I have tried to write this post so many times, and each time I’ve scrapped it and started over. I can’t seem to find my voice in it. Or maybe, I can’t seem to find its point. Or maybe it’s just not a topic I’m very good at writing about. But whatever it is, it’s frustrating me, because I want to write about other things, but I’m stuck on this. So I’m just going to write as if no one were paying any attention. Inspired by Mary Daly’s death (see what I think is the best handling of that over at Feministe) and all the talk of her transphobia and racism, and in honor of Martin Luther King Day, here are my thoughts on allyship.
I don’t like the concept of “ally” because I think so much of what people think being an ally involves is proving to someone else that you’re a good person, whatever that means. And that is so loaded with self-consciousness, with competition and one-up-man-ship, even vanity. I would much, much rather be met by a humble “um, sorry if this sounds stupid, but can you tell me what queer means? I thought it was a bad word” than by someone, upon hearing I’m queer, going on about how they have gay friends and how much the prop 8 stuff sucks and they really think everyone ought to be able to get married and other such drivel. This happens a lot, and those people are just … trying too hard. It’s like if I started spouting my opinions on affirmative action every time I met a person of color. Awkward, right? And de-humanizing. It reduces whomever the person is to whatever identity you’re trying to prove yourself an ally to.
I’m not just queer, you’re not just Chinese American, she’s not just Jewish, ze’s not just genderqueer. [Fuck spell check for not knowing the word genderqueer.] The let-me-prove-to-you-that-I’m-your-ally shtick is really just a way of allowing yourself to allay your own guilt and prioritize your own need to be recognized as good. It’s not really listening to what the needs, wants, and preferences are of the person at hand.
If you want to really be an ally, then you need to really listen. And beyond listening, you need to really hear. You need to turn off the voices in your head that are responding to every little thing you’re listening to, and just hear it with your soul, without judgment, without defensiveness, without shame or guilt or anger. Yes, you’re opening yourself up to being hurt this way, because it can hurt to have your beliefs and your actions crumbled. It can hurt, too, to hear other people, because oftentimes, people don’t speak as if you’re really hearing them. They speak as if you’re not hearing them. So you might hear anger, and hurt, and resentment, and suspicion. But if you’re really going to be an ally, you need to hear all that, and you need to also remember later to take care of yourself and consider what your needs are, and whether and how other people can be better allies to you. And that might mean asking them to listen and hear you. But you have to be open about this, because anything that isn’t shared candidly is just a brick in the prison of self-defensiveness and isolation that you’re building up around yourself, and once that prison is built it is so, so hard to escape.
But I don’t think “ally” is the appropriate word for this — because this, to me, is what it should mean to be human. Forget about proving anything. Forget about trying to live up to what you think it means to be a perfect ally. Forget about trying so hard not to make mistakes that you cry in frustration and from feeling misunderstood. Just listen, and hear. Then, when you mess up, you’ll know because other people will trust you to hear them when they tell you what your mistake was. And you, in turn, will be able to learn from them. And maybe then you’ll be able to tell them when they mess up, and they’ll listen, and hear you too. And then, maybe, gradually, we’ll all be able to stop greeting each other from behind thick curtains that we suspiciously peek out from behind, and maybe we’ll stop having to yell in order to make sure our voices are heard, and maybe we won’t have to resort to communicating to people different from us with anger, because we’ll trust them to hear us when we feel betrayed. Or maybe we will get angry, but then our anger will be met with support and validation, rather than defensiveness and dismissal.
What do you do if you hear someone and they don’t hear you? My friend Ruhi once asked a mentor, “how many people can you love before you love too much?” and her mentor said, “you can never love too many people, as long as you don’t expect them to love you back.” You have an infinite supply of love, as long as it has no agenda. See, the thing is, if you are listening to someone under the condition that they listen to you too, then you’re not really hearing them. In order to hear, you have to give of yourself. It has to be utterly selfless, in a way, because hearing is not an exchange. It’s a one-way action. If you then don’t feel heard in return, you may certainly lose some respect for the person, and you might decide that in order to take care of yourself you shouldn’t pursue a relationship (of any kind) with the person, but that doesn’t mean the person didn’t deserve to be heard. And maybe, just maybe, you planted a seed in the person’s heart. A hearing seed. (And at the same time, I think hearing can be utterly selfish, because you’re acting out of your full humanity, and allowing it to blossom.)
I am not an ally. I’m not an ally to anyone, and I’m not really an ally to myself. I’m constantly fucking up and getting stuck and doing things that aren’t good for me and living out all my various internalized oppressions. And if I keep fucking up with regards to myself, how on earth can I possibly live up to being an ally to others? I try, dammit, I try. But that’s all I can do, and when I do fuck up, the best thing I can do is say, “I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.” And then try again, and maybe fuck up again, and say I’m sorry again.
I am not an ally, but I promise from the depths of my being that I will do my best to hear you. And when you hurt me, I will try my hardest to tell you, so that you have the chance to hear me too.
oh, yes, yes, yes. your point about hearing is so well explained and so important, i think.
Wow this was really, really good. Thanks for it, I happened to need this right now.
