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I’m Not Mad At Rachel Dolezal
Dear Rachel Dolezal,
I’m not mad at you but boy did you stir up some shit this week.
When I first heard of your “story” I was intrigued to say the least. As you are well aware, Black people come in all shades. There was even a time, in the not so distant past, that lighter toned black people who could pass for white did in order to secure jobs.
I’m sure most of those people weren’t proud about it, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do to feed your family, right? But in all of my 40 years on this planet, I have never heard of a Caucasian woman try to pass for Black! Do you know what’s harder than being a Black woman? Nothing! So why do it when you don’t have to?
Listen, I’m not writing to lambast your intentions, social media has taken care of that. One of the many ironies in this whole situation is that you’ve managed to polarize Black people’s opinion of you, essentially dividing them into two groups of either supporters of your journey and seers of the bigger picture of your work, or nay-sayers who aren’t willing to see past your web of lies and calling you the biggest manipulator of “White Privilege” that ever existed.
At first I fell into the former group. In the wake of the Bruce/Caitlyn Jenner story, I empathized with your plight. A Black woman trapped inside a White body. On the surface, the stories of a person struggling with their identity were similar to me. I looked at your body of work and was impressed by your resume and accomplishments. President of the NAACP Spokane Chapter, Howard Graduate, Adjunct Professor of African American Studies at Eastern Washington University Licensed Diversity Trainer and Chairwoman of the Office of Police Ombudsman Commission just to name a few. You grew up with African-American siblings and even married an African-American man. But as more of your story is exposed, I’m beginning to see the many points of the latter.
See, one of the biggest problems is that you claim to be Black but at any point that you want to, or is convenient for you, YOU can STOP being “Black.” It’s not a luxury that “real” Black people have and why so many of them are mad at you.
Well, that and the deception of who your father is… and calling your adopted brother your son… and using a scholarship that you probably didn’t need as much as someone else to obtain your degree, and essentially holding down the same people you would later try to help… and speaking as an authority on African-American issues while teaching classes at EWU like “The Black Woman’s Struggle,” something you clearly have limited knowledge about… and, well I’ll just stop there. It doesn’t look like this rabbit hole has a bottom.
I honestly believed that you were trying to do a good thing. I mean you have a hell of an impressive resume. Unfortunately, all of that is marred by lies and deception. The funny thing is, all that you were doing could have been done as a white person. My theory is that you do, in fact, care about the issues of the African-American community but felt you had to portray yourself as something else in order to be credible to the community that you were trying to help. It is my opinion that the Black community doesn’t need more Black people preaching to the choir about the injustices being done to the Black community. It needs people of ALL races to see these injustices and speak out against them.
Listen, you can identify with being Black all you want to Rachel. If nothing else, you’ve brought to the table a very serious topic on identity that needs to be discussed. I only wish that you had been honest from the beginning about who you were and who you would like to be. Instead of applauding all of the positive work that you’ve done to make this world a better place, your only legacy now will be that you lied.
Your own mother said it best “It’s very sad that Rachel has not been herself. Her effectiveness in the causes of the African-American community would have been so much more viable and she would have been more effective is she had just been honest with everybody.”
Keep It Real,
D.Sean Airy
Almost every year for the past 6 years and on the same day, I’ve posted the same pic of me in the hospital during my temporary and untimely demise in 2015. A few weeks after I was back to “normal”, I asked Eric “Why’d you take the pics?” And he said, “I knew you would want to write about it if you lived.” Eric was right. Eric was often right and Eric always had my best interest at heart. I am going to miss my friend.
You ever meet someone and become friends immediately?! Well this was not the case with Eric. Before he was my manager at Morgan Stanley, I would often see this 6’4″, giant white guy walk up to the only black woman at work, say something then walk away without any hint of human emotion. Naturally I thought he was a jerk until I asked her “Yo, is that dude bothering you?” She laughed and proceeded to tell me he was a great person, which I ultimately got to experience first hand. Little did I know this Italian from Staten Island was more Brooklyn than most Brooklynites.
Eric was not with the shits!! If there were ever someone who lived their life in direct, honest and no uncertain terms, that would be Eric. He would ask me questions at work like “Why are the other consultants making more money than you?” I knew the answer to that question and so did he. Eric then proceeded to increase my salary by 15K. After arguing with all our managers that “You need to hire Alfred!”, they eventually did 1 year prior to the 2015 incident. In the hospital, one of my friends asked me, “What if you didn’t have health insurance when this happened?” I would be in debt for the rest of my life is the obvious answer. I still am in debt for the rest of my life but at least, it is to those who made sure I had a more enjoyable life and for that, I will gladly repay.
My mom loved to tell me the story of how she met Eric. After they told her I was going to be in the ICU for some time, she told the doctor “Well I’m not going anywhere.” She then hears a voice from that back of the room that says “Well I’m not going anywhere either!” That was Eric and in true form, he was at that hospital every single day until I was discharged.
Eric passed away in December 2021 of stage 4 cancer. After feeling faint on his way to my bbq, he went to get checked out and was diagnosed. During the past 5 years, Eric lost his mom, twin brother and dad. I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have felt like but I’m glad that pain he was feeling is no more.
From being my manager to my business partner, writer, book editor, artistic director, and most importantly, my friend, I am going to miss you MC Krispy E a.k.a “Enrique Pollazo!” And although you told me Enrique means Henry in Spanish and not Eric, it was too late!
Sidebar. The day I was discharged, while everyone was deciding what was best for me, no one had remembered that I would need clothes in order to leave the hospital. Eric shows up (unasked) with all the clothes I had on the day I coded, laundered and ready to go. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve friends like this but i need to keep doing it! Sidebar complete.
Rest in Peace Eric. “Be Good.”
I had the distinct pleasure of participating in a panel discussion on writing your first book, presented by the Harlem chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Inc. Alongside Jim St. Germain, Author – A Stone of Hope: A Memoir and Dr. Keneshia Nicole Grant, Author – The Great Migration and the Democratic Party: Black Voters and the Realignment of American Politics in the 20th Century. We opined on pain points, benefits and strategies regarding our inaugural voyages into authorship. Feel free to watch for your self and I hope this provides some insight to all those looking to make the same voyage. Enjoy!
