Is Social Media Sharing of Black Trauma an Extension of Public Lynching?

E. Danielle Butler
5 min readNov 2, 2022

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It happened again. A Black man’s death was recorded and then shared widely across social media. But this time it was not in an attempt to hold persons of authority accountable for their actions. It wasn’t recorded and shared as a means to expose injustices and serve as proof of crimes committed against our people. It was posted, viewed, shared, and bounced from platform to platform — not for justice, but for entertainment. For likes. For shares. For content. As a storyteller, all I could think was “but what about his family?”

Some others raised the same sentiments. While we as the general public see celebrities, what we have is real people experiencing real hurt and real loss. A similar occurrence happened when the Dahmer series came out earlier this year. One of the families expressed anger at the revisiting of trauma. Clips from the series and the trial itself were being reshared on social media. They were pissed, understandably so. To casually share the triggers of heartache is a blatant disregard for the victim’s humanity. It is irresponsible and disrespectful to their families and friends who have been thrust into mourning.

I’ve been thinking about all of this for quite some time. I’m an empath and creative, so stories both of joy and pain often sit with me. I hold space for those involved and carry the weight of consideration. I’m wife to a Black man and mother to a Black son, so there’s also an anxiety and uncertainty that accompanies my perspective. I can’t help but wonder if we’ve got this all wrong.

My husband runs a media company. As expected people share all sorts of information with him. At any given moment, his phone is pinging with information, stories, moments, and occurrences that people hope he’ll share on his platform. For some, they want to share news through a Black media channel. For others, they are hoping for a chance to have their scoop or perspective shared on a larger platform. Still others just want to contribute to the stream of chatter called content. I’ll never forget the night a local man was killed by police here in Atlanta. We were already in bed and suddenly my husband’s phone is buzzing. Calls. Texts. DMs. People were reaching out to him from the scene of the crime. The video was in his inbox probably at the same time (if not before) the major news outlets. No warning. Just the video of a Black man being murdered. What was he supposed to do with it? Share it on his platform without regard for the victim’s family? Add it to the feed of those scrolling to unknowingly come across? Use it as added fuel to an already tense racial climate? Somehow tapped as a gatekeeper for Black trauma in the name of news once again, he decided to disengage. “I’m not sharing that.” He closed his phone, exhausted. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. In April 2022 he participated in a transparent interview in which he pleaded for people to stop sending him videos of murders and callous death announcements. He talked about the people behind the posts. Real people. People’s family members. Personal friends. I wish that had gone viral.

As he shared his heart that day, I couldn’t help but think about the way that the media and public historically contributed to the normalization of lynching in the south. News of Black lynchings were advertised in newspapers and posted throughout towns. Public lynchings were a spectator sport. Hundreds and thousands of people gathered around to watch people suffer.

Other lynchings happened with Black bodies put on display as warnings and reminders without regard to their humanity. Black bodies swinging from trees and left in fields was a part of the culture and therefore a dehumanized experience for many. I think about how many people have shared horrific stories under the guise of being “for the culture”. Does social media allow us to turn terrifying violence into clickbait and thus become an extension of modern-day lynch parties? Are we converting those that are viewing the videos into part of the mobs and audiences watching as Black men are brought to death?

Think about it. Even when we watch the news, what has become mainstream and shareable has evolved over time. Things that would have never been exposed to the public via mass media are now broadcast with a thinly placed ‘graphic warning’ and occasional black censor bar over the really devastating portions. The daily positioning is lowering our guard, numbing us to reality. The reality is, someone has lost their life. A person is no longer here. Have we as a community become so desensitized to Black trauma and death that we are willing participants in the perpetuation of such acts?

Today timelines and channels are flooded with RIP posts and images. We the public are mourning the loss of a public figure. One who was young, talented, and dared to share his gift with the world. But his family is mourning much more than that. They are grappling with the news that their lives have changed forever. They are likely dealing with authorities and investigations. They are also likely facing an unavoidable onslaught of public opinion from news outlets to social media. That’s unfair. That’s too much. And quite frankly, that sucks.

My plea is that we as a community continue to heal from generational traumas. That we relinquish the need to feed ourselves devastating videos and images for the sake of being in the know. I ask that we honor the souls and the families of those whose lives have ended. That we offer respect, regard, and genuine care toward our fellow man. That we consider the other side. What if it were our loved one? Today could be the day that we exchange the sharing of trauma for compassion.

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E. Danielle Butler

Creative Thinker. Writer. Social Justice Warrior. Wife. Mother. Opinions my own.