A woman of colour on the Internet

TW: racist expletives, online harassment and threats... just a day in the life of a woman of colour on the Internet.

I did not expect my last post to garner as much attention as it did. This newsletter is my personal space; one year ago, I launched it because I wanted to write and keep myself accountable by publishing a piece monthly. Topics vary and I have never followed a strict editorial regimen - I write about anything that tickles my fancy, sparks my curiosity, or, most of the time, that irks the living daylight out of me. My last post falls under the latter category - I wrote it up in under two hours, hit the publish button, and went on with my day. I just needed to get it off my chest.

The initial reactions were humbling. Many people reached out, both privately and publicly, to share their stories of racism and colourism in their own communities and families in Mauritius. However, things quickly went south and I began to receive several hateful comments on this space. Racist expletives, like the N-word, were used profusely, as well as sexist ones, mostly meant to remind me that as a woman of colour I was unfuckable, unwanted, and a sorry excuse for a human being. I am being mild because I want to spare you the content of those messages; on a more selfish level, I do not want to give a platform to their hate on this page. However, I might decide to publish the screenshots on other platforms if I feel up to it.

I reached out to Substack to inquire about their moderation techniques for comments that use aliases that contain the names of genocidal dictators, and that contain horrendous expletives such as the N-word. Their support team answered swiftly, admitting that they did not currently have a foolproof way of filtering hate comments, but that they were working on it. I will be added to a beta tester group of a moderation platform they are currently developing to counter such use cases.

To be honest, I never thought I’d be on the receiving end of such bone-chilling comments. It is common knowledge that high-profile feminists like Rokhaya Diallo, Kelechi Okafor, and Ash Sarkar constantly receive a barrage of hate comments on all social media platforms for their political views and stances. I sort of assumed, wrongly, that I would be “safe” from the trolls because my audience is so small.

The Internet, much like the real world, is not a safe space for women of colour (particularly Black women) and underrepresented groups. It has also been built with strong biases against people like us.

I wanted to write a more researched piece on what it means to be a woman on the Internet today, but to be honest I am tired. I don’t want to prove or convince anybody that we are silenced, or harassed into silence every single day on most apps. Instagram regularly shadowbans feminist and anti-racist collectives - No White Saviours, a nearly 1 million strong community on Instagram, often talks about how Instagram decreases the reach and impact of their posts. I have personally experienced such shadow-banning and a stream of far-right comments on a collaborative post on Yoga and White Supremacy. It is exhausting.

To be honest, I am wary of the comments that might come up under this post. I know, I know: the golden rule on the Internet is to never read the comments. But I barely read three lines of one of the first comments and it was enough to make my heart sink and my fingers tremble. I have blocked, banned, and deleted, but the stench of their hate still lingers. I have been on high alert for the last three weeks because these men have begun to attack some of the commenters who have generously shared their personal stories under the original post. And that’s where I draw the line. I am not looking for sympathy or pats on the back - I just want to wake up tomorrow and not have to worry if more putrid comments will pop up on this space.

I think this is a perfect demonstration of what happens when tech is only designed by and for white men who don’t understand the pitfalls that women and other marginalised groups have to navigate and deal with every single day.

I am not scared to say that I am scared. I’m not saying that it’s a brave thing to write this post - I’m just tired of being a woman on the Internet.

S.