Don't Call Yourself An Ally

Allies don’t exist.

No one is born an ally. Allyship is a choice, an action, not an identity. An ally is only an ally in the moment of that action. They cannot be relied on inherently, and the word means nothing when it takes on a role as internalized identifier. Self-proclaimed allies often worry so much about the perception of being an ally that it prevents them from actually being one.

They internalize the identity of ally and thus any critique of their actions becomes not a call for correction but a personal attack. So long as they link their self worth and self image to the notion of some core personhood concept of being an ally, they cannot engage with correcting their failed allyship without first overcoming the insult to their pride, and the dissonance of mismatch between identity and action.

Many, rather than acknowledge the harm they’ve done, choose to silence their detractors and amplify only those marginalized people who agree with them. Thus the ally becomes suspect, but so too does any space curated by them. If the goal is first hand experience, allowing allies to control which experiences are presented is as good as letting them speak as if first hand. Their voices, directly or indirectly, drown out the voices of the very people they claim to be allies to. For this, they seek praise and the cycle becomes self reinforcing, feeding not liberation but their fragile egos.

The self-proclaimed ally, focused more on reputation than efficacy, finds callouts a threat. A sign of failure is treated as a sign of weakness. They catastrophize callouts experienced not as a call to action but a call to condemnation. This reflects a deep, if understandable, insecurity, and its cause is internalization of allyship as identity. Failing as an ally is only a personal attack if the so-called ally considers allyship as integral to personality, rather than what it is, an action.

This barrier to correction serves to distance the would-be ally from allyship in service of their self-satisfaction. Furthermore, and worse, it distances them from the very people they would be allies to. They cement their unreliability and betray trust, but worse, they disrespect the kindness and love which is accountability. When an ally is called out on their failures, that is, at its core, a gift to them. It is a sign that we believe that with greater information they can choose to do and be better. That we still have trust in them to do better.

The phrase “but I’m an ally” should never rest upon the lips or fingertips of any person. It’s used to deflect from criticism, not to assist in liberation. Ally is a fleeting label, given by the individual in need to the temporary supports. That is valuable, and it is a mistake to say otherwise. That is necessary. But it is the action, in the moment, that is needed. And just because it is necessary, and important, just because it is altogether too rare, that doesn’t make it laudable. Allyship is the expected minimum standard of every person, a standard that the world as a whole on every scale fails at continually and colossally, but nonetheless a minimum target standard.

I will, of course, from time to time thank allies, because that rareness feels necessary to recognize, or safer to recognize, a fragile ally is still better in the moment than an active enemy. But in truth every appreciation is tinged in bitterness. Yes, I am very thankful that there are those beyond my marginalization who are willing to stand with me, behind me, to shield me most of all. They help keep me alive. But, that’s not the ideal. I don’t want to have to be thankful for being able to exist by their good will. I want to live in a world where allyship isn’t notable, because it isn’t necessary. I want to live in a world where I am not expected to be grateful to people for treating me like a human being.

Questions I have for anyone who is upset reading this:
If your allyship is about helping us, about healing our broken societies, and not about your personal brand, your personal identity as a good person, then why do you care whether you’re seen as an ally? What value does your “I’m an ally” bring to us, those you would be an ally to? How is it allyship? When I tell you you’re not an ally, that you can’t be an ally, why does that upset you?

Is it because you want to stop worrying about your complicity in our oppression? Is it because you want to sort the world into easy categories of good people and evil? Oppressed people and oppressors? Is it because ally lets you borrow our oppression for your own feelings of empowerment? Is it because allowing yourself to be labelled neatly as “ally” is permission to stop working on yourself, permission to say “I’m done,” permission to end the eternal discomfort of unpacking the internal mechanisms by which you contribute to systematic oppression. Is it because labelling yourself ally allows you to absolve yourself of the guilt of past failed allyship, because of course you “used” to be bad, but you’re an ally now so there’s no need to apologize.

You’re right that there may not be a need to apologize for the past. Us trans folks largely grew up assuming for some time we were cis. We had to learn all the ways we’d hurt others and ourselves, and we still do it, both the hurting and the learning. But we’re fast tracked by necessity. No one forces the ally to learn to be better. It has to come from within. The moment you claim the label ally, is the moment you’ve claimed you’re completed that process. But so long as systematic oppression exists, that process cannot be complete. Society actively enforces oppression, and the building blocks of that is individual people and their interactions, twisted and forced by external pressures. If you are not constantly working against that pressure, it will drag you along. Those who are oppressed work against it in part merely by keeping ourselves breathing. Allies have to do it consciously. That’s why being an ally isn’t a label. It’s not something that is complete, it’s not inherent to any person, it’s not even a sign of a good person or bad. It’s just a descriptor of moments of support.

Be a supporter. Be a collaborator. Be an ally. But remember that you aren’t one, except in the moment of action. And that each action is separate from the last. And each moment grants an opportunity to grow, to do better than you’ve done before. Don’t mistake the choices you make with the person you are.


archangel.jpg

Written by Archangel|December

Archangel|December is a white, ND, non-binary transfemme, omniromantic, abrosexual, relationship anarch. While faer degree is in neuroscience, fen works in IT for a day job. In their spare time fae tries to help with trans education and activism, runs an intermittent podcast, and plays tabletop games.

Recipes

OpinionGuest User