Some Thoughts On Being An Ally

Shortly after attending WAM!, I noticed a comment on Adele’s website, in which Jill wrote the following:

“Calling me or thinking of myself as a “white feminist class-privileged woman” doesn’t make me want to come hang out and learn about others’ strife. But appealing to my humanity, period, does.”

Now, Jill wrote a lot in her comment, and a lot more in following comments. But that particular sentiment stood out to me, because it reminded me a lot of how I felt when I first began really working to be an ally.

For as long as I can remember, I considered myself “liberal,” “open-minded,” “anti-racist,” etc, etc, etc. All the catch phrases and labels that many straight upper middle class folk cling to. And I don’t want to discount the fact that some people from my background really embrace all that they claim to. But what I take issue with is the fact that most people, myself included, often shout out these labels and beliefs like that’s all that needs to be done. And like saying something is wrong is enough.

But it’s not.

As I commented at Adele’s, my junior year of high school, I was sent to a “peer leadership conference.” Well, that’s what my school thought they were sending me to. I braced myself for a weekend of relatively annoying, happy, getting to know you games with a bunch of prep school kids. I knew that the conference was being put on by the National Association of Independent Schools. I went to a private school, but it was more like a high priced hippie commune (as in, we all held hands and picked up garbage once before a school festival and we called our teachers by their first names) than it was like a prep school (try though the admissions office did to change this).

So, I got to Nashville, Tennessee with my advisor and another student. I have little recollection of getting settled but I do know exactly how I felt when I walked into the first all student session.

I was in a room with hundreds of high school students, and I could have quickly counted all the other white people in the room. The “peer leadership conference” was the Student Diversity Leadership Conference. I had never been anywhere where I was in the minority and I could feel my defenses building.

We were assigned to home groups of about eleven people. There was one other white girl in my group, who considered herself African American because she had briefly lived in South Africa. Honestly, I thought she was crazy, but I also kept thinking “why do I need this? I’m not racist,” and my defenses were up.

Over the course of the weekend, I heard so much about institutional racism, white privilege, prejudice, racism, classicism, heterosexism, ableism, that my head was spinning. My defenses got crushed the more I listened. And I eventually realized that saying that I was against prejudice was different than recognizing how I benefit from preferential treatment and how that does shape my world view.

This conference was about eight years ago, and I’m still learning, and I still need to check myself from time to time. The biggest hurdle I’ve faced is learning to recognize that everything is not about me. It’s not anyone elses’ job to show me the way and teach me about racism, and if anyone takes the time to correct or share with me, I am grateful because that’s not something I should feel entitled to.

I’ve had to learn to listen, and to think, and to try my damnedest to think before I speak. And to think after I speak as well. It’s not easy, but that’s life. I can’t know what I know and see what I see and hear what I hear and not recognize that there’s a lot of hate in the world, and a lot of people who might not consider what they do or say discriminatory or hateful, but it is. I’ve come to feel that when I am in the position to create change, if I ignore that, I’m helping maintain the status quo. Again, it’s not easy. Telling co-workers, family members, friends or strangers that something they’ve said or done is not okay, that it’s offensive, and telling them why is work and it can damage relationships, but I’m finally coming to understand that if people prefer to be hurtful, I don’t really want to maintain relationships with them. And even in my ability to surround myself with as consistently many like-minded folk as possible, I know I am lucky. And that, too, is a privilege.