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A black trans woman explains changing gender vs. changing race.

If you can be transgender, is possible to be "transracial"? Artist and vlogger Kat Blaque explains why changing your gender and changing your race just aren't the same thing.

A black trans woman explains changing gender vs. changing race.
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When the story of Rachel Dolezal (the white NAACP chapter president who has been masquerading as a black woman) went viral, the Internet exploded with countless memes and even more think pieces.

But one not-so-funny trend was comparing Rachel's story to transgender reality TV star and former Olympian Caitlyn Jenner's.


The back story: Rachel Dolezal, a white woman, has allegedly spent the past eight years pretending to be black.

The leader of the Spokane, Washington, NAACP chapter entered the spotlight after she allegedly received hateful messages via her organization's P.O. Box. Things got weird when a police investigation revealed that the messages she received had not been processed by the post office. To make things even weirder, this was just one of a string of hate crimes Dolezal had reported in the past, all under mysterious circumstances.

Shortly after news coverage began, Dolezal's parents came forward with the revelation that their Caucasian-born daughter had been presenting herself as black since 2007. After the slew of memes and viral hashtags subsided, the loudest question was: "How is changing your race any different from changing your gender?" More specifically, people questioned the media's critiques of Dolezal, especially after several weeks of praising recently out trans celebrity Caitlyn Jenner.

Before we jump into this race and gender conversation, here are a few definitions:

trans/transgender — "Transgender is a term used to describe people whose gender identity differs from the sex the doctor marked on their birth certificate. Gender identity is a person's internal, personal sense of being a man or a woman (or someone outside of that gender binary). For transgender people, the sex they were assigned at birth and their own internal gender identity do not match." — glaad.org

cis/cisgender — "Term for someone who has a gender identity that aligns with what they were assigned at birth. The term was created for referring to 'non-transgender' people without alienating transgender people. For example, if the doctor announces a baby as being a girl, and she is fine with being a girl, then she is cisgender." — Gender Wiki

transracial — Since Rachel Dolezal's story went viral, "transracial" has been incorrectly used to describe people who identify with a race different from their own. In reality, transracial refers to children who are a different race than their adopted parents.

Ultimately, Rachel Dolezal's story is one of deception. For trans folks, coming out as trans is about truth.

As soon as the Caitlyn and Rachel comparisons began, I reached out to my friend Kat Blaque and begged her to make a video about the situation. Not only is Kat a popular YouTube vlogger, but she's also black, transgender, and a transracial adoptee, giving her a unique perspective that was lacking in the Caitlyn/Rachel conversation.


One major difference here is that trans folks face immense challenges when they come out. Simple tasks like getting identification and even using the restroom can be major obstacles because of a lack of understanding and education, along with a whole heap of bigotry. Transgender folks often face rejection from their friends and family upon coming out, leading to increased rates of suicide and depression within the community. And trans women, especially trans women of color, face greater risks when it comes to being victims of violence. According to GLAAD, in 2011, trans women were victims of 45% of all hate murders.

By comparison, Rachel Dolezal's misrepresentation led to her professional gain. Not only was she appointed the head of her local NAACP, she also taught classes, sold artwork, and was a paid speaker under the guise of being a black woman. She positioned herself as an authority on racism, oppression, and the black experience despite not having lived or experienced it herself. Dolezal's new identity also relied on fake parents, fake children, and, of course, darkening her skin and changing her hair to appear racially ambiguous.

Rachel Dolezal's behavior has not only hurt and confused many, it has put her voice above members of the community she so desperately sought to support. Given all that, it's easy to see why comparing Dolezal's behavior to the trans people who face so much adversity to be who they are isn't just hurtful, it's not even on the same playing field.

When the "Me Too" movement exploded a few years ago, the ubiquitousness of women's sexual harassment and assault experiences became painfully clear. What hasn't always been as clear is role that less overt, more subtle creepiness plays in making women feel uncomfortable or unsafe as they move through the world, often starting from a young age.

Thankfully—and unfortunately—a viral video from a teen TikToker illustrates exactly what that looks like in real-time when a man came and sat down with her while she was doing a live video. He asked if the chair at her table was taken, and she said no, thinking he wanted to take it to another table. Instead, he sat down and started talking to her. You can see in her face and in her responses that she's weirded out, though she's trying not to appear rude or paranoid.

The teen said in a separate TikTok video that the man appeared to be in his 30s. Definitely too old to be pulling up a chair with someone so young who is sitting by herself, and definitely old enough to recognize that she was uncomfortable with the situation.

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Photo by Daniel Schludi on Unsplash
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The global eradication of smallpox in 1980 is one of international public health's greatest successes. But in 1966, seven years after the World Health Organization announced a plan to rid the world of the disease, smallpox was still widespread. The culprits? A lack of funds, personnel and vaccine supply.

Meanwhile, outbreaks across South America, Africa, and Asia continued, as the highly contagious virus continued to kill three out of every 10 people who caught it, while leaving many survivors disfigured. It took a renewed commitment of resources from wealthy nations to fulfill the promise made in 1959.

Forty-one years later, although we face a different virus, the potential for vast destruction is just as great, and the challenges of funding, personnel and supply are still with us, along with last-mile distribution. Today, while 30% of the U.S. population is fully vaccinated, with numbers rising every day, there is an overwhelming gap between wealthy countries and the rest of the world. It's becoming evident that the impact on the countries getting left behind will eventually boomerang back to affect us all.

Photo by ismail mohamed - SoviLe on Unsplash

The international nonprofit CARE recently released a policy paper that lays out the case for U.S. investment in a worldwide vaccination campaign. Founded 75 years ago, CARE works in over 100 countries and reaches more than 90 million people around the world through multiple humanitarian aid programs. Of note is the organization's worldwide reputation for its unshakeable commitment to the dignity of people; they're known for working hand-in-hand with communities and hold themselves to a high standard of accountability.

"As we enter into our second year of living with COVID-19, it has become painfully clear that the safety of any person depends on the global community's ability to protect every person," says Michelle Nunn, CARE USA's president and CEO. "While wealthy nations have begun inoculating their populations, new devastatingly lethal variants of the virus continue to emerge in countries like India, South Africa and Brazil. If vaccinations don't effectively reach lower-income countries now, the long-term impact of COVID-19 will be catastrophic."

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