EMERGENCY PODS: The Hate Mail, The Death Threats, And The Inappropriate Sexual Comments That I Have Received Aren’t Just Disturbing, They’re Unacceptable Regardless Of…
In the modern era of digital media, where podcasts have become a refuge for raw truth, bold conversations, and unapologetic storytelling, being vulnerable and visible comes at a cost. The hate mail, the death threats, and the inappropriate sexual comments that I have received aren’t just disturbing—they are unacceptable, regardless of context, intent, or supposed freedom of expression.
When I launched Emergency Pods, I expected criticism. I expected people to disagree, to push back, to offer counterpoints. That’s what intelligent discourse invites. But I did not expect to fear for my life over an episode. I did not expect that speaking with authenticity would result in someone tracking down my address and sending graphic threats to my inbox. I did not expect that voicing a perspective—especially as a woman, a person of color, and someone from a marginalized community—would give strangers a perceived license to sexualize, objectify, or dehumanize me.
There’s a line between criticism and cruelty. There’s a canyon between feedback and harassment. Unfortunately, too many people seem unwilling—or incapable—of seeing the difference.
It started subtly. An email saying, “Stay in your lane.” A direct message saying, “You’re too loud.” Then it escalated: anonymous accounts calling me racial slurs, podcast reviews with graphic language, people sexualizing my voice and implying that my credibility hinged on my appearance. Then came the threats: “We know where you live.” “You better stop before someone stops you.” “You’re going to get what’s coming.”
These aren’t just internet trolls. These are people who consume media made by real human beings and choose to respond with hate instead of thought, with threats instead of ideas.
I’ve asked myself over and over again: What is it that makes some listeners feel entitled to react this way? Is it the anonymity of the internet? Is it misogyny wrapped in faux concern? Is it racism, transphobia, homophobia, or the deep discomfort some people feel when they hear voices that challenge the status quo?
The answer, I’ve realized, is complex—but it begins with the systemic normalization of hate in public discourse. We’ve been taught—by politics, by media, by the comment sections of nearly every platform—that cruelty is just part of the game. That if you’re public, you’re a target. That if you dare speak, especially about social justice, you should brace yourself for the blowback.
But let me be clear: Emergency Pods is not a space that will be silenced. And I will not accept the premise that violence and harassment are part of the job.
No one should. Not me, not you, not anyone who shares a piece of their story, a spark of their truth, or an ounce of their expertise with the world.
This isn’t about sensitivity. This is about safety. It’s about recognizing that behind every voice you hear through a speaker or a screen, there is a person. A person with a family. A person with mental health. A person who doesn’t deserve to wake up and sift through dozens of messages that range from objectification to outright terror.
We must do better. Listeners, platforms, and fellow creators need to call this behavior out. Tech companies must prioritize the mental health and safety of content creators, not just the engagement metrics. And culturally, we must draw the line: hate speech is not free speech, and threats are not opinions.
To those who’ve written to me with kindness, who’ve supported Emergency Pods, who’ve challenged me respectfully—I see you, and I’m grateful. To those who send darkness into the inboxes of anyone trying to create light, I have only this to say: your hate is loud, but it will never be as enduring as our truth.
We’re still here. We’re still talking. And no matter how many death threats come in, we won’t stop.