The Fallacy of RACE

WHAT “RACE” IS THIS MAN? The story of a man raised as black. a proud man who refused to accept he was no longer black after DNA test results showed he had no African ancestry


“I’ve been called a n—-r before by white kids,” Joseph said. “I’ve experienced being rousted by the police, with some friends. I’ve had the so-called — if there are typical, you know — black experiences. I’ve had those.”

What is race?  Why does our census form look like the product of the Third Reich’s genetics laws?
African or African Americans carry around a sign that says “BLACK MAN.” Unlike people of other ethnic descents, black people are labelled in a way that is as derogatory as the Jewish star my people had to wear in Hitler’s Germany.  I have choice, my black friends do not have.  We even use the word denigrate to disparage, belittle, deprecate, decry, or attack others for being poor, stupid or just plain unworthy.
Now, in the era of great pride in black heritage,  Seattle’s ohso liberal The Stranger attacks Rachel Dolezal , genetically European woman, for her identification as Black. Ms. Dolezal lived as Black for many years. Why isn’t she black? Who decides?  Is “Black” about ancestry?  about  culture?  In an era where liberal canon insists that gender identity is not determined by genetics, than why is “race” determined by some trace of an African heritage?
There is an even more dramatic story about Wayne Joseph.  Mr. Joseph was the principal of a big suburban high school in southern California, had an unequivocal sense of his black heritage, having written extensively about race in America.

Proud of his heritage, Mr. Joseph sent away for a kit from DNA Print Genomics. “I sent away for their kit and received the kit, happened to swab both sides of my cheek and sent the swabs in,”

DNA testing tells the lie to the race myth,


A few weeks later, the results arrived.  “I just glanced at it, just a cursory glance initially — didn’t really notice it much.” “Then, I went back to it, because all of a sudden it hit me exactly what I had read. And it read, 57 percent Indo-European, 39 percent Native American, 4 percent East Asian and 0 percent African.”

“I kiddingly say, if I was 21 instead of 50, I’d be in therapy, because when you define yourself one way and then at 50, there are results that say you’re something else, it does rock your whole world.”

Joseph’s birth certificate says he was born in New Orleans, and lists his race and color as “Negro.” And his life has been that of a black American — including his hair style as a college kid, which was about as close as he could get to an Afro.

Joseph asked his mother, Betty, if he was adopted.

“He is not adopted,” she said. “Mother doesn’t forget when she has a baby. And I had three babies. And he was one of them.”

As it turns out Mr.  Joseph’s  family is of Creole stock; in the segregated parishes of Louisiana they’d always defined themselves as black, or “colored”.

Mr. Josephs’s mother, Betty Joseph at age 76, said that DNA results will not alter the way she’s identified herself all her life. She is a black woman. “It’s hard to break old habits at my age.”

Wayne Joseph’s response is to focus on one of the old South’s most enduring legacies. The so-called “one drop” rule, “says that anyone who has one black ancestor or any black blood at all is considered black in this country. The interesting thing about it is the one-drop rule is a rule that was imposed by slave owners who did not want the white purity in some way blemished by black blood,” Joseph added. “And we still, black people and white people in this country, still hold to that rule.”

Wayne’s wife Marcia, has a German and Hispanic descent,  The children were  raised their children to be proud of their black heritage.  Grand daughter Kenya says “We were taught growing up to embrace our black heritage,and really be proud of what that means, and the struggles that black people went through.”

One of Mr. Joseph’s circle of friends noted that the only difference they ever recognized is that Joseph doesn’t put mustard on his hot dogs and he won’t eat the icing on his cake. Is that racial? “We should have known right then there was something wrong with him,” a friend joked.


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