Allied in the Workplace
For those of you who’ve read this blog during the last year, you know that I intend for this to be a place to share the things I’m learning as a Diversity & Inclusion (D&I) practitioner, and as someone who has become increasingly engaged in issues of social justice. And to be clear, these two things are not the same. Perhaps one informs the other at times. For me, they form a sort of Venn diagram. There’s overlap, but there are aspects of each that reside unto themselves. One of the things that I’ve learned during the last year is the importance of differentiating between my workplace D&I efforts, which are rooted in a very specific business case, and my growing commitment to social justice, which is informed deeply by my upbringing, my politics, and my faith.
So suffice it to say that these last twelve months have been an education and, like a lot of learning, I’ve arrived at a place where I’m beginning to realize just how much I don’t know. Coming from my own experiences with the world over the last forty-seven years, I had a particular perspective on how I thought that things work. I’ve experienced the world around me without really acknowledging the ways in which I benefit from others’ hardship. But that perspective is broadening, day by day. And as I see more, I find myself wanting to understand, empathize, and work for change.
About nine months ago, I wrote about the idea of “ally-ship”. The post came in the wake of a particularly bad news week, where there were multiple police shootings of black men in the United States and I, like many of my friends and colleagues, was looking for a way to do something positive in the face of it. I wanted to be a supportive colleague. I wanted to understand more about racial injustice in America. I wanted to do something.
As I educated myself then, I came across some advice that I think still holds up. In an article titles “Advice for White Folks in the Wake of the Police Murder of a Black Person”, Justin C. Cohen talks about the need for those with societal privilege – based on gender, race, class, ability, sexuality, language, or anything else – to educate themselves. He talked about the need to try to remove the blind spots that come from a life lived unaware. And very importantly, he talked about not looking to those who are dealing with their own grief to be spokespeople and educators for their race.
Recently, I’ve seen this topic re-emerge in some really interesting ways. The movie “Get Out”, written and directed by Jordan Peele, comments on the idea of white ally-ship, satirizing it, and ultimately painting it as something that is worthy of skepticism, distrust and fear. It’s both entertaining and effective and, as a white person watching the film, a bit uncomfortable. In the first half of the movie, there are conversations where the white family at the center of the film says things that feel familiar. They feel like someone who’s trying too hard to create bonds, and crossing a line into micro-aggression. I found myself cringing at the inappropriateness of what was being said, and questioning whether I had created the same kind of cringe-worthy moments in my own well-intentioned conversations about racial issues.
There is an NPR podcast that I’ve recommended before called “Code Switch”, which focuses on race and ethnic diversity in America. A recent episode featured a conversation about the conundrums of ally-ship with activist and blogger Shishi Rose (who helped organize the women’s march in January 2017), Taz Ahmed (co-host of the “GoodMuslimBadMuslim” podcast, Reverend Timothy Murphy (a social activist) and NPR editor Juleyka Lantigua-Williams. In the conversation, two points emerged that stuck with me:
At one point, ShiShi Rose said plainly that she has no need for allies. She talked about how, for many who identify themselves as allies to a particular group, their ally-ship and support is largely about them, and not about the people that they are claiming to support. She essentially called out this type of ally-ship as useless, and a hindrance.
- Timothy Murphy talked about his view of ally-ship, which is summed up by saying that “ally” is a verb, and not a noun. That we are not allies, and that when the idea of being an ally becomes about personal identity, it can quickly go off course. Rather, he advocates for the idea of allying with others for real action – understanding, listening, and learning about real needs and how a person with power and privilege can best be of service.
Finally, at the end of that same podcast, I learned about “Safety Pin Box”, and entrepreneurial venture focused on educating would-be allies about racial justice issues, and providing monthly actions that can be taken to better equip people to act in ally-ship. (This is actually a really interesting resource. I’m learning a lot, and I recommend it. More information can be found at www.safetypinbox.com.)
To go back to that Venn diagram that I mentioned at the top of this post, I find myself thinking about how these thoughts on ally-ship impact my workplace D&I efforts. Most companies that focus on a D&I strategy form Employee Resource Groups (ERGs), which are often promoted as places where members of a particular community, and their allies, can discuss workplace issues that are specific to their shared experience, and educate others. So being an ally shows up in ERGs, and I think that educating those who are interested in ally-ship, but are new to it, is a worthwhile thing to do. I should mention that, on that podcast I listened to, not everyone agreed with ShiShi Rose. They acknowledged that ideas and misconceptions of what it means to act as an ally are fraught and can be problematic. But there seems to be a legitimate space for allies to lend their power and privilege to the people and causes that they support. So equipping those who would act as allies is good, important D&I work.
I also think that ally-ship can be a personal effort, carried out in conversation and friendship with colleagues. Here again, it goes far beyond symbols and identities. It’s about educating yourself, and then engaging in conversation. It’s about being open to hearing that your best efforts at educating yourself might be just “a bit off”, and being willing to be coached by a friend or colleague. It’s about being open to growth. And it’s about courage to stand with others when the time comes. If ally-ship it really what we’re committing to, then we must acknowledge it as something that has the potential to be strategic, conspiratorial, and even dangerous.
The question that I find myself pondering in the face of that is – how do I, as a D&I professional, lessen that potential danger? How do I remove or minimize the structures and biases that are systematic within my organization, and clear the way for others to succeed? These are big questions that get at the heart of strategic D&I.
So I’ll continue to learn, continue to be coached, and continue working to create an inclusive culture – one big, uncomfortable question at a time.
