You Might Not Be An Ally For Everyone, And That’s OK

I’ve heard so many different quotes from Dr. Brene Brown, Ta-Nehisi Coates, and Dr. Ibram X. Kendi. They all have had fantastic ideas and informational sources for how to be anti-racist and better allies. I have attended multiple meetings on allyship in the workplace and participated in workshops where we learn about other cultures. Do you know the thing that I have learned the most about?

That most people assume because they are nice, that they are good allies.

Just because you say you’re an ally, doesn’t mean you’re my advocate.

We talk about the importance of “doing the work” and doing your own learning. And I have noticed that most people who consider themselves allies, often will quote that word for word, but then assume they have automatically earned my trust without demonstrating the action in those words.

I want to make it known that you can do the work continuously and still may not necessarily be every person's ally. A lot of this information is generalized so that everyone can learn, but it’s important to remember these issues we are fighting are deeply personal. That means trust has to be built, gifted, and nourished in every relationship. If it helps, think of it as a way that we make individual enrichment plans for each of our animals we care for. I think the same care and thought that you would put into developing proper enrichment for each animal, is the same care and thought that should be put into developing trust. It’s a complex process that’s ever-changing, but it’s worth the work.

Most people who know me, know that I am a direct person. I don’t enjoy mind games, and I would much rather have a conversation that is like ripping a bandaid off, rather than tip-toeing on eggshells and never getting to the point. But that doesn’t mean I owe anyone my opinions immediately. Giving me the opportunity to choose to engage or not will get a lot more traction in gaining my trust. If I don’t want to engage, try not to take that personally, maybe I’m not in a great headspace, or maybe you aren’t quite somebody I fully trust for those vulnerable conversations yet.

And that’s okay.

You could be doing a great job of learning and being willing to be vulnerable. Just because one person hasn’t trusted you to cross that particular threshold, doesn’t mean you should give up. Part of growing and learning in this process is having a bit of resilience. An important part of growing that resilience is also growing grace for yourself and others. This process of allyship is a journey, it’s learning to forgive yourself for mistakes and actively holding yourself accountable to do better as you move on. I imagine this can be difficult if you feel you’re trying your best and maybe risking embarrassment as you learn. While it may be bumbling and frustrating, that’s a vital part of growth.

If you are already learning, you should be familiar with the resilience your coworkers, friends, family members, or just fellow humans of color are probably already forced to maintain every day. Part of allyship is vulnerability, self-awareness, and being real with yourself. Consider that maybe the people around you need a community, not just an ally. Nobody can survive this life alone; not in a healthy way. The best ally is a trusted friend in that community. Friendship is often complicated and messy, and being in a community is no different.

For those of you who want to act as allies, that’s wonderful, keep going. Keep learning and being willing to be uncomfortable. I want you also to be open to understanding not everyone will choose you as their personal ally. But for the few that do, you’ve made a world of difference. Dig deep into that community, be intentional, and continue the work.

I know I went into a lot of different subjects with allyship, and of course, everyone has different perspectives. But if you’d indulge me for a bit longer, I will give you a look into what I would personally appreciate from an ally. In my time working around folks who consider themselves allies, I’ve noticed a lot of people talk the right talk. When people begin to gain my trust is when they tell me to speak my truth, brace for it, and continue the discourse. They are active listeners, asking questions even if they are uncomfortable, but then they take it a step further. They check in with me consistently, allow me space when I ask, communicate their intentions clearly, and hold others accountable, boldly.

I can’t tell you how many times I feel the world on my shoulders in many of the spaces that I boldly enter. I can’t tell you how comforting it is to have someone on my team who will just as boldly hold others and themselves accountable for their actions. I don’t need any more folks to listen, nod, and feel absolutely no need to continue the discourse. What I like in an ally is someone who surprises me. I expect most people to do the bare minimum of listening to Brene Brown, perhaps checking the box on going to a diversity meeting. The people who surprise me are those who ask for my truth, believe me, and show they have thought more about what my story has revealed to them.

I’ll be real with you. I’m not interested in gaining a long list of 'allies' whose primary goal is to not appear racist through their wealth of knowledge. My focus is on gaining my own personal and reciprocal community of champions for my welfare. It takes a village to be a human, and I need my village now more than ever. I need people around me who see me for me, not just a Black woman in this industry who writes insightful blogs. I need people to understand I’m tired of fighting the same fights as my parents' and grandparents' generations and believe me when I say that. I need people to understand that the dream of being treated equally - systemically - remains unfulfilled, and that’s exhausting for us marginalized folks. An important note a mentor of mine reminded me of is that marginalized folks often have the burden of living double lives. By that, I mean many minorities have to understand the ‘standard’ by which this world operates, and how far our experience is marginalized from that standard.

When I first went into this field I hadn’t realized how much my experience would differ from the expected standard. I can’t speak for everyone but, being constantly reminded of how I have to approach everyday situations differently from the majority of my coworkers, has exhausted me. I learned the best way to survive is to build a community around me that acknowledges I will often be overwhelmed with those thoughts. But I also need a community that is willing to trudge through with me and remind me why advocacy for diversity is worth fighting for. Having a community of champions that will see all of me, not always expect me to be the strong Black woman that I am, but allow me to rest in sadness, and remind me that I am more than being sad, and I am more than being strong. I want my village to remind me that I am also silly, joyful, and still growing. My village, community, champions, or whatever name of supporters I have should be a small force of people who sit with me in my despair and remind me of my joy.

Someone who I may invite into my personal group of champions will be someone who is also willing to be bold in holding themselves accountable, humble enough to listen to my life experience, and lastly, be willing to believe my life experience. I’m willing to grow with others if I sense others may be willing to do the same. For me, having little moments with folks willing to trudge in the mud a bit and work through complicated feelings gives me hope. They make the world just a little less lonely and just a bit more exciting. It means I’m not alone in my experience and that progress is in fact happening in individuals even if it’s not open on a widespread scale. Sometimes just a little hope from a champion in my corner gives me the courage to keep pressing, to keep speaking when I’m tempted to make myself smaller. If I didn’t have my own people to be my champions of courage, I would have never considered starting a blog to amplify my own and other perspectives in this field.

Hopefully, the little pieces of me that I put in these blogs help to encourage you. I’m hoping these provoke thought and conversation in your own circles. I welcome any of you to join the MIAZS Slack page and further discuss with other members and me! Not part of our Slack page yet? You can check out our membership options in the header at the top of the page.

I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Stay Stunning,

Shannon

Shannon Farmer is the MIAZS Communications Outreach Coordinator