Abstract

For Indigenous communities in Australia, social media has become a double-edged platform: a space for visibility, resistance, and cultural reclamation, but also a site of surveillance, misrepresentation, and trauma. This paper explores how Indigenous Australians use platforms like TikTok, Twitter, and Instagram to assert identity, resist colonial narratives, and heal through storytelling. While digital networks foster cultural revival and community, they expose users to ongoing systemic harms, reflecting deeper colonial legacies in online spaces.

Introduction

Across contemporary digital spaces, social media has evolved into a potent instrument that enables Indigenous Australians to counter old colonial narratives and reaffirm their cultural identities in contemporary digital environments. Contemporary battlefields for Indigenous users are platforms like Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram. There, they can subvert portrayals imposed upon them by dominant culture, assert their voices, and, in the process, challenge the misrepresentations of them in mainstream media. This digital resistance is firmly anchored in the idea of shared recognition, which is the awareness, not just in one community but in many, of the constant, never-stopping colonial oppression and the awareness of our shared need to collectively express and make visible the pushback against that oppression (Carlson et al., 2017). 

Hashtag Activism and Visibility — #IndigenousDads

#IndigenousDads exemplifies this resistance. It is a response to a widely publicised cartoon by The Australian that perpetuates racist stereotypes about Aboriginal fathers. Images and stories of Aboriginal fatherhood and kinship now flood social media. They’re meant to counter the racist nonsense served up in that cartoon. The digital movement was not just a reply to racism but also a way to confirm and assert Indigenous cultures. According to (Carlson et al., 2017), it is not enough for communities of colour just to survive the trauma of racism; they must also fight back with a brand of liberated life that flips the negative narrative around. These visibility acts are not just reactions; they are generative and create a digital counter-public that challenges colonial narratives from inside the digital realm. 

Identity and Digital Self-Determination

Carlson and Kennedy (2021) depict that “identifying as Indigenous online was not always a straightforward matter”(p.8). Many people keep their identities hidden out of fear of what might happen if they disclose it. One participant shared this perspective: “It is sometimes safer to not identify as Aboriginal due to discrimination/prejudices” (p. 9). Another emphasised the negative reaction that comes from advocacy: “If anyone identifies as Aboriginal and stands up for pretty much anything Aboriginal, they can get slammed by lots of bigots and people who hate anything Aboriginal” (p. 9). Despite this, many Aboriginal users continue to assert their identity as a digital statement of sovereignty and share their languages, cultures, and lived experiences. 

Diasporic Digital Communities and Cultural Continuity

Scholars like Titifanue et al. (2018) demonstrate how this practice extends beyond the confines of Australia, with Pacific Islander diasporas also using digital platforms to mediate activist work. “This article examines how Rotumans have innovatively used social media to maintain familial connections and revive culture…” (p. 33). This resonates with Indigenous Australians, who use these platforms to maintain a semblance of cultural continuity and push back against assimilation. 

These illustrative cases show that, for Indigenous populations, social media is much more than a vehicle for daily correspondence. It serves as a platform from which to stage resistance, effect healing, and make a profound cultural comeback. The sharing of real, lived experiences and the calls to culture that Indigenous users share through social media allow them to subvert real-time colonial representations. Indigenous digital users hold agency and act creatively within the corporate, predominantly white platforms where they find themselves. They are reworking the digital landscape into one that better reflects their interests, concerns, and communities. 

Social Media as a Platform for Health and Kinship

In Indigenous communities, health advocacy and shared collective care have advanced to an exceptional degree, and social media has played an essential role in this. The platforms of online social media have become much more accessible, low-cost tools for advertising and promoting not just mental health but also suicide prevention and the kinds of health information directly serving the needs of the community. This is particularly powerful for communities that have historically suffered from the failed health systems of mainstream medicine. 

Hefler et al. (2019) found that health promotion methods based on social media “may be more likely to generate greater traction” (p. 714) when they leverage the online social capital of supportive digital spaces. They argue that Facebook and YouTube are particularly effective tools for this kind of outreach because they allow resources to be shared in formats (visual, auditory, etc.) that align with Indigenous communication preferences. The researchers also found that health organisations themselves are using these tools to promote positive health behaviours, sometimes in Aboriginal languages and always with a kind of community representation that helps build trust.

Suicide Prevention and Digital Kinship

This online trust-building becomes especially critical in mental health support. Brown et al. (2020) note that “training should prepare gatekeepers for multifaceted suicide prevention roles, including the identification and management of at-risk Indigenous persons, the provision of psychoeducation and ongoing support…” (p. 2). These findings point to the importance of “digital kinship” a sense of community care enacted through online interactions, particularly when physical remoteness or cultural isolation might otherwise prevent access to services. 

Digital advocacy campaigns also serve as channels for emotional solidarity. Wood et al. (2015) explore the power of digital storytelling in remote Aboriginal communities, showing how online outsider witness processes allow individuals to reflect on their experiences in safe, culturally sensitive ways. “Nobody ever asked us before, nobody listened… this is the first time people have come to listen and record their voices and struggles” (p. 51). They conclude, “It is significant when people who are marginalised are able to re-author their lives and have their voices heard, witnessed, and responded to” (p. 51).

These studies collectively illustrate how social media is being taken up by Indigenous Australians not just for resistance, but also for survival and well-being. Whether it’s suicide prevention apps, health information posts, or story-shaming platforms, the goal remains the same: to build stronger, more connected communities in the face of ongoing marginalisation. Solidarity in this space is culturally informed and emotionally significant, even lifesaving in some instances. 

