Women's Basketball and Racism: Angel Reese and the Veil of Social Media

“Some hardcore h*s… 

That’s some nappy-headed h*s” –

Infamous words spoken by Don Imus as he discussed Rutgers women’s college basketball team post the NCAA tournament in 2007 versus Tennessee. Words uttered that are still a chilling reminder of the undeniable racism and sexism that were and still are ever present in women’s sports. From being called “jigaboos” (a historically racist and contemptuous term directed towards Black people) by Imus, to being compared to men by the other commentators, the hateful words about the Rutgers women’s basketball team spewed out like lava and ash from an erupting volcano – incautious and destructive.

Words Matter. Words Wound.

I was 17 years old when I first heard the harmful narrative spoken by Imus and his company. As a young Black girl and high school basketball player at the time, I was crushed by these words … crushed like a ton of bricks slowly being piled on top of me, one by one. The words played over and over in my head. Thinking back, the words penetrated my psyche as if to consume me – a slow and painful realization that my worldview was not as it seemed. Is that really what they think of them? And if I am a reflection of them… is that all they think of me? Do you mean to tell me that if I go to college and engage in extracurricular activities … my existence will still be minimized to nothing more than a “nappy headed h*” or “jigaboo”, simply because of the way that I look? Where is the humanity in that? Aren’t they human? Aren’t I? These questions danced in my mind then and still do today.

Racism and the Veil of Social Media

Racism has irrefutable consequences and is unequivocally damaging. The effects are far-reaching and negatively impact the mental and physical health of the people who experience it. Additionally, there are social, political, economic, and communal consequences that exist as a result of systemic racism.

As a Millennial who grew up during the technology boom and the era when social media emerged in the early 2000s, online hate is no stranger to me. MySpace (est. 2003) was a playground for social connectivity, self-expression, and friendly HTML and CSS coding – or so it seemed.

Sites such as MySpace and the like, i.e., Twitter (est. 2006), quickly became the veil for online hate. People could hide their hate, racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, ageism, and ableism behind a keyboard and profile, whether that profile was real or fake.

The same thing is happening today. Not much has changed since the early 2000s, except that the current social media platforms are much more technologically advanced and have sophisticated yet questionable algorithms.

Social media racism is inescapable. For example, because these sophisticated algorithms can pick up that I am a women’s basketball fan, I will inevitably scroll past videos containing basketball content. It is often (very often) that I scroll past a post of Black women WNBA or college basketball players being scolded either in the video, image, or in the comments – echoing the sentiments of Don Imus. Words and phrases that I prefer not to repeat. Words that wound. Words that are incautious and destructive.

Do the players see these words? Does their dignity and worth not matter? Are they not worthy of kindness and compassion? As hateful individuals comfortably and inconspicuously hide behind their profiles and keyboards, their words sear like molten lava into the earth, leaving behind irreparable damage. Social media racism, like all forms of racism, is traumatizing. I can only surmise that the players see these posts, videos, images, and comments – and if so, what are the implications? How are the players being protected?

The WNBA recently launched their “No Space for Hate” platform. Will it be enough? Artificial Intelligence may be able to filter out hate online, but what about in-person hate? What about hecklers in arenas allegedly spewing racist hate speech at games such as the game on Saturday, 5.17.25, during the Chicago Sky vs. Fever game in Indiana? Allegedly racial slurs and monkey noises could be heard coming from the crowd. Who will check those individuals and enforce the “No Space for Hate” platform in those instances? 

In all fairness, the racism that can be found on social media and within some basketball arenas is a microcosm of a much larger and deeply rooted systemic and cultural issue. Perhaps time will reveal the impact of the league’s recently launched platform. Nevertheless, racism is embedded within the living fabric of American culture. And as far-fetched as this may sound, the complete eradication of racism is the only proper answer – a task that is not solely up to the WNBA.

The Angel Reese Effect: 

Consequences of Black Confidence

In April 2023, Angel Reese and the LSU Tigers made history by acquiring their first national championship, defeating Caitlin Clark and the Iowa Hawkeyes. It was a game for the ages, and both teams and star players played with heart and grit. It was a spectacle to watch—thrilling and entertaining. Yet, this historic win was overshadowed by the societal and cultural hankering to humble Black women.

In sports, it is no secret that competitiveness and sports banter exist. However, Reese’s gestures, pointing to her ring finger and mimicking John Cena’s “you can’t see me” during the 2023 NCAA championship game, didn’t sit well with many spectators. Since then, Angel Reese has been a target of misogynoir, misogyny, racism, and sexism. Is this the consequence of a Black woman exuding confidence?

Suppose competitiveness and sports banter are the norm. Why were Reese’s gestures seen as unsportsmanlike, disrespectful, and distasteful, but not Clark’s hand gestures during her game against South Carolina in March of 2023? What is the explanation for the disparity in public outrage? Are the standards different for Black women in sports? If so, why? Is it only okay for non-black women to be competitive and engage in sports banter? Is it preferred for Black women like Angel Reese to just “shut up and dribble”? If you think she should be humbler, why? Reese is confident and college educated with numerous accolades on and off the court, she is a philanthropist, and a networking genius – why is that not something to celebrate? Reese’s confidence is inspiring to some, and to others, it appears to be threatening. If you’re threatened, why? I do not pose these questions for frivolous answers, but somewhat rhetorically, with hopes that the reader will reflect and engage with their consciousness.

Furthermore, Reese is not the only victim of misogynoir, misogyny, racism, and sexism. If Black women basketball players play with confidence, engage in sports banter, or are passionate about the game, they are called “angry”, “cocky”, “unlikable” “emotional (derogatorily)”, “ghetto”, “thug”, and even compared to animals. Their physical appearances and the way they dress are attacked. They are demonized, villainized, and masculinized. They are stripped of their humanity, dignity, and worth on social media and the like, which fuels and perpetuates hate. I often scroll and see humans sans humanity – merely words that wound, incautious, and destructive. Where’s the sportsmanship in that?

Pictured: This image was created by the author of this blog. The image shows screenshots of comments about American Basketball player, Angel Reese, taken from sports related social media posts on Instagram and TikTok.  

-Andrea Nicole