On Being an Ally
“There Comes A Time When Silence is Betrayal” ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.
As I sit here beside this seemingly endless world of tragedies, blatant acts of hatred and systemic racism, that Black Indigenous People of Color (BIPOC) are facing worldwide, my heart sinks. The events in the last few months have made it impossible for me to stay silent any longer. To watch fellow humans be denied the same rights, assumptions, and privileges that I have experienced without a second thought, simply because of the color of their skin is simply gut-wrenching.
The vivid images streaming on the television, of acts of brutality upon my fellow humans is devastating beyond words. It is a trauma that isn’t directly mine, but has slowly infiltrated into my body and echo in my mind. I feel helpless at times and see myself as an Ally but, like others, the resonating voices asking for justice slowly fade into the air as another act of brutality follows in the footsteps of the last.
Unlocking Allyship
I have found myself wondering what drives people’s (in)actions, what drives their beliefs, and how (or even if) they may be reached. For me, at the most basic, fundamental level, it’s a matter of perspective. If we can get others to imagine what it would be like if any of these events and injustices were to happen to them and their loved ones, would it change their thinking? How would they feel? What resources would they throw at the fight? How do we build more empathy for people “who aren’t like us”? And how can I contribute to building that space, that understanding, through sharing resources and posts that help engender such empathy and understanding. I have always believed in justice and fairness. Experiences of inequity and maltreatment of an individual or marginalized group has always struck a nerve with me.
I ask myself how I can be a voice, and it has become clear that allyship is non-negotiable. So what does it mean to be an Ally? Well, The Merriam-Webster’s defines an ally as “one that is associated with another as a helper; a person or group that provides assistance and support in an ongoing effort, activity, or struggle” (“Ally,” n.d.). The term ally is “often now used specifically of a person who is not a member of a marginalized or mistreated group but who expresses or gives support to that group”(“Ally,” n.d.).
This definition is a good place to start, but I think being an ally is so much more than this. In my own words, being a true ally means lifting others up, it requires self-awareness, compassion and a delicate balance between being supportive, and humble -- without considering your own benefit, and sometimes it means intentionally getting out of the way, so that everyone has an equal seat at the table. It is not about how you are perceived or how you feel for doing the right thing. Being an ally also requires you to take a good hard look at the privilege you have benefited from and taken for granted, so you can begin to understand not only where the inequities lie, but just how vast and pervasive they truly are in our society.
I am a white, female, school psychologist, and I have been asked to share my experience as an ally by a person of color (POC), which is the only reason I feel even marginally comfortable talking about what this particular word means to me. Being an ally is NOT ABOUT ME. I am not seeking recognition for the small efforts I have made, but rather wish to share some of the actions that can be taken to become a better ally and to explore the emotional experience of allyship.
The Fear of Mis-Stepping
The fear of mis-stepping, often to the point of avoidance of action to prevent offense, is my personal battleground. With any fear, approaching it head on and with sincerity and humility is the way to get through this hurdle.
Being an ally required me to be vulnerable, willing to make mistakes, own them, learn from them, receive constructive feedback, continuing to learn, to grow, and yes, to be corrected, and then do better next time. This is how I’ve learned to become a better-informed ally and leaning into hard conversations and not sitting in the back row where it’s safe and protected.
My allyship started with listening to and holding space for the pain my Black and Brown colleagues were experiencing. My company held forums for our BIOPIC affinity group to share and process their grief in the wake of George Floyd’s death. Already a member on the list, I was invited to these sessions, but fought very hard with myself about whether I belonged or not. I did not want to intrude on anyone’s pain, but ultimately decided that listening and learning more about my colleagues’ life experiences would be a way forward to being a better ally…and it was.
I learned about the painful daily experiences and fear many of my Black and Brown colleagues, and their families, face. Everyone discussed having “the talk” with their children, and how “the talk” had gone for them when they were young. Not the “birds and the bees” talk, no. The talk to young children the realities of racism; how to act within their communities; how to engage (or not) with law enforcement so they remain safe…alive. Countless stories of frightening traffic stops, childhood car rides in which all necessary meals were packed as they dare not stop until they reached their destination, feeling the emotional blows of racial slurs hurled about in everyday experiences. These were an eye-opening moment - to hear how commonplace and necessary these talks are for Black families. Their shared experiences pointed me towards the hard questions I should be asking not only of myself, but of our country as well.
lifting the veil of silence
Lifting the veil of understanding and educating should not be the burden on the BIOPIC community. I searched for documentaries and movies, articles and podcasts, books and webinars that explain systemic racism was formed and sustained and the forces that continue to nurture it. It also became important to think about what actions a white, female, school psychologist can take in order to help make real and lasting change to the systems, that are clearly failing so many.
I became a force on social media - sharing, informing, and never colluding in silence. Additional allies, many from my friend circles, passed on information and materials they found as well. It has also been interesting to observe who stays silent, or, worse, speaks out in opposition against the Black Lives Matter Movement (BLM).
I would like to think I have always spoken up and advocated in small ways; it’s part of why I became a school psychologist, to support and advocate for those facing adversities. Over the last few months, I have found more of a voice for the racial injustice I have witnessed, and have gotten louder and louder, speaking up for what I deem to be right in this world. I have attended protests, had uncomfortable conversations about privilege, the foundations of systemic racism, and police brutality. I have stumbled over my words and been afraid of the right and wrong things to say. You don’t wake up one day and become the perfect ally or activist.
Being an Ally is a continuous journey, I don’t always feel like an Ally but I’m working on it, maybe that’s the heart of being an ally - wondering what more you can do, by challenging myself and others to keep looking for opportunities to act and speak up; finding better ways to express ourselves; to never really feel complacent, because we have such a long way to go. There is SO MUCH to be said right now, and it must be shouted from the rooftops, until there is enough momentum so that together the BIOPIC community and their amassed allies can change this broken system.
I write this as encouragement to keep going. Continue to grow, educate yourselves, and be vulnerable, and to fight for the equality and justice of a fair system for ALL in this country and beyond.
Continue to be an ally every day in some shape or form. Equality, TRUE Equality, is the future.
Emily Rentz, Ph.D…and ally