Indigenous empowerment on social media stems from digital storytelling. It is the individuals who compose these narratives who are at the centre of asserting what it means to live as an Indigenous person today. Many perform this simple act of existence through the sharing of lived experience and identity on spaces like TikTok and Twitter and in platforms like IndigenousX to contribute toward the making of collective memory. They resist historical erasure and provide fresh frameworks for comprehending the experiences of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples in current-day Australia. 

Tafler (2019) explores this idea through performative storytelling, much like our ancestors did, using the devices available to them to tell us who they are and who we are. Self-representation is an act of creativity. However, it is also an act of politics. By asserting who they are and how they wish to be seen, Indigenous peoples are, in effect, asserting their right to exist within and outside colonially defined boundaries. These acts of cultural resurgence are not confined to a specific medium. 

Storytelling as Healing, Protest, and Power

They have expressed through a variety of forms: A TikTok video celebrating traditional dance. An Instagram post rendered in a language. A tweet documenting the protest. These are some of the forms of storytelling that we draw on to make our way in the world. 

This is reinforced by Carlson et al. (2017), who demonstrate that online collective storytelling can transform trauma into resistance. The emotionally charged content we share, such as footage from the Don Dale detention centre or the emergence of #IndigenousDads, fosters shared recognition and tightens the bonds of political solidarity. These stories are not individual posts but part of a larger narrative thread of survival, resistance, and pride. They comprise a powerful collective statement. 

Wood et al. (2015) give an even clearer picture of the psychological and social benefits of storytelling. They show that digital environments can be platforms for not just individual but also communal reflection, healing, and empowerment. Storytelling in these spaces serves not only to connect the participants but also to create a profound sense of shared identity. This mirrors what Carlson and Kennedy (2021) depict as the dual nature of social media: a site of exposure and a stage for self-determined storytelling. 

Reclaiming the Narrative Through Digital Storytelling

Ultimately, digital storytelling is a potent counter to the media’s stereotypical depiction of Indigenous Australians. By controlling the narrative, Indigenous users alter the hierarchy of power, ensuring their identities are framed with the reverence, richness, and subtlety necessary for the portrayal of complex individuals. Those acts of telling are not just a preservation of culture; they’re also a demonstration of who has the right to tell the story. 

The Risks of Digital Visibility and Exposure

Although social media has offered opportunities for overcoming political and sociocultural adversity, it has also magnified the perils of being visible for Indigenous peoples. This kind of visibility in a space that remains mostly unregulated, if not hostile, makes users vulnerable to directed hate, misrepresentation, and monitoring. According to Carlson and Kennedy (2021), identifying as Indigenous in online spaces can lead to experiences of racist backlash, policing from platforms themselves, and simple misinterpretation. Platforms can also censor Indigenous people, or they can let through an unfiltered torrent of bad behaviour that is harmful to the people being targeted. The trauma that can result from these experiences is seen by the authors as another layer of intergenerational pain. 

Collective Pain and Affective Solidarity

Carlson et al. (2017) describe how racist public events, like the Don Dale revelations and the Bill Leak cartoon, result in collective trauma, otherwise known as ‘retraumatization’, for Indigenous Australians. This “shared recognition” of ongoing colonial violence experienced by certain groups of people becomes a two-sided issue, a call for solidarity. But it also serves as a reminder of persistent marginalisation. The theory of ‘affective economies’ put forth by Ahmed (2004) and used by the authors helps explain how pain circulates online and shapes both individual identity and collective response. Grief, anger, and pride are not just felt as emotions; they are harnessed and used to take action. 

Sovereignty and Identity in Digital Spaces

Despite this, Indigenous users maintain their online presence. Although risks exist, they are outweighed by the advantages that come with connectivity, visibility, and cultural validation. Indigenous Australians counter hostile online environments with narratives of their own. They have many tools for doing so collective hashtags, community-run media accounts, and even the old-fashioned way of simply telling a story.

Indigenous Australians aren’t just connecting and communicating through social media, they’re using it to reclaim their presence in a digital world shaped by the legacies of colonialism. Of course, these platforms come with risks, including the possibility of heightened surveillance and even digital trauma for already vulnerable users. But most Indigenous nations are seizing the moment to build health and visibility, sovereignty, identity, and justice in their communities. What might this signal for the future of (Digital) Indigenous Australia? I suggest in this article that Indigenous Australians have more than just a foot in this (surveillance) space, they’re working towards a (health, visibility, identity, and justice) community that is significant in both physical and virtual realms.

Indigenous Australians are exploiting social media not only to associate and converse but also to reclaim, resist, and reimagine their digital presence in a world shaped by colonial legacies. Although these platforms pose some risks, such as enabling racialised surveillance and inducing digital trauma, they also hold transformative potential. Indigenous users are creating their own spaces of visibility, support, and empowerment, from health advocacy to digital storytelling. These acts are more than online participation; they reflect the ongoing struggles for sovereignty, identity, and justice that Indigenous peoples are engaged in, both in the physical and virtual worlds. Indigenous engagement online will continue to define the digital and online resistance and resurgence we see from these communities as the digital space evolves.

References

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Carlson, B., Jones, L. V., Harris, M., Quezada, N., University at Albany, State University New York, Frazer, R., Carlson, B., & Macquarie University. (2017). Trauma, shared recognition and indigenous resistance on social media. In Australasian Journal of Information Systems: Vol. Vol 21.

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Tafler, D. I. & Media and Communication, Muhlenberg College, Allentown, PA 18104-5586, USA; davidtafler@muhlenberg.edu. (2019). Drawing Spirits in the Sand: Performative Storytelling in the Digital Age. In Religions (Vol. 492) [Journal-article]. https://doi.org/10.3390/rel10090492

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