Many of us have been made privy to the racist past of white influencers and celebs online. Is this merely a part of coming of age? Or emblematic of us not being as progressive as we thought?
Adolescence consists of a plethora of mishaps, anxieties and events that often resemble something out of Shakespearean drama. For most, if not all, it’s a tough period. Much of our sense of self is shaped during these times, and, usually, a sense of both justice and morality are realised. I, for one, can look back on many times in my teenage years that make me cringe, many mistakes learned from and, on a few occasions, times where I may have been unkind or insensitive.
Coming of age is a complicated beast, but for some, bigotry, specifically racism, appears to be an “oopsie” on their long list of “young and dumb” errors. Despite how uncannily common this is- especially with young white influencers and celebrities- it is absolutely not normal, nor should we treat it as just another example of youthful ignorance.
What sparked my intrigue in this particular phenomenon, was the controversy surrounding Brooke Schofield. She is an American influencer and podcaster, known for ironically hosting the Cancelled podcast with Youtuber Tana Mongeau. She experienced peak virality whilst making Tiktok videos about her ex boyfriend Clinton Kane and their break up. Racist tweets from Schofield emerged from 2012 to 2015, including a 2013 tweet where she defended George Zimmerman over the death of Trayvon Martin, sparking outrage due to events surrounding Martin’s death in 2012. For context, many at the time were deeply saddened by the killing of Martin, which has since been held as a key example of racial inequalities in America.
Brooke Schofield -TikTok - Glamour mag
Similarly, beloved Tiktoker Alix Earle also had old “AskFM” comments found and leaked online, where she used anti-black racial slurs and made other offensive comments. Both have since publicly apologised, although Alix Earle did experience resentment over her delay in posting a public apology. Despite being some of the latest recipients of online disapproval, they are not the first (and may not be the last) people to have old offensive tweets resurface. In 2017, there was youtuber Jack Maynard’s homophobic and racist tweets, and the infamous Ebola tweet from James Charles. Seemingly, it appears to be a revolving door of racist comment, outrage, apologies and repeat. The events and stages of cancellation are so cyclical that there are memes of how almost all their apologies tend to have similar blueprint.
Image Rolling Stone
Now, when I stumble across a popular white content creator’s old (usually racist) tweets online, and the controversy it arouses. There's a myriad of questions that float in my mind. First and foremost, I wonder, "what were you thinking?", then questioning why, especially if they have a large following, people on these creators' immediate teams weren’t more vigilant and methodical about scrapping it. But eventually, whilst sitting with conflicting emotions of both resentment and pity, I’m left with intrusive thoughts about the person (or people) who orchestrated these tweets resurfacing. Wondering how they found the time to sift through hundreds, possibly thousands of tweets dating back to the early 2010s.
I’d be naïve to believe they were doing this out of altruism; that they were some benevolent online vigilantes dedicating themselves to righting parasocial wrongdoings. I should preface that, it is unequivocally weird and disturbing that there are this many popular online creators with a history of racism. However, it is simultaneously unsettling and weird, that anyone would hold on to an influencer's past tweets, waiting for the right moment, specifically at their peak, to bring their house of cards crumbling down. There is something quite sadistic about it, to the extent I would assume tweet - resurfacers feel quite gleeful as they watch the relevant microcosms of the internet descend into chaos. I picture these tweet-resurfacers with a mephistophelian cackle, witnessing people's lives turn upside down, whilst their engagement simultaneously rises.
Albeit a dramatic visual, the very fall from grace, for the controversial influencer, is equally that. It's quick and brutal. One minute everyone loves you, and the next, you're on trial in the court of public opinion waiting to be damned to an eternity (or a couple weeks) of cancellation.
To be frank, I find this reality quite depressing. In a social media age, it becomes increasingly evident that a once beloved influencer (or celebrity) could have a racist past. The prevalence of this phenomenon makes me wonder, is it us? Do we award online glory to the wrong people? Or perhaps it's a dark coincidence? These are questions I may never have the answer to, but what I can put in perspective is the burden of being made hyper-conscious of racism, especially in social media spaces, that people find escape in. It's a sudden realisation that you and the influencer in question, were living completely different realities.
Although I want to leave space for redemption, the normalisation of anti-blackness and bigotry as a feature of being “young and stupid” has insidious consequences. It implies that this is merely a “growing pain” or part of “coming of age”. Their youthful ignorance now becomes people of colour's responsibility.
I think it’s a clear reminder of how we like to feign how far we’ve come in terms of social justice, especially as Generation Z. We, as a generation, like to think that we’re better and more progressive than previous generations. But it appears that we have a lot more learning to do. Perhaps, even more so, with an abundance of resources at our fingertips, it may be more important than ever not to become complacent.
Edited by Cormac Nugent
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