Do You Even Ally, Bro?

“The job of a good ally is not to save anybody but rather to help create the conditions under which people can assert and grow their own power.”

— Rinku Sen

We just finished celebrating Pride Month—and a beautiful Pride Week here in Huntsville, AL—but these past few days I have found myself constantly thinking about something I saw recently in regards to being an "ally".

Ally is defined by Webster as "one that is associated with another as a helper," which I feel is essentially what most people think of when using the term. And although I consider myself to be an ally of any/all marginalized groups, this video I came across titled "5 Tips For Being An Ally" by Franchesca Ramsey really opened my eyes and mind to certain aspects of allyship I was overlooking. She perfectly explains "privilege" (what it is and what it isn't), which I have personally done a lot of work on the past few years—fully understanding my own privileges and how that affects my experiences, relationships, and the world around me (and I still have work to do).

But the most crucial piece of the puzzle that I was missing—and I feel many others are missing—is shifting the focus from the noun form to the verbform. By this I mean that it is not enough to call yourself an ally or to not hold bigoted/racist/homophobic/xenophobic/misogynistic ideals, but you—WE—must actively (and continually) fight against these ideals and support those in the marginalized communities who are affected. Simply put, it is more important to DO than to BE.

We need men to fight against and call out misogyny when they see it...we need straight/cis people supporting LGBTQ+ organizations and educating the people around them on issues important to their communities...we need white people to protest when unarmed black men are being gunned down and support people of color who run for leadership positions.

Wearing statement tees, reposting a supportive article, or attending a rally or march is good and important, but your activism and allyship cannot just be performative and superficial. You have to listen to people in these marginalized communities, learn what their issues are, figure out how you can leverage your own privilege to help elevate (but not drown out) their message, and then continue to stay engaged. I recognize that this isn’t a completely original thought or a subject that hasn’t been broached before, but it’s important that we continue to have these conversations and remind ourselves that we can always learn and grow in our activism. As a person of privilege, the conversations can be uncomfortable and hard at times, but they’re vital and necessary. We need to learn how to be more comfortable in the uncomfortable because that is where change truly happens.