How to Speak Up: Social Media, Tragedy, and “Diversity”

Too loud when we shouldn’t be and too silent when we don’t need to be

I know that during nationally difficult times people really really want to say something, and I know that direct action isn’t an option for most people. However, we’re only halfway through the year, and I’m already exhausted.

As a member of multiple marginalized groups, I feel beyond shock. In Mississippi where I graduated from college this year, both the Black and LGBTQ+ community were threatened — with the state flag/Confederate flag issue and HB1523 respectively. Now, on a national level, we’ve been hit with the Orlando massacre and more police violence against Black people. I won’t delve into the specifics of either, as so many have already said what I would intend to say.

Strangely, the social media storm around all this seems to be simultaneously bland and annoying. People are yelling at each other over the Internet, and there’s a mad race to find the most inflamatory memes that align with your political views. Things start to feel a little insincere, often bordering on disrespectful, even from the people claiming to support those who have been victimized. People have died or are afraid of real violence being enacted against them, and we’re prowling Facebook comment sections hoping to win points for our side of the argument.

Less in-your-face, however, are the vague messages that call for peace and claim to embrace diversity, usually right after a tragic event, that don’t even name the affected populations. Following the Mississippi governor signing in HB1523, I received a message in my student email inbox saying that my school was devoted to “diversity.” I read the message over again and ruminated on it throughout the day with growing irritation. What was it I disliked so much about the email?

It felt uncommitted and afraid — afraid of upsetting the people who were against equality while failing to offer any real support to the LGBTQ+ campus community.

I’d heard this kind of language months before when people were starting to discuss why the state flag — with its Confederate battle flag emblem in the top left — made so many black people fell threatened, uncomfortable, or unaccepted as citizens. Some people at our school urged us to think about “diversity,” and our school remained lukewarm on whether or not to fly the state flag on our campus while so many other schools had opted to take it down.

The same thing happened with HB1523. When Mississippi’s LGBTQ+ community was worried about the myriad hurtful ways that HB1523 could be interpreted and whether we would lose some rights come July, we were essentially given a pat on the back and told it would be okay because the school was “committed to diversity.”

Now, in July, with more people dead, we’re getting inundated with memes once more, everyone making a political point out of tragedy, trying to make sure everyone on their friends list knows exactly what they think. However, I always stop and puzzle over the people saying that they want “peace.” This has become such a vague and empty word to me recently as I realize that everyone’s version of peace is vastly different.

One person’s “peace” and “diversity” equals minorities shutting up about their problems and putting up with mistreatment, basically ignoring the problems and pain in favor of allowing the majority in power to feel that everything is okay. Then there are the people asking for peace who I know would be allies but are too afraid to say what they mean, opting to hide behind words that readers can interpret in a way that aligns with the readers’ own perspectives on the issue.

What Can Be Done Differently?

  1. Please do not vomit on social media.

I know that everyone has really strong feelings about these issues, and right now, I’m talking to people who would define themselves as allies to the LGBTQ+ or Black communities. Before posting, give yourself a second to calm down and process the news for yourself. After you’ve given yourself time to think, decide if you still feel the need to post. I’m definitely not speaking for everyone here, but I feel that short notes written by the person who is making the post speak volumes more than any meme that one can reflexively click the “share” button on. It can be as simple as: “I’m deeply disturbed by the violence/hatred against/of [group of people] and want my friends who are part of these communities to know that I want to be of support in this troubling time.”

I would love this infinitely more than seeing yet another reposted screenshot of a political rant. I guess my point is: be truly thoughtful and genuine.

2. Please stop reposting footage of violent murders.

You don’t need to share videos as “proof,” especially when Facebook and other websites now have features like auto-play. Some people aren’t prepared to watch these videos and may accidentally stumble upon them. You don’t know how negatively this may affect different people. So many people have written something along the lines of, “I tried not to watch the video.”

Most importantly however, consider whether the way in which you’re posting these videos is respectful to the victims’ families.

3. Please tell us if you’re supporting us.

Elements of my first point could be repeated here, but if you’re able to, please name the people you’re supporting. I’ve read so many pieces that feel somehow ambivalent at the end. When something scary has just happened and you’re wondering for the fifth time this year if your community or country hates you, it’s really nice to know who’s your ally — and if you’re an ally, part of your job is to be supportive! When you write, “I just want peace,” do you mean, “I want our country to fully accept and support LGBTQ+ individuals?” Do you mean, “I want violent hate crimes/police brutality to stop”? Do you mean, “I want the news to stop reporting bad things so that I can pretend the world is okay”? (Hopefully not that last one, but you get my point.)

4. “Diversity”

Look, it’s a nice enough word, and I use it all the time, but when you’re using it around people who may not be super familiar with you, it helps to elaborate or use a more specific word.

I’m picking on this word because I feel like a lot of people use it to hide behind in order to pacify people. I don’t need to be pacified. Either say what you mean or don’t say anything at all.

5. It’s okay not to have a lot to say.

I’m going to refer back to my first point again. It’s okay to say one short but meaningful, thoughtful thing and be done. Especially among your friend group, people will already know what your stance is and hopefully they know they can confide in you if needed. However, what you don’t want is a narcissistic display on your social media page that desperately screams, “Look how liberal and appropriately angry I am!!!”


There’s this amazing thing about having fights with strangers on the Internet: They get angry. You get angry. Insults are slung. Each party leaves feeling that their position is more validated, and nothing is accomplished. I’m not saying that one can’t explain their feelings and reasoning to others, but when the other person is not open to listening and is entrenched in their view, it doesn’t help to argue. Don’t let your ego get in the way, especially when something tragic has just happened. When the situation becomes about yourself and being right, it’s disrespectful to people who are actually suffering because of recent events.

I’m not saying that no one can say anything ever, but please be mindful of others’ feelings and pain and especially the victims. Be a truly supportive ally if you identify as an ally, and be open to listening to people of marginalized identities.

Put simply: Don’t appropriate people’s pain for political statements so you can get more “like”s, retweets, and shares. Just don’t.