The Colosseum of Comments: Where Blackness Is Always on Trial

Have you ever seen a Black person in a video doing something suboptimal and gone straight to the comments? Have you noticed that every type of person from all over the world’s racist views are ubiquitous across the comments?

It doesn’t matter what the Black individual is doing—whether it’s making a mistake, engaging in a petty argument, dancing in a way someone finds “cringe,” or simply expressing themselves in a way that's perceived as “too much.” The floodgates open. Suddenly, the comment section becomes a global meeting ground for every latent or explicit anti-Black sentiment to come pouring out, usually with little pushback.

And it’s not just Americans. People from countries that boast about their cultural tolerance, people from societies that proudly claim to be “colorblind,” and even members of other marginalized groups are quick to distance themselves from Blackness. You’ll see dog whistles, stereotypes disguised as humor, and outright slurs all coexisting beneath a video of someone who, if they were any other race, might just be seen as having a bad day.

Why Is Anti-Blackness So Globally Consistent?

Part of the answer lies in history. The legacy of colonialism, the transatlantic slave trade, and centuries of media representation have painted a caricature of Black people that continues to be exported and consumed around the world. Blackness, especially when disconnected from wealth, fame, or elite status, is often framed through a distorted lens: loud, aggressive, lazy, unintelligent, hypersexual, or criminal. These images are repeated so frequently that they become part of the cultural background noise—even in places where Black populations are statistically negligible.

In digital spaces, this bias gets amplified. Algorithms reward engagement, and outrage is profitable. A video that reinforces a stereotype—even unintentionally—can go viral not because it’s exceptional, but because it affirms what many already believe or want to mock. Comment sections turn into virtual colosseums, where ridicule of Blackness is the sport and anonymity is the armor.

But let’s be clear: this isn’t just about internet culture. The comment section is just a mirror. It reflects what people say in private, what they joke about among friends, what they teach their children without realizing. It's proof that racism isn't always loud or violent. Sometimes it’s casual, it’s performative, it’s algorithmic—and it’s everywhere.

The Value of Digital Transparency

And yet, in a strange way, it is good that we can see it. These comment sections offer a rare window into what many think but would never say in a face-to-face conversation. It exposes the true temperature of racial bias in global society—not just in formal policies, but in the undercurrent of individual minds. It confirms that racism has not disappeared; it has simply adapted, hiding behind screens and filters. Now that we can see it, we are better positioned to confront it.

What Can We Do?

The first step is acknowledging it, even when it makes us uncomfortable. If you're someone who has ever laughed at a “joke” in one of those comment sections or felt a twinge of superiority while watching, ask yourself why. Whose ideas have you inherited, and are you willing to interrogate them?

Because ultimately, changing the culture starts with individuals who refuse to passively consume it.

But awareness alone isn't enough. There must also be a conscious effort to rewire the mechanisms that allow these sentiments to thrive. Platforms must be held accountable—not just for hate speech but for the environments they cultivate. Social media giants are well aware of how their algorithms favor sensationalism, and yet they rarely implement meaningful guardrails. Anti-Blackness shouldn't be a side effect of algorithmic efficiency.

Education, too, plays a critical role. Not just in the classroom, but across all media and cultural institutions. People need to learn the true global history of Black oppression—not just slavery, but redlining, colorism, economic exclusion, cultural appropriation, and modern-day discrimination. It’s only through historical context that people begin to see how deep and interconnected the roots of anti-Blackness are.

Additionally, we must amplify and support content that humanizes Black people in all their variety. Videos that show joy, intelligence, vulnerability, innovation, and nuance shouldn’t be rare exceptions. They should flood our feeds just as often as any other content does. We don’t counter stereotypes by ignoring them—we counter them by overwhelming them with truth.

Our Role: Active Anti-Racism

And finally, we must examine our own participation. Every like, comment, share, or silence either challenges or sustains the problem. Anti-Blackness isn’t just "out there"—it’s in our choices, our reactions, our humor, our language. It’s not enough to simply "not be racist." The goal must be to be actively anti-racist, especially when it’s inconvenient or unpopular.

Because Black dignity shouldn’t be negotiable. Not online. Not anywhere. And until comment sections stop being dumping grounds for centuries of hate, we all have work to do.

The Power of Withholding and Sovereignty

But dignity isn’t just about how others perceive us—it's also about how we position ourselves. In an age where exposure often feels like currency, Black people are encouraged to showcase everything: their talents, their creativity, their struggles, their culture. Yet constant accessibility can come at a cost. There is power in withholding. There is strength in reserving parts of ourselves for ourselves.

Every time we freely give our cultural genius to platforms and corporations that disrespect, exploit, or underpay us, we reinforce the very structures that profit off our marginalization. Instead, we should increase our efforts toward self-sufficiency—owning our work, building our platforms, and investing in our communities. The goal isn’t isolation; it’s sovereignty.

Exclusivity, too, must be reframed. Not as division, but as protection. Not every space deserves access to Black brilliance, and not every bond ensures dignity. Cultural preservation, especially in the face of relentless appropriation and erasure, requires boundaries.

Even in our most intimate choices, we must be conscious of how systems shape our preferences. The pressure to assimilate often disguises itself as freedom. But real freedom includes the right to choose solidarity over symbolism, to prioritize those who understand and reflect our struggle without explanation.

Dignity is not just in fighting to be seen—it’s in choosing when and where to be visible. It’s in building with each other first. Because until we value our own, the world will continue to treat us as disposable.

Generational Wealth and Strategic Separation

And that value must be generational. We need to normalize the idea that our children deserve to inherit more than struggle. Financial literacy, wealth-building strategies, and intergenerational planning must become staples in our communities. It’s not enough to hope they succeed—we must equip them with tools, knowledge, and assets. We can invest now so they can inherit later—homes, businesses, land, education funds. Our children deserve a head start, not a deficit.

A certain amount of separation is not only strategic—it’s necessary. When a people are consistently demonized, constantly surveilled, and relentlessly misrepresented, boundaries become a form of healing. We must curate spaces where Black identity is protected, nourished, and celebrated without external distortion. Not to isolate ourselves from the world, but to recover from it and fortify ourselves within it.

This principle extends into family and cultural bonds as well. Interracial marriages, while often celebrated for their ideals of inclusion, can carry complex challenges in a society steeped in anti-Blackness. Children of these unions may face difficulties within families or communities where tolerance is not as deep or widespread as hoped. Preparing our children for these realities—while also strengthening cultural identity and pride—is crucial. The protection of Black legacy sometimes calls for careful consideration of whom we bind ourselves to, emphasizing preservation over assimilation.

Guarding Our Peace

Part of this protective separation means refusing to give energy to the toxic spaces created by racism. The comment sections where anti-Black vitriol thrives are not battlefields to win, but traps to avoid. Engaging in debates with racists online often only fuels the fire and grants legitimacy to harmful voices.

Instead, a dignified refusal to follow, comment, or share content from those spaces is an act of resistance. We protect our peace and strengthen our communities by not indulging the narratives of hatred and by cultivating spaces where our humanity is recognized and uplifted.

Because until we invest in our legacy, define our dignity, and guard our spaces, others will continue to do it for us—and rarely in our favor.