Social media frequently receives recognition as a space of progress, where anyone can post and can easily reach massive audiences. Beneath the heir of visibility and accessibility sits an older system that never left: colorism. While colorism in today’s day and age manifests in drastically different ways than it did 50 years ago, social media users still allow this construct to linger and influence digital spaces. Colorism frequently remains unnoticed because it rarely appears as open exclusion. Instead, colorism has adapted through social media trends, algorithms and beauty standards.
Colorism serves as the undercurrent for a plethora of social media creators; it began far before social media existed. Rooted in slavery, colonialism and a hierarchical society based on an individual’s skin color, colorism seeps through the pores of digital platforms around the world. In the past, proximity to white or fair skin has equated value, leading to the association of lighter skin with beauty and opportunity. On the contrary, darker skin continues to face undervaluation and invisibility across digital spaces. Despite its significance, this issue of invisibility rarely receives substantial attention because social media users fail to acknowledge it as dramatic or pressing.
“There’s a divide in the black community online, because a lot of people want to be in proximity to whiteness. They view whiteness as the prettiest you can be, or the beauty standard. You see a lot of girls saying things like ‘at least I’m lightskinned’ or ‘I have good hair,’ and it creates low racial self-esteem in girls who have a darker complexion,” magnet junior Anyanna Ekpechi said.
The effects of internalized colorism linger beneath engagement, views and likes. Lighter-skinned creators receive increased engagement and faster growth, consequently creating a farther-reaching sphere of influence than individuals with darker complexions. Forced to constantly prove their worth in spaces that claim to recognize inclusivity, darker-skinned individuals frequently work harder to receive similar visibility. This gap becomes especially clear within the beauty industry. Makeup brands flood social media with posts surrounding inclusivity, but continue to release foundation ranges that fail to accommodate darker skin tones. In a plethora of social media promotions and product launches, exemplified by brands such as Youthforia, shades for darker complexions appear to be treated as an afterthought. Creators like Golloria on TikTok call for inclusivity, exposing brands and providing honest reviews of various products. The fact that creators like Golloria must publicly pressure companies to include their skin tone speaks volumes.
“I think the concept of colorism in the black community is ridiculous. We share the same beautiful melanin, whether dark or light, and the fact that some skin tones are favored over others doesn’t make any sense. The black community would be so much more united if we would release ourselves from the shackles of colorism first,” junior Nelo Giwa-Amu said.
Critics argue that social media massively diminished the impact of colorism to offer equal opportunity for visibility. Advocates of this perspective claim that since platforms operate on engagement rather than identity, creator success depends solely on their ability to engage with an audience. However, this argument ignores how systems of visibility and engagement actually function on digital platforms such as TikTok. While algorithms may not overtly categorize by skin tone, engagement with certain creators reflects societal norms, such as colorism. The visibility of darker-skinned creators fails to negate the issue of colorism; instead, it demonstrates the amount of resiliency and disproportionate effort required for melanated creators to succeed. This pattern reflects centuries of inequality, where online visibility exists as evidence of adaptation rather than equality.
