When we think about colour blindness from a gender, race and sport perspective, it becomes a bit different. It can have both positive intentions and serious critiques but it all depends on how it’s applied.

Colour blindness refers to the idea of not seeing race. People should be treated equally regardless of their racial or ethnic background.

The intention behind it is to promote fairness, equality and unity. However, there are some criticisms of this idea. It ignores real experiences of racism and systemic inequality; it erases cultural identity and lived histories; and can even cause the avoidance of difficult conversations about privilege and oppression.

When applied to gender, colour blindness, or “gender blindness” refers to treating everyone the same regardless of gender identity or sex. It has the goal of promoting equality and rejecting sexism. However, like colour blindness, it has its critiques. It can overlook structural gender inequalities like pay gaps; it can erase some of the unique barriers faced by women, non-binary or transgender athletes; and it assumes a level field that doesn’t actually exist.

In the article, Misogynoir in women’s sport media: race, nation and diaspora in the representation of Naomi Osaka by Rajack and Joseph, the authors outline several strategies that resist misogynoir.

Misogynoir is the dislike of or ingrained prejudice against black women. This is a unique form of discrimination that black women face between race and gender.

The first strategy is reclaiming narratives. Naomi Osaka shapes her own story through the media and public statements, which counters the mainstream media portrayals that often stereotype or silence her. The second strategy is cultural expression. Naomi is Haitian and Japanese, and she embraces her multicultural identity by asserting pride in her blackness and heritage, and challenging narratives of nationality and belonging. The third strategy is being an advocate for mental health. Naomi openly prioritizes her mental health by taking breaks from media obligations. She resists the expectation that black women must come off as strong, compliant and performative. The last strategy is building a strong community that stands behind you with support and solidarity. Rajack and Joseph highlight how both public support and fan support, especially those from black communities, play a key role in rejecting ideas of misogynoir towards Naomi.

The combination of these strategies pushes back against these harmful norms that society has accepted, and tries to create a space for more respectful representations of Black women in sport.

This is a hard one to answer for a few reasons. One, I can think whatever I want but at the end of the day, I’m not an athlete with a platform where their voice can change the lives of many people. I would like to say yes, that someone in that position should use the voice they have for good. However, the way the media is today, and cancel culture, it is so hard to speak your mind and stick up for what you believe in without someone literally trying to ruin your life. And it’s sad, because a lot of these people have intelligent and powerful things to say with a beautiful message, but there’s always someone around the corner trying to bring them down. If you can manage to say what you want to say, and use your voice for good, WITHOUT putting yourself in a harmful position both mentally and physically, then absolutely, I think yes. But it shouldn’t be an obligation, especially if it isn’t safe to do so.

In the article, the authors call for a shift from neoliberal feminism, which tells women to focus on themselves and their own aspirations, towards feminist storytelling, which centres structural inequalities, collective struggles and intersectionality. The authors argue that mainstream sport and media will often show exceptional female athletes as a symbol of progress, but ignore ongoing systemic barriers. Instead, they advocate for stories that challenge power dynamics and amplify the marginalized voices within sport.