I remain astonished that a great many people still defend "Sis with the box braids and the fake Black daddy" contriving a fake racial history for personal gain.
I attribute much of this to cynical contrarianism—the belief that unfavorable opinions are synonymous with intelligent opinions.
This is not so.
We are begged, by many of this ilk, to acknowledge race as a "social construct" and, then, to allot Sis free passage into Blackness and the alleged nebulousness of it all. I offer, though, that—sure—race doesn't exist scientifically, but since its construction, the boundaries policing it have been calcified; they have disallowed the sort of free rein we're being implored to grant Sis. That, in itself, is an exertion of white privilege.
Further, the word "construct" betrays the fact that something has been built, and it's disingenuous to suggest we've not been forced to respect its constraints. Race is not a porous and permeable creation—it is deeply exclusionary and rigid for those seeking to escape from beneath its terror. That a woman awoke one morning, presumably listened to Al Jarreau, and suddenly developed an infatuation with Black culture doesn’t make her Black, it makes her a fan.
That she assumed the mantle of leadership within a local NAACP chapter, too, does not dismiss her egregious appropriation—it places her directly within the NAACP's lineage. The national NAACP chapter did not elect its first Black president until 1975. You read that correctly: The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People didn’t have a “colored” president until Monty Python and the Holy Grail debuted. So participation in—and guidance of—Black organizations doesn’t denote allegiance, it simply signifies power.
But go’on and stan for whoever, bruh. I'm off [of] it.