The topic of allyship has risen dramatically over the past few years. While the subject peaked in popularity in June 2020, alongside a rise of Black Lives Matter protests, it is still significantly more searched now than before the COVID-19 pandemic. Allyship was even dictionary.com’s word of the year in 2021.

With this increased interest, there have also been discussions of performative activists — individuals who claim to support communities, but fail to make tangible efforts to help change the systemic processes that perpetuate discrimination.

There are disparities between the 75% of white employees who consider themselves allies and the less than 50% who take basic action to speak out against racial biases. Surface level activism has also become a concern because of increased discussions of social justice issues through social media platforms.

With this in mind, I want to explore what perceptions individuals in our community hold on the concept of allyship and the roles allies do, and should, play.

First, it’s important to ask what an ally is. Jae Edwards, assistant director of the LGBTQ Pride Center at NC State, offered his perspective as a queer, Black, disabled and cisgender man.

“An ally a lot of times, I feel like, is this term for folks [to use] to feel better about themselves,” Edwards said.

As a queer, disabled woman myself, I have encountered situations online and in person where self-proclaimed allies have become critical of the way individuals within communities interact with one another. People outside communities have been upset at the way I describe my lived experiences — gatekeeping them from the outside.

Kaelie Giffel, assistant director for Interpersonal Violence Prevention Education and Training within the Women’s Center on campus, shared their perspective on how self-proclaimed allies sometimes approach members of marginalized communities about the choices they make.

“It’s important to move from your own experience and to have some self awareness if you’re trying to tell somebody else that their lived experience is different,” Giffel said. “But it’s just not a good look for you to be running around, telling people that they don’t understand their own experience and they can’t use the vocabulary that they’re using.”

There are instances where activism and allyship can lead to expectations of community members to do more to dismantle systematic oppression and cast judgements about doing so.

“I hear a lot of times there are people who are allies who are doing more work for the community than the people in the community are doing, [but] simply existing as a marginalized person is doing more,” Edwards said. “Simply being a Black, queer person working at a predominantly white institution is an act of resistance in [and] of itself that an ally cannot accomplish.”

Both Edwards and Giffel emphasized the political and societal systems of oppression which create marginalized communities. This provides the basis for how people supporting communities should approach making change within our societal structures.

Edwards shared a perspective against neutrality by those who call themselves allies, as they stand to benefit from any outcome of politicized issues.

“I love when allies are putting themselves on the line because if you’re not doing anything to put yourself on the line, then you’re not truly being an ally because it’s not affecting you,” Edwards said.

So what can those wanting to support marginalized communities do?

We can start making a shift from allyship to solidarity. Standing in solidarity is more than a different label for the same performative actions of allyship; it’s making a commitment to do work to advance equity. Those who want to support communities can do so by educating themselves, reflecting on personal biases and working towards progress alongside marginalized groups — not as a representative of them.

Giffel said they have noticed a trend of middle-class people feeling obligated to argue for and on behalf of other people due to their position of privilege. They said a “ventriloquism” can occur when people are speaking for others instead of as themselves. Giffel sees a more honest approach in having conflicting perspectives on how to relate to one another and what matters to prioritize.

But the best thing to do may be to build genuine relationships and care for people in historically marginalized communities as individuals.

“I think allyship is always performative because if you’re an ally, it means you’re not a friend, and having a friend in the struggle is way more important in some cases than having an ally,” Giffel said.

Solidarity demands active involvement, not neutrality, in the pursuit of equity and justice. This applies for those who are members of communities as well, seeing as the ones we are not a part of will benefit from our active support.

We can build genuine connections with others on our campus, with specific resources at the Women’s Center, Pride Center, Multicultural Student Affairs and the African American Cultural Center. A commitment to active engagement, self-reflection and a willingness to stand alongside marginalized communities, rather than speak on their behalf, can allow a shift toward genuine solidarity.

True social progress results from caring for people.