Thank you for sharing that. This message would do a lot of people good to read. So many times people listen without hearing. The world would be a much better place if we could all hear without an agenda.
[...] A few days ago (Monday maybe?) Alphafemme posted about allyship on her personal blog here. Her words and comments have inspired numerous conversations throughout the week between myself [...]
So I read this right when you posted. I tweeted that it inspired intense conversation within my lgbt organization – as well as an upcoming video response apparently! Well, I have finally had time to sit and process what it all means to me.
I love the way that you call people out for posing as allies. We (humans) are all too quick to jump on a cause without taking the time to understand and listen to what it is all about. Declaring yourself ALLY is more a way of stating, I’m not against you. This is not what an ally is supposed to be. It is unfortunate that something that should represent tolerance, acceptance, understand has simply become a social fad.
Thank you so much for putting into words something that I have been trying to express for way too long. You allowed me to have open conversations and, honestly, to begin to listen to others a bit more.
Excellent post. I can see why you sat on it for a bit. There’s … a LOT there. It took me a few reads to really absorb and digest all of it, and I’ve liked it more and more each time.
I’ll admit. This hearing thing took me a while to really, really learn. I’m the person that by nature? Is thinking of my response before you’re ever done speaking. I frame my arguments. I strategize. I outline. That is my instinct.
So I’ve had to really train myself to listen without expectation, and I don’t think I’m alone. It’s a skill to hear someone else without getting defensive or antagonistic, and it takes real practice. Thanks for the reminder of how important that is.
This is an amazing and honest consideration of a word that is thrown around too lightly. Thank you for your insight.
x L.S.
Yes, being an ally shouldn’t just be about yourself, but about listening to other people.
But I don’t agree that “just being human” is helpful. The point of encouraging straight people to become allies is that straight people need to be proactive about engaging with queer literature, activism, and leadership. To truly be helpful and supportive, straight people need to leave their comfort zone and actively engage with dialogue that they may not otherwise be exposed to. That means being more than just a good person, but actually committing to self-examination, learning, and taking action.
For example, speaking up when others are being homophobic can be challenging if you’re not prepared. Allies can engage in thoughtful discussion and exploration in advance of those moments, which they otherwise probably wouldn’t do if their goal was to “just be human”.
Hey Blaise, thanks for your comment :)
I agree wholeheartedly that it is so important for straight people to do that kind of proactive work. Just like it’s necessary for me as a white person to do the same regarding the histories, literatures, activism and leadership of people of color (for example). And I totally embrace you calling that allyship.
And I’ve been sitting here staring at my blinking cursor trying to pinpoint what it is that still bothers me about that term. I’m not sure I can do it articulately, but I’ll try.
I don’t think people should need the label of the word “ally” to motivate them to do the things you’re talking about, things like interrupting oppressive behaviors and having thoughtful dialogue with others and exploring issues of identity proactively. I do think those things should come out of a sense of human curiosity, a genuine desire to connect, and an openness to learning and changing. So when I talk about just being human, I’m not talking about stepping down from what it means to be an ally. I’m talking about stepping up to what it means to be human. Does that make sense?
I guess my reason for this is that it just isn’t possible to ever be educated enough, active enough, supportive enough to be a real ally, if that’s what being an ally means. I can’t possibly educate myself proactively about all the histories and literatures of people of color, and people with disabilities, and people of marginalized faith, and trans people, and genderqueer people, and poor people, and and and … I mean, fuck, I can’t even master my OWN marginalized identities! And the idea of allyship makes me feel panicky, like I’m not doing enough, because I never CAN do enough. It’s not really possible. If I miss an opportunity to call someone out on using the word “retarded,” am I a bad ally? Maybe. But am I a bad person? No, definitely not. I think that’s your point, that being an ally requires more than being a good person, but I think the problem with that is that it doesn’t allow for failure. And failure is possibly the least motivating thing of all.
I do think that a problem with my thinking is that as of now, “being human” DOESN’T mean being an ally. So a designation is needed for those with whatever kinds of privilege who do actively and proactively fight oppression. (Sorta like how “queer” is a necessary designation now, though many people think an ultimate goal of queer activism and liberation is that everyone is in some way queer.) So practically speaking, I agree with the utility of the term allyship. But as an overarching concept, I still think that humanity, when lived out to its fullest, is really the best that we all can do. Because being a true “ally” isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being real. Human. And I think that in striving towards being a perfect “ally,” many folks forget about that core humanness.
Again, thanks so much for your thoughts. I love talking about this stuff (can you tell?). I fully invite more dialogue, if you have further thoughts on the matter!
Thanks for your thoughtful response!
I think perhaps your criticism is ultimately about privilege – at the end of the day “allies” can distance themselves from the causes they’re fighting for: white people can forget about race, straight people can return to their heteronormative lives, etc.
So can anyone really BE an ally if it’s just part-time?
Maybe then ally isn’t an identity, so much as an aspiration. Maybe you’re right that we can never truly be allies, but we can still aspire to act as an ally. Ultimately it’s not a reflection of who you are, not a label or identity, but a verb, an action?
[...] critiques have been made of the behaviour of such allies and of the concept in itself (e.g. serious critiques and fun ones). The failure of the concept of ally is best seen, I think, in the number [...]