questions about every thing your White friend said or did at the event, most of which you don't remember or even noticed. Although it's exhausting, whitesplaining is par for the course for folks who intentionally cultivate a multicultural life.

Loneliness

When tension flare in the country as they periodically do (think Rodney King, OJ Trial, Tawana Brawley and the recent rash of deaths of unarmed Black and brown people at the hands of police), you find yourself alone in your thoughts. Now, let's be clear - I have an amazing group of people around me - Black, White, young, old, Christian, Jewish, Mexican, I think you get it - supporting me and walking me through this very difficult season. I have no issue reaching out and inviting my crew to talk, cry, reflect and debate what's going on because I know that any one of the people I'm referring to would do anything for me or my family. They have not remained silent as the country has erupted in this very painful discussion.  But my crew is literally all across the United States and all over the world on different time zones so there are many times that I am alone. I don't have nearly as much time as I need to digest and dissect all that is happening and what my feelings are about it with someone I love and trust.  And nearby, I have very few resources in the flesh to do this. Fortunately, this is not as big or consistent as the aforementioned issues but when it occurs, it can wipe away all joy and creativity under its weight.

Even with Blacklash, Whitesplaining and the occasional overwhelming loneliness of mixing, I would not change my life one bit. That one decision I made in 8th grade when I transferred from a predominantly Black junior high in Harvey, IL to a very mixed - Black, White (mostly Italian) and mostly Mexican (with a few sprinkles of Puerto Ricans) - junior high in Chicago Heights has paid off in dividends. The decision to walk into the unknown and befriend and build relationship with people who did not look like me. To resist the pressure to conform to any one narrative and go on to do so many great and courageous things from high school all the way to being the first Black person elected to a small village board in McHenry County in 2009. We all need to mix and extend ourselves beyond what is comfortable.

It's worth it.

All the aggravation, frustration and education of people on all sides (yeah - when you mix, it is not just Black and White - don't get me started on Mexicans, Indians and all other races and ethnicities  who also come to "mixers" like me for perspective) is worth it.  Every moment is worth it and it is truly the only way that races in America will be reconciled to each other. There is no legislation that will fix what has happened over the last 350 years. Can we do better? You bet and if you know me, you know I'm already working on it. But the way we change hearts and minds in this country will not happen in a statehouse - it happens in each of our homes.

One relationship at a time. I've been doing my part for 29 years.

Where are you?

A Film, A Desert and America's Poor Relationship With Race

I had the pleasure of seeing the new Jackie Robinson biopic "42" over this past weekend with my family. It was a great depiction of the rookie season of baseball great Jackie Robinson with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. It was the first time in a long time that I heard other folks in the theater react and verbally respond to characters in a movie. It was also the first time I'd ever experienced people clapping at the conclusion of a film.

Well done, Warner Bros.

I also applaud Warner Bros and this film for helping me as I have recently come through what I'm calling a "desert" experience personally. My "desert" from the end of February until the end of March was an intensive time of introspection for me as I was challenged to my core - almost daily -  on every thought, action and belief I have related to race, gender, poverty and struggle. The external events that came in rapid fire seemed almost unreal as it was playing out. There were a few days when I literally cried out to God for respite... rest.

But alas that respite did not come. It was clear to me 1/2 way through the 30 days that this "season" I was experiencing had a purpose. It was amply clear that I needed to re-evaluate my response, my reaction to everyday conversations, quips and thoughts related to race. No longer could I ignore this or downplay it. I was literally being faced with extreme racially charged situations regularly to refine my thoughts and my heart about race.

It was rich and seeing "42" this weekend sealed for me what one of my conclusions had revealed late last month.

We have come very far with race relations in the United States but we have painfully far to go. 

Nothing made that more evident than watching this film set in 1947. Dare I say, it was simpler then. Dare I say, at least you KNEW what you were facing in the way of biases, discrimination and outright refusal to extend equality. Today is it much more subtle. Much more covert. And worst, it is vehemently denied now.

People go out of their way to say how unbiased they are all while their daily actions and interactions reinforce just how deeply biased they are in reality. People argue tooth and nail how much "better" it is today for black Americans in the United States. And it is.

But it is still not where it should be.

And it's up to all of us to to make it better. My "desert" experience showed me where I have areas of opportunity to help. I am grateful I was open to learning. Grateful to see 42 with my family to continue the discussion started in our household before.

What will you do?

Are you willing to have open honest conversations about race with others?

Can we take a step toward true reconciliation in our country without those conversations?