Allyship

Earlier this month I posted about my Pride Like the Wind shawl and Pride fundraiser on Facebook. That post got a lot of attention, and a lot of it wasn’t good.

Somehow the post seems to have come to the attention of a lot of folks with a lot of very negative feelings about the LGBTQIA+ community. Homophobes and religious zealots took every opportunity to respond with hateful, nasty remarks. I’ve been called a lot of icky names over there on that post.

I’ve removed those comments as fast as they went up, because I don’t want to give hate a platform. I don’t respond, I don’t engage, but I’ll be darned if I’ll allow any space that is nominally mine to play host to those kinds of views.

But friends, it’s been exhausting. As many of you know, my dog is dying. I’m trying to prepare for an extended business trip. And frankly, even on our best days, how much of other people’s hate are can we absorb before it takes a toll?

And yet… I won’t take it down. Because in addition to all the haters, lots and lots of people who need to see love and support right now are getting to see it. So I keep hiding the yukky comments and letting my heart swell a little bit with each new ❤️ and 👍🏻.

I think it’s important to be an ally even when it’s hard. If it’s this hard for me to see that negativity when I’m not a member of the LGBTQIA+ community myself, how much worse is it for those who are? I tell myself that this is why allies are so important.

When I switch off the computer, there’s no one in my life telling me it’s not okay to be who I am. Maybe I have a bit more energy to deal with this stuff because I haven’t had to deal with it all day, every day, for my entire life. So maybe I can take on the haters for just a little longer, on behalf of my friends and loved ones who don’t get to chose to turn it off.

When I’m down about all this I like to think back to an experience I had flying home from Seattle last winter. I was wearing the shawl I designed for last year’s rainbow Pride fundraising pattern, Pride Goeth Before the Shawl. All day long, it seemed, people were going out of their way to tell me how much they liked it. Whether anyone thought I was advertising my own identity or just flashing allyship, only they’d know, but there was generally a look of recognition, or appreciation, or just of ease, knowing that we both knew that rainbow shawl meant a certain thing.

Late in the day I found myself in an airport Starbucks. When I got up to the counter to give my order, the barista who took my order actually squeed to the three other college-age young women who were working the shift with her. “You guys! Come see this rainbow shawl!!! Didyouknithat?!! Ohmygowdthatssoawesome! Didyouguysallseethis??!!” More squeeing ensued, this time among all of them. I don’t know which or how many of them behind the counter were LGBTQIA+, but there was a vibe there, and their shared delight in my bright rainbow shawl brought a huge grin to my face.

It’s such a simple thing, really, a rainbow. But such a very important thing, an ally.