This is how transphobia and anti-Blackness often operate in tech spaces not through explicit slurs, but through “moderation.” Through vague policy language. Through silence. Through decisions made without transparency, explanation, or accountability.

If Bluesky truly wants to be different, it can’t just say it supports marginalized users. It has to prove it through consistent, transparent moderation that does not punish Black trans people for being visible, vocal, or unapologetically present.

Bluesky Is Failing Black Trans People Bluesky likes to brand itself as the “better” social platform the kinder, safer alternative to places that openly tolerate hate. But that image falls apart the moment you look at how the platform treats Black trans people in practice.

Bluesky has already faced criticism for disproportionately suspending trans users while failing to adequately address harassment directed at them. When those users are also Black, the harm compounds.

Bluesky Is Failing Black Trans People Bluesky likes to brand itself as the “better” social platform the kinder, safer alternative to places that openly tolerate hate. But that image falls apart the moment you look at how the platform treats Black trans people in practice.

Bluesky Is Failing Black Trans People Bluesky likes to brand itself as the “better” social platform the kinder, safer alternative to places that openly tolerate hate. But that image falls apart the moment you look at how the platform treats Black trans people in practice.

The result is always the same marginalized people are removed, while those who are merely uncomfortable remain protected.

Bluesky Is Failing Black Trans People Bluesky likes to brand itself as the “better” social platform the kinder, safer alternative to places that openly tolerate hate. But that image falls apart the moment you look at how the platform treats Black trans people in practice.

The result is always the same marginalized people are removed, while those who are merely uncomfortable remain protected.

If Bluesky truly wants to be different, it can’t just say it supports marginalized users. It has to prove it through consistent, transparent moderation that does not punish Black trans people for being visible, vocal, or unapologetically present.

This is how transphobia and anti-Blackness often operate in tech spaces not through explicit slurs, but through “moderation.” Through vague policy language. Through silence. Through decisions made without transparency, explanation, or accountability.

A shelter account exists to support people who are already at risk. Suspending that kind of account doesn’t just silence speech it disrupts access to resources, safety, and care. When platforms make those decisions casually or opaquely, they are choosing optics over lives.

The result is always the same marginalized people are removed, while those who are merely uncomfortable remain protected.

This is how transphobia and anti-Blackness often operate in tech spaces not through explicit slurs, but through “moderation.” Through vague policy language. Through silence. Through decisions made without transparency, explanation, or accountability.

A shelter account exists to support people who are already at risk. Suspending that kind of account doesn’t just silence speech it disrupts access to resources, safety, and care. When platforms make those decisions casually or opaquely, they are choosing optics over lives.

A shelter account exists to support people who are already at risk. Suspending that kind of account doesn’t just silence speech it disrupts access to resources, safety, and care. When platforms make those decisions casually or opaquely, they are choosing optics over lives.

Because a platform that feels “safe” only when Black trans people are quiet or gone is not safe at all.

Bluesky Is Failing Black Trans People Bluesky likes to brand itself as the “better” social platform the kinder, safer alternative to places that openly tolerate hate. But that image falls apart the moment you look at how the platform treats Black trans people in practice.

Bluesky has already faced criticism for disproportionately suspending trans users while failing to adequately address harassment directed at them. When those users are also Black, the harm compounds.

The result is always the same marginalized people are removed, while those who are merely uncomfortable remain protected.

Because a platform that feels “safe” only when Black trans people are quiet or gone is not safe at all.

Bluesky has already faced criticism for disproportionately suspending trans users while failing to adequately address harassment directed at them. When those users are also Black, the harm compounds.

Because a platform that feels “safe” only when Black trans people are quiet or gone is not safe at all.

The result is always the same marginalized people are removed, while those who are merely uncomfortable remain protected.

Because a platform that feels “safe” only when Black trans people are quiet or gone is not safe at all.

The result is always the same marginalized people are removed, while those who are merely uncomfortable remain protected.

A shelter account exists to support people who are already at risk. Suspending that kind of account doesn’t just silence speech it disrupts access to resources, safety, and care. When platforms make those decisions casually or opaquely, they are choosing optics over lives.

