Unfortunately, America is a place with weak protections for the average worker. Because of this reality, I’ve been forced to spend the last two days reading Rachel Dolezal’s new autobiography, In Full Color, out March 28. You probably remember Dolezal as the former white female NAACP chapter president who identifies as black. Well, she’s back and boy, does she have some things to say.
Such an arduous task of reading horrendous garbage like In Full Color is likely illegal in most enlightened European countries. After finishing Dolezal’s 280-page “journey to self-identification,” I’ve decided to become a Marxist revolutionary so I can help spare any future generations from such unjust working conditions.
Since I remain a man of the people, I’ve provided you with some of the best sections and tidbits of the Dolezal origin story:
- The second chapter, “Escaping to Africa (in My Head)” (yes, really), describes Dolezal’s frustration at growing up in rural Montana. She “didn’t even know Good Times, Sanford and Son, or The Jeffersons existed until” she went to college. Most of the book sounds this way, as in a midwestern white person desperately trying to sound like she grew up in West Philadelphia.
- When she was a young child, Dolezal inexplicably felt an affinity to “blackness” despite growing up in a town with no black people. Dolezal recounts pretending “to be a dark-skinned princess in the Sahara Desert or one of the Bantu women living in the Congo.” In one of her fantasies, Africa was “home” where she “possessed the ability to control the weather.”
- In the chapter “Hustling to Make a Dollar,” Dolezal equates her childhood chores with “the institution of chattel slavery in America.” Her living conditions made her develop a “similar resourcefulness” as black slaves. She repeats this claim on page 73, saying “it wouldn’t have been too much of a stretch to call me an indentured servant.” It should be noted that most of what Dolezal describes as a strict, Christian upbringing is not unlike what many children endured in 20th Century America. According to my calculations, Dolezal is the only member of this generation who identifies as a different race because of these conditions.
- Dolezal describes “reading library books about Black history” as “unconsciously feeding my soul.” A common theme throughout the book is Dolzeal’s conflating white-American poverty with the “black experience.” Like many unmindful liberals, Dolezal believes white America is defined solely by middle-class consumerism and values whereas black America is defined entirely by racial and economic struggle.
- In college, Dolezal fully realizes her new black identity: “Finally able to embrace my true self, I allowed the little girl I’d colored with a brown crayon so long ago to emerge.”
- Her first marriage ended in divorce because she “was a little too Black” for her black husband’s “tastes.” In this marriage, Dolezal learned a painful lesson, “that a Black man could be, culturally and philosophically, as white as any white man.” In other words, Dolezal feels blacker than actual black people.
“Living as a Black woman made my life infinitely better. It also made it infinitely harder, thanks to other people’s racist perceptions of me. The Blacker I became—not just in the clothes I wrote or the books I read but in terms of how I was being seen and treated—the more distant and isolated I felt from white people…[I stopped] feeling obligated to check WHITE on medical forms, and once I started claiming my identity and checking BLACK, any whiteness I possessed became invisible…”
- “The list of racist comments and behavior” Dolezal experienced “could fill its own book,” despite the fact that her past allegations of hate crimes were deemed hoaxes.
- After she began bronzing her skin, “the final piece of the puzzle surrounding her identity” was solved and she “now felt completely free and secure in who I was.” A similar theme throughout the book is how Dolezal’s insane racial “self-identification” is always about her “freedom” and her feelings—biology and sensitivity to the actual black experienced be damned.
I’ll end our suffering there. I could go on and reference her countless claims about why her above “poverty income” somehow made her “not unlike many other Black women,” which, while factually true, discounts the fact that white children make up the largest share of America’s poor. I could also mention the hypocritical claim that she didn’t identify as black to “advance her career,” despite authoring an entire book about her ludicrous journey or how nearly every job she took revolved around her contrived racial identity.
The sheer offensiveness of comparing her so-called “blackness” to the struggle of homosexuals was an excessive gut punch, and just another farcical line like her chastisement of “liberal white folks” who don’t sympathize with her con. Dolezal even had the nerve to attack black Americans for “invalidating [her] Blackness,” which would be comical if it wasn’t one of the nerviest pronouncements I ever read.
In Full Color ends with an epilogue describing how Dolezal still walks around faking it as a black woman. Her goal “is to provide comfort to those who are not struggling with their identities and assure them that they’re not alone, that they’re not freaks, and that they don’t deserve to be ridiculed or shunned by their friends, families, and communities.” On the contrary, Dolezal stretches the definition of identity beyond absurdity and merely serves as a distraction from real issues facing the black community. The theme of her book is clearly validation, but the only thing she really needs is professional help.