We know the abuse is going to come, and we do the show anyway. That takes more strength than you know
Think back for a moment to being at school. Can you remember that kid, the one who did all those foolish and ridiculous things simply to get attention? The one who would relish getting told off by the teachers because it made them feel cool, and gave them hope that their ridiculous, childish behaviour would hand them the keys to the cool gang.
It would always be that kid who would resort to bullying when they didn’t get those keys, when they didn’t get the power of popularity they craved. In their minds, displaying hate was the only way to show the depths of their anger to those they believed had wronged them. We all had one of those kids in school.
In adulthood, there will always be that one guy who, despite careering towards middle age (with all the grey hairs that accompany it), will still be desperately trying to get the attention of the cool gang, who then turns to bullying when he can never seem to hold on to it.
That is, in a nutshell, the mindset of those grown-ups on social media who engage in an online lynching just about every time ITV airs an all-black episode of Loose Women. It did so this week – and predictably, the online floodgates opened.
Within their small-minded, hateful and quite frankly weird little community, screaming at black women on social media appears to be one of their favourite pastimes.
Most people go cycling, meet friends for coffee, go for walks, play sports, watch films in their spare time. But this lot spend their downtime logging on to X (formerly Twitter) and posting racist and sexist abuse, before settling down to have their tea and watch Corrie. It’s just so unbelievably weird, and really does have the waft of the spoiled child at school, stamping their feet, desperate for some kind of attention.
This is what myself and other Loose Women panellists face every single time we do an all-black panel on the ITV show. These panels happen two or three times a year, when our schedules allow, and just like every other episode of Loose Women, they are fun, informative, heartfelt and joyful. The only difference is they are from the perspective of black women. This week we talked about faith – growing up in majority black churches and the highs and lows that can involve. Kelle Bryan is an ordained minister in a black majority church, which is a perspective you don’t hear often on TV.
And that’s when the trolls crawl out of their caves. The show has done programmes focused on, for example, those with disabilities, those with hearing impairments and much more. Representation is woven into the DNA of the show these days. Yet with each of those specials, weasels gather and prepare to launch an online attack, cackling away behind their screens. It’s just so 2013.
Me and the other ladies know that the abuse is going to come but we do the show anyway. That takes more strength than you know. But we’re far too long in the tooth to be bullied into leaving our jobs, our careers, and losing our incomes because racist trolls feel like they should have control of what we do and how we conduct our lives.
My parents stood firm in a country that consistently rejected them, marched on the streets against organisations such as the National Front in the Battle of Lewisham, and dodged violence by the NF on a daily basis on the streets of south London. Imagine if they did all this only for me – the kid they worked six jobs between them to send through school – to back down to people on the internet.
Nah, mate.
If there’s one thing that is always ill-advised, it is underestimating the resilience of a black woman, especially when she’s pissed off. These people ought not to underestimate the crew we have around to back us, hold us up, and fight back on our behalf either.
Or those wonderful people both online and off who enjoy the shows we do. Those who get excited when they see us, those who can’t believe that four successful black women get to take over their screens for an hour in the afternoons. Finally.
But for those for whom that is too much, and the sight of us is a bitter pill to swallow, I have some advice. Choose another pastime – yoga perhaps? – to help those hate-filled, addled brains see the beauty that is all that melanin popping on ITV.
