This one's been on my mind this weekend, lads.
A couple of days ago, a video of me being interviewed about performative allyship in the context of Pride month came onto my Youtube recommended page. Aside from the fact that due to pure vanity I cannot bear to watch myself back, I would find it hard to watch as it is because of a few certain beliefs I had at the time that have subsequently changed as I have listened and learned more. Like someone said on my Instagram feed this morning - it's okay to change your mind and do what you thought was right at the time. I thought I'd use my space to reflect on my own forms of allyship six months down the line.
First... some context.
Kind of at the last minute, I'd been asked to partake in an existing interview series based off of an article I wrote for work, encouraging brands and business to not just throw half-hearted attempts at solidarity onto the internet when their business practices and make up didn't reflect what they're saying (in the wake of the death of George Floyd). My initial internal reaction to being asked was fear that I wasn't the right kind of person to be asked. I didn't think I had enough of value to say about being an ally in a wider context, especially outside of what I'd want a queer ally to look like. In hindsight, I think I was right to have this concern.
There has been a great deal to listen and learn about in the last few weeks, from Clubhouse rooms gone wrong to Instagram-based feminist debate - a lot of which has come back to the point of people (namely white women) continuing to centre debate around them, trying to preach to a choir when they haven't really the faintest idea of what it's like to experience the subject in question. Where the actual problems lie. I think my lack of knowledge and experience really showed. Don't get me wrong - I don't think I did the worst job in the world. There are a lot of points I raised that I still stand by. I can see when I panicked and actual facts went out the window. I was incredibly nervous - I'd burnt my leg on my straighteners while getting ready (I still have a scar) and wanted to impress who was interviewing me because I really fancied them. Now, I know that I'm not supposed to know everything. I'm almost 26 and it's perfectly fine for me to not be voicing opinions into the void. Not only does experience come with life being lived, as a reader/consumer I want to hear from other people - not ones like me. I want them to take that space. I'm not too sure how to navigate this as a wannabe writer yet but I know that in whatever I do, I want to bring marginalised voices with me, open the doors and go through them together (I hope that doesn't sound like cliche white woman rhetoric... but I find this difficult to condense).
Really, there are two points I made that I have learned more about since. Like I said, there's a lot that I stand by - commercialisation of pride celebrations, bisexual erasure, lesbian fetishisation, the idea that brands really need to buck their ideas up to actively serve a modern consumer, the fact that black trans lives remain the least supported. But why oh why did I say it was illegal to be gay in TWO HUNDRED countries, when I *know* like I know my own name that it's 74? If anything, I hope my blunder accentuates how ludicrous it is that I would be a criminal in 74 countries just for being me. That goes beyond someone like me needing to be careful about where they travel - it's queer people living in that environment 24/7. That's why it's so important to me to extend LGBTQIA+ awareness beyond the month of June... we are always fighting for someone else who needs support more than we ever would.
My most misguided error was surrounding the introduction and removal of dating app ethnicity filters. At the time, I'd had friends who had incredibly harmful experiences with Grindr's filters and made the assumption based off a few individuals (*dangerous*) that all users of colour would think exactly the same way, having exactly the same experiences. In the interview, I state that it's great that Grindr have finally removed it because of how much harm I thought it did. A few months later, a similar discussion occured online in relation to Hinge's version of a similar thing. Following a few other white women, I immediately took to social media to voice my outrage. Someone took the time (when they didn't need to) to explain that actually many POC users saw this as a means of protection - they could immeditely filter out people that might bring harm to them and make the user experience more enjoyable. I thanked them and apologised and have stood (publicly and privately) corrected since.
I don't want to speak on things like Black Lives Matter, I didn't at the time. I believe my role is to support and share the voices that know and need to be heard, without tagging on my own thoughts or opinions. I'm glad that the amount of personal growth that's happened in the last six months has been uncomfortable and noticable. Although I knew that not every discussion needed to be made about me or people like me, I'm in a better position now to understand that I also don't know enough about these things to engage in any kind of debate. I never want to stop trying to be a better ally. I feel I'm already benefitting from starting to seek out a wider pool of those to listen to, from able-bodies to fatphobia to learning that I hate the idea that feminism is something academic that requires a certain kind of language to engage with, and that there are so many people I don't want to engage with because they perpertuate exactly that (pls read Hood Feminism by Mikki Kendall btw). There is so much that we think we understand when we don't. And not speaking on behalf of others or recentering a conversation to fit around us is the very least in ensuring we start to undo that. I realise that I'm kind of doing that with this, although I felt I needed to say this in my own space.
Although this video interview isn't the worst thing to have to my name, there is a part of me that wants it removed because I feel uncomfortable about how I come across, things I've said, the fact I'm even speaking in the first place. But from that discomfort we grow - and I think having it public is a great way to hold myself accountable to making sure I'm doing and thinking better. I hope cancel culture realigns itself to where its needed, so people can grow and learn because they feel there's room to move forward. I hope I can continue to do the same. Please tell me if I'm not... if you wouldn't mind.
(I'm not going to tag it, but you can find the original link to the interview in my 2020 Insta story highlights if you'd like a frame of reference)
