VCG Blog Archive: What Happens Beyond The Black Squares?
October is Black History Month in the UK. I'm revisiting my thoughts on the 2020 social media blackout in support of Black Lives Matter and what the cycling industry did next.
I’m delving into the archives of my defunct blog, Vélo-City-Girl (a significant part of my ‘Author origin story’), to share some of the best bits of my previous writing with you.
This will be a regular feature on VeloMail, and articles from the VCG Blog Archive will be freely available for everyone on Substack to read.
Please like, leave a comment and, of course, Restack and share the post if you’ve enjoyed it!
Best, Jools x
October 2023: It is Black History Month UK, and I'm revisiting "What Happens Beyond The Black Squares?" - an essay I wrote in June 2020 in response to that summer's social media blackout by the cycling and outdoor industries in support of Black Lives Matter.
It has been just over two weeks since we witnessed a mass of black squares appear on Instagram.
We all watched as #BlackOutTuesday flooded our feeds on 2nd June: shared by friends, followers and brands, posting them in an attempt to express solidarity with those protesting the murders of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor (and despairingly, there are more names to add to this morbid roll call of Black lives taken), and in solidarity with Black Lives Matter.
What originally started as #TheShowMustBePaused (a social media protest set up by Black music industry executives Jamila Thomas and Brianna Agyeman), you would see the black square posted over and over again, often frustratingly with #BlackLivesMatter tagged into it, which in turn, drowned out vital resources that were being shared on the BLM hashtag.
I was among the millions of IG users who posted a black square. I will also freely admit that I grappled with keeping it on my feed, wondering, like many other social media users, if posting it could do more harm than good.
I kept my square up. But I also kept an eye on brands and publications in the cycling and outdoor industry who posted black squares. It would be remiss of me not to, as they’re the circles I’ve moved in – sometimes uncomfortably – for the past ten years.
Some squares were shared with just the hashtag and nothing more; others with mission statements, promising to ‘be better’ and ‘do more’. In a perfect world, I’d have felt encouraged seeing some of these goliath brands and publications coming out in solidarity – but it’s not a perfect world. It was impossible not to feel sceptical about the sudden outpouring of diversity, equity and inclusion sentiments and strategies when it has taken the death of yet another Black man and the BLM movement to ignite the blue touch paper for some cycling and outdoor brands to take a stand and promise to make changes.
Being on a bike means the world to me, but it has also been my world to speak out on the lack of diversity, inclusion and blinkered ignorance in the industry. When you repeatedly witness zero changes and no engagement being offered, you question if anything will ever progress.
Black people have been engaged in discussions about feeling like we’re left out and not reflected in the cycling and outdoor industry for the longest time. Many of us have been speaking on this and saying the same things for the longest time. It’s exhausting, very often demoralising and proves that we still have to shout even louder than the last time to be heard. I know for me, at least, it’s been the last ten years I’ve been on a bike, and I’m still talking about it.
I’ve lost count of the number of panels, workshops, focus groups, campaigns and discussions I’ve been part of – all seemingly positive – expecting and hoping to see a shift in the narrative, which falls completely flat. Even when I was working full-time in the cycling industry as an Operations Manager, there were plenty of times when working to their brand ethos for change and inclusivity felt like utter bullshit. I’m tired of feeling like I’m losing my voice and having my voice and worth shot down repeatedly.
It’s been fascinating to watch broader discussions opening up on social media as the BLM movement gathers incredible momentum. Take a moment to look at the #PublishingPaidMe tag on Twitter for some insightful and eye-watering conversations in the publishing world. Grab a cup of tea and scroll through some being spilt on the @InfluencerPayGap account on Instagram. Frank discussions on influencer work and what it’s like to move in those circles as a Black woman for the past ten years have brought back painful memories. I spoke out on my wild experience with a major outdoor/active publication (and their subsequent comeback to me), which I’d been too embarrassed to discuss before.
I was also reminded of experiences I had within the television industry (once upon a time, I used to work as a TV presenter) and being told by one of the producers I was ‘misinformed’ about the fee I was entitled to even though I’d done my homework and spoke to people in the industry who did similar work and advised me on what it should be. I loved the idea of doing more television work, but since working on that show, that’s never happened again.
But I just sucked it all up. I sucked it all up because I knew the repercussions of simply and confidently standing up for yourself as a Black woman. It feels mad to be afraid to speak out on things because of fear. There is the real fear of being labelled ‘difficult to work with’, ‘aggressive’ and ‘feisty’ and the fear that you’ll lose further work opportunities if you say something. Seriously. As highlighted in an ace blog post by Marcus Ryder, there is ‘the very real issue of the repercussions Black people face when speaking our truth’, whether in public or at work.
It was impossible not to feel sceptical about the sudden outpouring of diversity, equity and inclusion sentiments and strategies when it’s taken the death of yet another Black man and the BLM movement to ignite the blue touch paper for some cycling and outdoor brands to take a stand and promise to make changes.
So, what happens next?
I know I’ll still be ‘Lady Velo’ and will continue to use my voice, even though my doing this appears to have surprised some. Discovering folks in what I call my ‘Cycling Family’ who I thought have had my back forever and don’t has been eye-opening. You might think of me as being a sad person for keeping an eye on who’s staying silent and who is dropping off my radar by unfollowing me in all of this, but it’s an absolute education on who your allies are.
I’ll still be me, so I’m not going to apologise for being ‘a bit too much’ for you at the moment or if being associated with me in cycling is now ‘way too political’ for you. I’m not going to apologise for speaking up or clogging up your feed with images that are not just tasty-looking bikes, smart kit, beautiful vistas from a saddle, and banging outfits. Yes, I post about that stuff… but not all of the time. I’ve been like this from the start, but now this surprises some of you.
I’d love to be able to tune out of all of this madness and go on nothing but a permanent self-care vacation. But for me and other Black folks like me out there, this madness is every day. None of us wants to be talking about just this stuff all the time. Even when we switch off from the news and social media and try our best not to scroll through what’s going on, we’re constantly scrolling through this shit in our minds, over and over again. I wish I had the luxury of completely switching off and not worrying about anything and just riding it out on my bike – but that’s not how it is.
The sound of me speaking my truths in cycling and what I’ve experienced – good and bad – has always been activism. My cycling has always been a form of activism – even when you don’t clock it as that. The sight of me on my bike, filling up your feeds for other Black people out there to see me and know that we exist in this world – it’s always been activism.
… And what’s next for these brands and industries?
I say this to all of the brands I’ve ever worked with (even those outside of cycling) and those who I’ve yet to have dealings with for many reasons: Your mission statements to be more diverse and inclusive, making things more equitable, and implementing changes have to be acted upon, but in a correct manner: If it’s taken you until this moment to realise you need to do something/take action, perhaps think about why that is. Reflection is also vital here. Do it, but do it right.
Seeing some of you coming out in support of Black Lives Matter and change is long overdue. It’s a long overdue fight against systemic racism… but this momentum has to continue. Don’t let this be a performative and disingenuous moment on your part.
As many of you go back to your daily lives, all of this continues. You must still stand with us and your mission statements when #BlackLivesMatter is no longer trending. Be about the continued action and not just the rhetoric because it suits the mood and gets you bonus clicks. We are watching you on this. We always have been (even if you’ve not been looking at us and we are RIGHT under your nose), and we always will be.
Black lives and experiences will still matter, even if you’ve decided to stop tweeting or ‘gramming about it.