Black trans people are expected to shrink, soften, and sanitize their realities so they don’t disturb a platform that claims to value community.

This is how transphobia and anti-Blackness often operate in tech spaces not through explicit slurs, but through “moderation.” Through vague policy language. Through silence. Through decisions made without transparency, explanation, or accountability.

Black trans people are expected to shrink, soften, and sanitize their realities so they don’t disturb a platform that claims to value community.

Bluesky Is Failing Black Trans People Bluesky likes to brand itself as the “better” social platform the kinder, safer alternative to places that openly tolerate hate. But that image falls apart the moment you look at how the platform treats Black trans people in practice.

Because a platform that feels “safe” only when Black trans people are quiet or gone is not safe at all.

This is how transphobia and anti-Blackness often operate in tech spaces not through explicit slurs, but through “moderation.” Through vague policy language. Through silence. Through decisions made without transparency, explanation, or accountability.

Because a platform that feels “safe” only when Black trans people are quiet or gone is not safe at all.

If Bluesky truly wants to be different, it can’t just say it supports marginalized users. It has to prove it through consistent, transparent moderation that does not punish Black trans people for being visible, vocal, or unapologetically present.

Bluesky Is Failing Black Trans People Bluesky likes to brand itself as the “better” social platform the kinder, safer alternative to places that openly tolerate hate. But that image falls apart the moment you look at how the platform treats Black trans people in practice.

The result is always the same marginalized people are removed, while those who are merely uncomfortable remain protected.

Bluesky has already faced criticism for disproportionately suspending trans users while failing to adequately address harassment directed at them. When those users are also Black, the harm compounds.

If Bluesky truly wants to be different, it can’t just say it supports marginalized users. It has to prove it through consistent, transparent moderation that does not punish Black trans people for being visible, vocal, or unapologetically present.

If Bluesky truly wants to be different, it can’t just say it supports marginalized users. It has to prove it through consistent, transparent moderation that does not punish Black trans people for being visible, vocal, or unapologetically present.

This is how transphobia and anti-Blackness often operate in tech spaces not through explicit slurs, but through “moderation.” Through vague policy language. Through silence. Through decisions made without transparency, explanation, or accountability.

A shelter account exists to support people who are already at risk. Suspending that kind of account doesn’t just silence speech it disrupts access to resources, safety, and care. When platforms make those decisions casually or opaquely, they are choosing optics over lives.

A shelter account exists to support people who are already at risk. Suspending that kind of account doesn’t just silence speech it disrupts access to resources, safety, and care. When platforms make those decisions casually or opaquely, they are choosing optics over lives.

This is how transphobia and anti-Blackness often operate in tech spaces not through explicit slurs, but through “moderation.” Through vague policy language. Through silence. Through decisions made without transparency, explanation, or accountability.

Bluesky has already faced criticism for disproportionately suspending trans users while failing to adequately address harassment directed at them. When those users are also Black, the harm compounds.

Bluesky Is Failing Black Trans People Bluesky likes to brand itself as the “better” social platform the kinder, safer alternative to places that openly tolerate hate. But that image falls apart the moment you look at how the platform treats Black trans people in practice.

This is how transphobia and anti-Blackness often operate in tech spaces not through explicit slurs, but through “moderation.” Through vague policy language. Through silence. Through decisions made without transparency, explanation, or accountability.

A shelter account exists to support people who are already at risk. Suspending that kind of account doesn’t just silence speech it disrupts access to resources, safety, and care. When platforms make those decisions casually or opaquely, they are choosing optics over lives.

This is how transphobia and anti-Blackness often operate in tech spaces not through explicit slurs, but through “moderation.” Through vague policy language. Through silence. Through decisions made without transparency, explanation, or accountability.

Bluesky Is Failing Black Trans People Bluesky likes to brand itself as the “better” social platform the kinder, safer alternative to places that openly tolerate hate. But that image falls apart the moment you look at how the platform treats Black trans people in practice.