Two Weeks of Hard Thought

It’s been a hell-of-a two weeks, with huge highs and also some real lows.

First off: –
Ms Dolezal
has certainly put the cat amongst the pigeons.


Whilst Ms Dolezal’s have raised many questions, I have to ask myself unravelling the Dolezal Gordian knot is society ever really going to do this – do they want to do this? Rachel Dolezal interviewed on Today June 16 2015,

Whether what Ms Dolezal
But one thing amongst the maze of emotions, Ms Dolezal is not a person who is TRANSRACIAL. There is no element to Transracialism in Ms Dolezal life – well at least from what I can see based on the information that we all have to hand. But looking at this case, I’m sure there are many more twists, claims and counter claims to be made in the court of public opinion and on social media as well as the regular and more traditional news platforms.

What interests me (and also scares me) is growing evidence that Rachel was raised in a Fundamental Christian home, Her parents devotions to this sect almost cult like, allegedly.
Flashback to Hana Williams and Lydia Schatz, both black adoptees who died at the hands of their evangelical homeschooling parents.

However she wishes to perceive her own self. Dolezal is biologically and genetically Caucasian.  Until we have proof otherwise and Ms Dolezal cares to share the results. She was raised by her biological parents, within the culture and country of her birth. Again until Ms Dolezal proves otherwise.

A transracial child does not have that luxury. A transracial child is repositioned, placed or adopted into a completely alien environment. They grow up in societies and cultures that are different to that of their birth parents. They often lose the ability to communicate in their native language. They loose the all sense of their heritage, their history. Both familial and cultural. They are very often identified as outsiders even within the families into which they have been fostered or adopted. Usually because the child’s ethnicity differs to that of their adoptive parents.
None of which applies to Ms Dolezal. No matter how deeply and sincerely she “identifies as being black.”

150616171602-rachel-dolezal-split-multi-lead-06-16-exlarge-169Wether she chooses to accept the roots she has or her cultural lineage and traceable history. These are all things that a transracially placed or adopted person simply does not have. Most going in to adulthood, have found a way to make peace with the schisms and the loss in their lives, they have founded families and connections all of their own. What was taken from us, what we lose is something that we will never quite be able to fill, replace or heal.

Many transracially adopted children, in spite of being raised within white privileged families and communities, are disadvantaged further. By being raised in and with the very expectations of said privilege, which we are unable to reap any of the advantages. Because no matter how strongly we might (or might not) identify with the white culture in which we have grown up in; we are not white and never will be.
The belief that we may have had (however briefly) that we too, like our Caucasian counter-parts, would be entitled to the same social, cultural, political and economic opportunities, this belief is very often cruelly trampled upon once we children reach our teenage and young adulthood years.
Ms Dolezal is now questioning the circumstances of her paternity and has herself  raised the idea that she may in fact be adopted. The world at large only has Ms Dolezal’s inferences and allegations that this is true. Forgive me Ms Dolezal – I know this might be unfair, but given your recent track record with statement and delivery of actuality and facts; I will need to see substantive and corroborative truth on that allegation.
There has also been a flirtation with the idea, that since she was raised in a very restrict and repressive environment one could make a case that she was possibly born into the wrong-body, into the wrong ethnicity prompting speculation that what Dolezal is experiencing is similar to that of a transgender person. Does Dolezal share some of the same struggles as being trapped in the wrong gender? Is it a similar condition?
My first question would be, if this is indeed the case, why is Ms Dolezal the only person whom I have ever heard of, who has done and claimed this?
I have no idea.  The mind as we know is an incredible piece of biological tech, that we know very little about.
Or could it be more along the lines of Racial Munchausen by proxy syndrome?
Whatever is going on inside Ms Dolezal’s head, I am sure we have not heard the last of “it” and her.

For the record stop assigning words that already have a very specific meaning and refer to recognised states of being based on facts, research and actuality. We cannot always know the where’s and why-for’s of people’s behaviour and sometimes we just have accept that people do the most unfathomable things for reasons that we might never understand.

Closer to home now that the fear, thrill, excitement and adrenalin of seeing my short play

Live Lunch Hidden Invitation v3 1795326_10155691089530313_6593753793557690166_o 1501560_10155676222700693_533480755468398422_o (1)


Restrain your grief and adapt to the mishap on stage at The Royal Court Theatre – it’s back down to earth, with a thud. Will this amazing opportunity that four British East Asians had move us on as writers and performer? Will we be able climb up the ladder and further away from the constrictions and restrictions of being a “hidden” minority in Britain?


Monday 29th June 2015,  was the memorial for Junix Inocian, a much-loved, extremely talented actor, who was to have been part of the company for Hidden. He died quite unexpectedly the Saturday before rehearsals were scheduled to begin and we dedicated the performances to his memory. Death comes to us all. It is an inevitable part of the human condition. Yet it hits home harshly when it is someone you personally know and have had a connection to. As you get older, then death becomes increasingly intertwined with your everyday existence and friends, work colleagues and acquaintances take leave for the last time. Like the title of my short play I have to find ways of restraining my own grief and moving on, as I am sure Junix would want us all to do.

Junix and me in the green room at The Sheffield Crucible in 2011 part of the David Hare retrospective season (Plenty)