{"id":12900,"date":"2018-04-29T00:02:43","date_gmt":"2018-04-29T07:02:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/godammit.com\/?p=12900"},"modified":"2018-04-29T00:02:43","modified_gmt":"2018-04-29T07:02:43","slug":"rachel-dolezal-not-just-crazy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/godammit.com\/rachel-dolezal-not-just-crazy\/","title":{"rendered":"Rachel Dolezal: Not Just Crazy"},"content":{"rendered":"

I watched the new documentary<\/a> about Rachel Dolezal<\/strong> with a mounting sense of disbelief that turned to anger, pity, sadness and revulsion, cycling through all these emotions several times. What a piece of work is Rachel Dolezal. And yet in no way deserving of the seething hatred still aimed at her.<\/p>\n

The film may be just a Rorschach test that divides people along color lines. I’m not black, so I can’t access the outrage she evinces in that community. I will be shocked if any black viewers decide to cut her any slack. As a white woman, I feel compassion. Because above all else, she is fucking nuts.<\/p>\n

The film details her childhood: Evangelical white parents who adopt a bunch of black kids only to beat them like animals. It’s not hard to see why the blonde, dowdy, emotionally abused Rachel would side with the black children. They are literal innocents, and she strives to save them.<\/p>\n

Somewhere along the line, she imagines that she’s one of them. That part is the thing that can’t be explained, or, apparently, forgiven. She continues to insist on her blackness to this day, at the same time acknowledging that she was born white. She views her racial “identity” as similar to gender identity – something one can decide, and expect others to respect, or at least accept.<\/p>\n

Part of me wants to think, Well, yeah, if I can tell you I’m really a man inside my female body, why can’t I also tell you that I’m black? If it’s simply a case of I am what I feel I am, why is gender okay but not ethnicity? What is so sacred about ethnicity?<\/p>\n

How you answer that question makes all the difference.<\/p>\n

Putting that aside, there are Rachel’s children, who are clearly suffering from her notoriety. Your heart breaks for them, especially the sensitive 13 year old, whose father is a black man we never meet. Why doesn’t she put her children first and do what’s best for them? Maybe she’s convinced that she is<\/em> doing what’s best, by standing her ground and not giving in to societal pressure. Or maybe she’s incapable of putting anyone’s needs before her raging exhibitionism and deep psychological wounds.<\/p>\n

Then there’s her fucking hair. Oh my god, the hair. In the course of the film, she changes her hair a million times. The knee-length braided extensions underscore her not-Beyonce-ness. But she doesn’t give a fuck. Her hair is like a whole extra character.<\/p>\n

When she brings a new baby into the drama swirling around her, it’s hard not to question her motives. And sanity. It seems like the last things she needs, but then we see how much the older kids adore the baby…whose father, naturally, is black.<\/p>\n

The most disturbing aspect of this brutal character study is Rachel’s seeming gluttony for abuse and punishment. She continues to court a high social media profile, despite the barrage of hateful comments that attend her every Facebook post and public appearance. Writing a book about herself only stokes the hatred. But she seems baffled by it and stubbornly refuses to back down or apologize.<\/p>\n

What’s wrong with Rachel Dolezal? Never underestimate the consequences of sustained child abuse<\/a>, but this is more.<\/p>\n

In her deludedness, she is more heartbreaking than infuriating. And in the end, to me, she is almost worthy of admiration in her strength of purpose. She will not crack. She will not give in, no matter what.<\/p>\n

The very last scene is a spoiler that will blow your mind. Once you’ve seen “The Rachel Divide,<\/a>” a fascinating but draining experience, get back to me and tell me what you think.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"