Feeling Black

In 2015, Rachel Dolezal, the then head of the Spokane, Washington chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), was outed as a white woman who had passed as black and worked with the black community for many years. Dolezal was fired from her position as well as the professorship she held at a local college.

A new Netflix documentary, The Rachel Divide, tracks Dolezal’s life in the aftermath of the incident, how she has coped with the public humiliation, and how her relationship with the local black community has altered since. (She is generally acknowledged as having done exemplary work during her stint at NAACP.) It’s a serious, no-holds-barred look at one of the most enigmatic lives of our times.

At the time of her outing, Dolezal claimed that while she was born to white parents, she identified as black. She had been married to a black man, made up her hair like black women do, and taught African studies at a local college. She also, it is believed, applied make-up to appear darker than she was.

2015 was also the year when Caitlyn Jenner (formerly Bruce) came out as transgender, and her story was quickly conflated with Dolezal’s. Was Dolezal transracial, some people wondered. She herself seemed to agree with the idea. The more important question was if it is possible to be transracial in the same way some people are transgender.

The Rachel Divide tackles these weighty topics through the personal story of Dolezal. The film showcases the frosty relationship between her and the NAACP’s Spokane chapter, some of whose members speak openly of their sense of betrayal. “She could have stayed true to who she was,” says one, “and helped the community rather than hide her truth. She has done so much damage to the cause.”

Appearing at a college talk on her case, Dolezal fields question from black students. The gist of their argument is this: Dolezal could pass as black with skin tone make-up but what about a black person who “feels” white? Do they have the same option? Besides, what would she have done if she was confronted with discrimination like countless black people?

Dolezal, who maintains a stoic stance when confronted, remains resolute in identifying as black. The film probes the psychology that might lead a person to “give up” on their race. (Dolezal, who calls race “a social construct”, does not think of it as a big deal.) She was raised in an allegedly abusive environment — her parents were extremely strict with her and their adopted black children while they, she claims, showered all their affections on their eldest, a boy.

Growing up in such an environment, the documentary posits, forced Dolezal to disassociate from her roots and identify more and more with her adoptive black siblings. The rupture caused by this disassociation was so deep that at some point, Dolezal started seeing herself as black. (Later, she also took custody of one of her adoptive siblings, and legally supported another who claimed she had been abused by the eldest, biological son.)

The Rachel Divide thus juxtaposes the personal with the political to raise important questions about self-perception and the persona we adopt for the outside world. On the one hand, transgenderism is increasingly believed to have a biological basis. The transgender feel that they are born in the wrong body, a condition called body dysphoria. This would not apply to someone like Dolezal since, she herself agrees, there is no biological basis to her identifying as black.

On the other hand, can we deny someone how they identify even if the basis of such identification is not biological? Transracial may be a fraught term because of the oppression blacks have historically faced but will this term be more acceptable in another setting? What if an Indian-origin person were to identify as Caucasian, or vice-versa?

Dolezal’s situation is also tied up in the politically charged debate between reality and feelings, a line that splits liberal from conservative opinion on a whole host of issues. Many anti-trans advocates have claimed that “feeling wrong” in the body one is born into does not change the reality of one’s biology, and therefore, transgenderism is either not real or, at the very least, should not be encouraged.

It can similarly be argued that merely “feeling” black is not enough qualification to be called black. In Dolezal’s case, her desire to be black has roots both in childhood trauma and her identification with black culture. In that respect, Dolezal seems to be arguing, blackness is less about skin colour than about a certain sociocultural milieu that one is either born to or co-opts at will. Where she falters is in convincingly articulating how —or rather, if — one can adopt blackness without also adopting its historical baggage.

Dolezal has struggled to support herself and her two sons since the 2015 controversy. The media glare on her has overwhelmed her boys, an exasperation that The Rachel Divide captures. We don’t know if she is a pioneer or, as some say, a scam artist, but Dolezal’s case raises deeply pertinent questions about identity, an issue that is at the forefront of global politics today.

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