From time to time, RuNet Echo translates into English some of the Russian media’s best work about Internet-related issues. Earlier this week, Nina Nazarova, a reporter at the Russian magazine Afisha, published a small collection of fascinating interviews with four public figures who have played major roles online and in the news in Russia. Each of these people has faced intense harassment on the Internet and in ordinary life, and their stories serve as revealing accounts of what it’s like to be prominent and hated on the RuNet today. Image edited by Kevin Rothrock. There are some jobs in Russia that invite a daily stream of hate mail and even threats. Nina Nazarova at Afisha recently spoke to four individuals who have encountered particularly aggressive harassment—an LGBT-rights activist, a former US ambassador to Russia, a lawyer, and a journalist—and asked them what it’s like to live and work in an atmosphere of hatred. Photo: Facebook I got the idea to create the photo album “Beautiful People and What They Say About Me” [a collection of threats Klimova has received online] a long time ago. I would look at the photos of the people who write me these terrible things, and marvel at the disparity between their appearance and the content of their threats. Beautiful people: they’ve got children, they’re smiling—and then they write me this. I made the album so others could enjoy the contrast. And judging by readers’ comments, they've enjoyed them indeed. People saw exactly what I wanted to show them. I can’t remember the first time someone wrote to insult me. It was probably in early 2013, when I was writing for [the news agency] Rosbalt about different issues. Readers provided feedback either in comments on the article itself, or they found me on social networks and told me there. The responses were all over the place: ranging from “smart girl” to “dumb whore.” I remember feeling hurt and confused. Later, though, after I started heading Children-404, I had to get used to it. If you’re at all a public person, any passerby might up and spit on you. You’ve just got to live with it, and gradually it becomes easier. After hearing the same words over and over for several years, they lose their meaning. Right now, I’m “attacked” 1-3 times a day. Sometimes it comes in bursts—mostly when someone famous writes something nasty about you, or when a big organization launches an attack on you. This happened to me with [conservative Russian actor] Ivan Okhlobystin and the Anti-Maidan movement, which has half a million subscribers. The haters don’t faze me—they’re too predictable. For instance, they often write that I’m hideous and no man will ever want me. How upset could this possibly make me, given that I live with the woman I love and have no interest in men? They can always swear at me, but without a certain passion, even this becomes boring to read. I’ve been attacked by “my own people,” too. Once, a certain gay person told me that he used to live like everybody else, “without sticking out.” He’d go to gay clubs and he never asked for anything more. But then, because of folks like me (that is, the activists), the state decided to come after LGBT people. He said all kinds of terrible things to me. It hurt. Though it’s my guess that most people think like this—that gays owe all their problems to the activists. A lesbian once approached me and claimed that the authorities approved the “anti-gay” law because of my project Children-404, saying it used to be okay before, but now she can’t even hold her girlfriend’s hand while walking down the street—and she blames me for this. I didn’t try to explain that I started my group precisely as a response to the threat of this law coming to be. A year ago, a gay-rights activist asked me to help persuade youths to take part in the May Day parade, carrying rainbow flags. I refused, saying (1) I wasn’t sure I could ensure their safety, and (2) that I didn’t think we could call on children to take to the streets. The activist responded sarcastically, “Now there’s a winning strategy!” and our conversation ended there. Thirty minutes later, he denounced me publicly, and then he started to write to my friends, telling them what a hysterical asshole I am. This was really hard for me. I remember that I even cried. But now—now it makes no difference to me. I’ve simply understood that there are no LGBT people who are “mine”—that only exists among those who share your views. Does my life resemble the life of Children-404? No. For me, things are simpler. I’m an adult. I’m independent. I can block someone who offends me [online] and forget about him. But the parents who reject you, and the classmates who bully you—you can’t block these people.