If you have to tell black people you’re an ally, you’re probably not
Real allies show and prove, not self-identify
I was getting myself prepared for a bus ride to a protest rally, but I dodged telling my boss why. I just asked for the day off and said I had some travel plans. But a deadline was looming, and she really needed me to be there for certain books to release on time. Finally I gave in and just told her the truth about the rally I was going to, the court case that was going on and why I really needed those particular days off. She immediately changed her tune, said our editorial team would be fine and off-handedly mentioned a couple of protest rallies she went to.
You could’ve heard a record scratch. My eyes widened, and I said, “Wait, what? You did what? When?”
The whole time I’d known her, I noticed how adamant she was at giving me a fair shake with this editorial team, knowing I had far less experience than the vets with a decade-plus on their resumes. I noticed that she immediately donated to a black history party we had, and she flopped down in the breakroom to sit with a bunch of black people she didn’t know and chat with us — without trying way too hard and giving us “black facts.”
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And I noticed I never saw “the look” in her eyes around black folks and how easily she blended in when she was around my other work friends on separate teams. (My team was all white with one Chinese lady who came in later on.) But I just didn’t see “protest march” when I thought of her.
Recommended Read: “When POC become each other’s allies ~ Taking a stand on racism when I had everything to lose”
I started drilling her with questions about Civil Rights rallies she’d gone to, and she answered my questions patiently and honestly. It is moments like these where you confirm that “invite to the BBQ” that black people will joke about when it comes to white people. She never made a big deal about being what I’d call an “ally.” She just did what she thought was right — and quietly.
You don’t tell us; Black people will tell YOU when you’re an ally
Imagine going on a date right now after being in a really bad breakup. Your heart is still a little fragile. You’re not sure whether you can trust this person on the other side of the restaurant table. You’re wary of the online dating scene already. But she walks in, sits down at your table, and starts telling you how pretty and delightful and outstanding she is. She’s not giving you any chance to compliment her looks, personality or achievements.
She’s just telling you what you should like about her. At some point, you’re probably going to be a bit turned off by her. To put it bluntly (and a bit crass), “bad bitches” never have to tell you they’re bad bitches. You see it in their walk, talk and aura. Eventually this guy probably gets up from the table and thinks, “This lady is a handful. I just don’t feel like dealing with the cheerleader in her head. I’ll pass.” But she’s gone ahead and told this guy she’s his girlfriend now. He’s made no move to say he wants to be in a relationship with her and barely even tells her he likes her past this date, but she’s now self-identifying as his girlfriend — because they went on one date.
If you can relate to this statement, this is what it’s like when black people talk to white people who demand that we believe they’re allies. They went to one march, had a Kermit typing moment about Trump on Twitter and maybe put an “I can’t breathe” sign on a window sill. Now they’ve decided they’re the leader of the movement and everyone must listen to them. They are the “pretty, delightful, outstanding” girlfriend who went on one date. It’s exhausting.
Recommended Read: “10 ways to figure out if (s)he really has ‘a black friend’ ~ Note: This may not apply for all black people, but it applies to enough”
While there is ongoing debate about whether the term “allies” should be used to describe non-black people (or other minority groups) at all, I’m not in that group. I have had a social circle of people of diverse cultures and races and can usually spot when I’m with an ally. And the main way I know it is they don’t constantly remind me about their “black friends” or “friends of color,” they do not equate sexism with racism or claim to have the carbon-copy experience of black women, they don’t assume you’re going to make a grand show of showcasing your diverse social circle (i.e. the photo frame incident) and they don’t start telling you how great of an ally they are. They just are who they are.
To this day (more than a decade later), the boss I mentioned earlier in this post is still my favorite. I’ve had other bosses who gave me opportunities that I will thank them for forever, whether I stayed with that company or not. While I do my fair share of complaining about Corporate America and its toxic culture, moments like the one above taught me a lot about life, culture and equality. More importantly though, it goes back to the old adage (and the Barry White song): “Practice What You Preach.” When you do that, you don’t have to tell people exactly what you are. We recognize it when we interact with you.
Did you enjoy this post? You’re also welcome to check out my Substack columns “Black Girl In a Doggone World,” “BlackTechLogy,” “Homegrown Tales,” “I Do See Color,” “One Black Woman’s Vote” and “Window Shopping” too. Subscribe to this newsletter for the weekly posts every Wednesday. Thanks for reading!