I got a lot of questions about that woman, Rachel Dolezal.

Sigh.

I debated whether to post anything about her or not.

Her story irked me. And I’m not sure it should have.

She didn’t admit to passing for black. Instead, she explained that she “identifies as black.”

Identify, pass. Tomato, tow-maw-toe.

She’s passing and bless her heart for thinking anyone believes otherwise.

People passing for a different race, gender or religion is nothing new. I know people who are passing for white. I’m sure I know people who are passing for other reasons that have yet to be disclosed.

But a white woman passing for black caused me to laugh and then it stopped me in my tracks and I got annoyed. Really annoyed.

At once, I was flooded with memories of being chased on the playground by white kids screaming that I was a freak, neighborhood punks calling me a nigger on my street, evil eyes and up-downs from black chicks in college, everything else covered in this blog. All because I’m a white-looking black female.

And yet RD chose to identify/pass for a (white-looking) black female? On purpose?

I didn’t choose to “identify as black.” I was born black. The proof may not be in my face or skin tone. My family tree confirms what’s in my blood. And so does my birth certificate from Los Angeles County.

I’m legitimately black* and I continue to be mistaken and misunderstood. And that’s okay.

No amount of self-tanning products, bronzer, weave, braids, HBCU degrees or NAACP memberships will ever change that fact that RD is legitimately white. I wish she knew that. I wish she knew that a white woman can make an impact and fight for civil rights on the front line. I wish she knew that a white woman can raise black sons to become strong, productive, successful, kind black men. I wish she knew that how she was born into this world, how God made her, is good enough.

*Some people have and will continue to dispute this fact; I don’t care.