The Ugly Side of Social

Well – I got my fingers burned this weekend. Never has my LinkedIn blown up quite so much. Because I expressed a point of view that some people disagreed with. I am familiar with social media. It’s been a big part of my career for a long time. But when unkindness is levelled at you personally – it makes you step back and take a moment.

I found it interesting that hundreds of people have supported it. But some of the most vocal ones simply didn’t get it. At all.

I was accused of white baiting, race baiting, being a liar, had stats chucked at me and equivalence thrown in too. Add in some extra juice of only wanting likes or engagement, a comment about how we should be ‘colourblind’ and the denial of white privilege for good measure, and there you have it. The cherry on top of this particularly unpleasant cake was someone needing to express their views by calling another person a moron (which thankfully, was later edited by that commenter.) And the comments haven't stopped yet.

Completely unnecessary. The ugly side of social.

It’s easy to sit and be a keyboard warrior. To hide behind the safety of your screen thinking it’s okay to bash out your words. To write a comment and give it no thought. Which is why I decided not to reply to everyone. I took a step back – because I am human. I muted my notifications. Because whilst people are busy tapping away their words – a human being with real feelings is reading every single one. A person. Me.

I doubted myself, for a moment. I wondered did I express myself wrong. Did I say it wrong?

Then I stopped myself. Because – I am entitled – as are you to have an opinion, a view that is shaped on my own experiences. It does not make me an expert. It does not make me an authority on any matter. But I never said it did. Sometimes I might get it wrong – but what I always do is give myself checks and balances. People in my life, strong women and men from different cultures, backgrounds, places, even countries who aren’t afraid to tell me when I am wrong. People far more experienced than me in many ways, people I look up to. I am not afraid to say if I get things wrong, because that’s how we grow, how I grow. But what I won’t take lightly is accusations that simply are not true. It is far, far too easy to give someone a label on a whim. Every single person that knows me, knows that I am not, and never would write anything with an ‘anti-white rhetoric’, I am not an attention seeker, and I am not and never will be a white baiter/ race baiter. Label label label. Mud mud mud.

But what I realised, as I hid, yes, hid from the world on Saturday, was that many of the shouting voices didn’t do one thing. They didn’t see the sentiment behind the comment. ?It was this – that I felt – and still feel strongly – that the media report stories of people of colour differently, and it matters how we report them. For me Sabina Nessa was a prime example of that. When I first heard about her incredibly sad death, I didn’t see that same social media outrage even 3, 4 days later. I wanted to find out more about it. She was going out in a place I lived in less than a year ago. Around the same age. Similar ethnic backgrounds. Now before the inevitable fact checkers get any knickers in a twist – I am aware the circumstances around her death are different. I am well aware of that. I am also aware that that her family had asked for it not to be in the media to begin with. And to make it very clear again – at the time I wrote my comment, her vigil hadn’t been announced. At her vigil hundreds, if not thousands of people turned up. Was there a similar royal presence there too?

Systemic racism has played a part in how stories are reported whether you are comfortable acknowledging that or not. When I was growing up, the stories of children that I remember most being covered front and centre were Sarah Payne, Holly Wells, Jessica Chapman, Madeleine McCann. All horribly tragic stories. Names stuck in my head. All white children. But without googling, tell me a name of someone from a different background that you remember. Can you do that?

Growing up, I wondered why the stories of children who were darker skinned like me didn’t have the big letters on the front of the paper. Why they were just little columns in a huge double page spread. I wondered if they went missing too. ?

So here’s a question. Did you look at what I wrote from a different viewpoint other than your own? Did you put yourself in someone’s else’s shoes?

Were you curious, or did you judge?

I don’t create content for engagement. I create content when I have something to say. I care about many things. Like feeling safe in the dark. I wrote about that too, not, as I was accused, for any likes or shares, but because I cared. I got many pictures of the vigils, many stats. But – those telling me those things didn’t take a moment to hear what I was saying with their ears open. The loudest person in the room isn’t always right. Shouting someone down doesn’t quieten their voice. It just makes them more determined to be heard.

I found it fascinating when I saw a story in the Daily Mail over the weekend talking about a ‘vile smear’ that Sabina’s case hadn’t been reported properly. Oh, the sheer and utter outrage! It was almost comical that such a big defence needed to be leapt to. But let’s look at how stories are reported. Where were the headlines for Blessing Olusegun when she went missing? Is Aamina Khan a name you are familiar with, ten years after her disappearance? If stories were reported fairly in the first place, do you think people would feel this way? Why do you think people who are not white feel that they aren’t heard, that their stories are not told? An opinion piece in the Independent asked the same thing.

And to those that say they ‘don’t see colour’, that we should be colour blind – I expect behind this comment is good intent. But it’s na?ve and unbelievably patronising. Racism stemmed from those with a different colour skin being oppressed for centuries, being treated differently because their skin is a different colour. Identity is formed of many things, but the colour of one’s skin – where you come from, your heritage – is part of your cultural make up. And that is something to be completely proud of – not for someone to tell you they don’t see you – because that is essentially what that comment says. ??

The world is changing, and we want to become more inclusive and open and have a place where people can belong – and feel safe in that belonging. But things have to change. Systemic racism is there – and it has to be called out for change to happen. For those who have never had to experience prejudice because of the way they look, because of who they are, it isn’t comfortable. And why should it be? It is not my job, or anyone else’s to make you empathise. That is for you to do, to understand, to learn, to educate yourself– if you want to. But if you get defensive the moment someone expresses a viewpoint, an opinion, that is different to your own, and you don’t keep your ears open to what they are saying – then you will never be able to have an inclusive conversation. You will never be able to grow. Because your mind is already closed. Use insults, and words of unkindness – you frankly make yourself look as small minded as the words you type.

As for me – I will continue to do what I love and write when I feel passionately about the topic. How you react – well that’s up to you. Social media definitely has its ugly sides. It has been very difficult reading these comments over the weekend, seeing people I care about being insulted. Part of me wondered whether to delete the post, to disable comments. But I realised that I would be giving in to the few who try to shout the loudest, and not the hundreds who have supported it – because the greatest thing about social media is that it gives a platform to the quietest voice. It provides a platform for debate, for thought, for discussion. Yes - it can be ugly but it can also be powerful. It’s been an experience, a humbling one, and one that I won’t forget in a hurry. ?But has it discouraged me? No. It’s made me stronger, and more grateful than ever for being raised to always be true to myself, and to those around me that constantly keep me honest, balanced, and supported. I believe in myself, and what I write – and that is enough.

And to those that didn’t understand my viewpoint – I leave the door open to you to have a conversation with me. To my face. I am always willing to learn, and listen to what others have to say. So perhaps it’s a chance for you to listen to me too. I will happily send over my contact details to those who want to chat.

My final thought is this. Perhaps before you comment on a post you see, take a moment. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Behind everything you write there is a real person and those words you write have an impact.

Be quick to listen, and slow to speak.