BLACK GIRLS ARE NOT THE BUTT OF YOUR RACIST JOKE
We’re Not Laughing — We’re Tired
There’s a moment that many Black girls know too well: the room goes quiet, someone says something racist, and then — laughter. Not just from strangers, but from peers. From people who claim to be allies. From people who should know better.
Recently, Olandria Carthen, Love Island breakout star, was laughed at after being called a racial slur on someone else’s live. We will not name the individual who laughed — because they do not deserve our platform, but we will name the harm. What happened was not just inappropriate. It was violent.
While this happened to Olandria, it happens to Black people, and especially Black women — every single day. In classrooms, on social media, in workplaces, in friend groups.
The question is: when is enough enough?
Racist jokes are not only harmful, they are rooted in centuries of dehumanization, and when you laugh at them, or stay silent, you become complicit in that harm. For Black girls and women, these moments are not isolated. They are part of a long history of being stereotyped, dismissed, and disrespected.
This post is not a request for kindness. It’s a demand for accountability. Because Black girls are not the butt of your joke. We never were.
The History Behind the Slurs
The N-word is not just a word. It is a weapon forged in slavery, sharpened during Jim Crow, and still wielded today. It was used to dehumanize, to justify violence, to strip Black people of dignity and identity. For Black women, the slur carries an added layer of misogynoir. The intersection of racism and sexism that uniquely targets us.
Historically, Black women were labeled with slurs and stereotypes to justify their exploitation. These weren’t just insults, they were and still are tools of control.
“Breeders”: During slavery, Black women were reduced to reproductive property. They were not seen as mothers, but as vessels to produce more enslaved laborers. Their bodies were commodified, their autonomy erased, and their humanity denied. This legacy still echoes today in how Black women’s reproductive choices are policed and pathologized.
“Wenches”: This term referred to young Black women who were hypersexualized and often targeted for sexual violence. It was used to justify rape and exploitation by framing Black women as inherently promiscuous and available. This stereotype laid the foundation for the “Jezebel” trope, a myth that still influences how Black women are treated in media, healthcare, and the justice system.
“Mammies”: The mammy stereotype depicted Black women as loyal, nurturing, and self-sacrificing caretakers of white families. It erased our autonomy and reduced us to labor and emotional support for everyone but ourselves. It reinforced the idea that Black women exist to serve, not to be served — a narrative that still shows up in workplaces, friendships, and activism spaces.
These terms weren’t just offensive. They were functional. They shaped laws, social norms, and cultural narratives that still affect how Black women are seen and treated today.
The Stereotypes That Still Harm Us
Black women are constantly navigating a minefield of stereotypes that shape how we’re perceived, punished, and policed.
The Mammy: Erases our needs and casts us as caretakers for everyone but ourselves.
The Jezebel: Hypersexualizes us and denies us protection.
The Angry Black Woman: Silences us by framing our valid emotions as aggression.
Adultification: Treats Black girls as older, less innocent, and more responsible than their peers, leading to harsher discipline, less empathy, and increased vulnerability to abuse.
These stereotypes are not relics of the past. They show up in classrooms, workplaces, hospitals, and social spaces. They shape how Black girls are treated — and how they are harmed.
Microaggressions Are Not Minor
“You’re so articulate.”
“You don’t act Black.”
“I was just playing.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Can I touch your hair?”
AND YES… LAUGHING AT SOMEONE BEING CALLED A RACIAL SLUR.
These comments and actions may seem small, and many will deem them as harmless. However, they are reminders that we are being watched, judged, and othered. They are constant signals that we are not fully accepted, that we are tolerated, not celebrated.
Microaggressions are not minor. They are cumulative. They chip away at our confidence, our safety, and our sense of belonging. And when they’re dismissed as “not that serious,” the harm is doubled.
We’re Not Taking It Anymore
We are not taking:
Your racist jokes
Your silence when harm happens
Your defensiveness when called out
Your expectation that we educate you while being disrespected
Your discomfort when we speak truth to power
We are not shrinking to make you comfortable. We are not laughing along to keep the peace. We are not tolerating harm dressed up as humor.
This space is not neutral. It is protective. It is intentional. It is ours.
De-platforming Is Accountability
Calling out racism is not enough — we must also de-platform it.
That means:
Unfollowing people who perpetuate harm
Unsubscribing from creators who mock, stereotype, or silence Black voices
Refusing to share content that uses racism for engagement
Condemning hate publicly, not just privately
Visibility is power. When we continue to give attention to people who harm Black women, we reinforce their platform. We must be intentional about where our energy, clicks, and dollars go.
If someone laughs at a slur, they are not “just messy” — they are dangerous and they do not deserve our views, our likes, or our silence.
What Accountability Looks Like
Accountability is not a performance. It’s not a rushed apology or a defensive explanation. It’s listening. It’s owning the harm. It’s changing behavior. It’s understanding that your intent doesn’t erase our impact.
If you cross the line, expect to be called out. Expect to be held accountable. Expect to be uncomfortable — because growth is uncomfortable.
And if you truly want to do better, start by supporting the work already being done by Black women and girls.
Support These Organizations
If you’re serious about change, put your money, time, and voice behind it.
The Loveland Foundation – Therapy for Black women and girls
Black Girls Smile – Mental health advocacy
The Good Girl Movement – Empowering Black girls through community and culture
Color of Change – Racial justice campaigns
Sisters Mentally Mobilized – Mental health and leadership for Black women
Final Words
Black girls deserve joy.
Black girls deserve safety.
Black girls deserve to be seen, heard, and protected.
We are not the butt of your joke. We are the backbone of this culture. And we are done being disrespected.
PS… We are riding for every black girl who has endured this type of hate.