Holding yourself accountable for your allyship

Holding yourself accountable for your allyship

By: Maria Rio10+ years of experience in nonprofit project/people management

As the conversation around allyship continues to evolve, it’s becoming increasingly clear to our white colleagues that being “nice” was never enough. In order to truly be an ally, it’s necessary to take a hard look at one’s own actions and hold oneself accountable for making tangible changes.

One of the biggest issues with allyship is that it can often be performative or insincere. In our sector, many of us have witnessed or experienced the violence and weaponization of niceness by self-proclaimed allies. By “violence of niceness,” I am referring to the tendency for white people — especially white women — to prioritize being perceived as nice, easy-going, or polite over taking meaningful action to support marginalized communities. This is often due to a lack of personal accountability, as well as a lack of professional accountability.

So how can we quantify allyship and truly hold ourselves accountable in and outside the workplace? 

One way is to set quantifiable weekly, monthly, and annual Tangible Action Goals (TAGs). For example, how many DEI workshops and trainings did you do this past year? How many books or podcasts produced by BIPOC or showcasing BIPOC as experts have you consumed? How many voices local to the issue have you amplified?

In the following sections, I’m going to break down some example TAGs and how they materially help those in your communities.

Having a difficult hour-long conversation with a family member over their use of an offensive word.

Confrontation involves facing discomfort and having an honest conversation with a loved one about the harm caused by their use of an offensive word. It shows a commitment to justice over niceness. 

It is important to do this not only in low-stakes scenarios, like with a stranger or someone you dislike, but also with your family and friends. The violence of niceness often deters well-meaning people from confronting close connections, or connections perceived to have more power, when faced with blatant oppression and discrimination.

By doing this yourself, you are removing or easing the burden of educating your loved ones from the marginalized people they interact with at work or in daily life. Educating people is incredibly uncomfortable, harmful, and emotionally draining for many marginalized individuals; be an ally by using your positional privilege to confront those around you when they say something problematic — without exception.

Identifying words like “stakeholder” as problematic and removing them from your communications.

Indigenous Corporate Training Inc has some incredible guides. By consistently seeking out phrases and words that may not be inclusive for everyone and removing them from your vocabulary, you help create a less oppressive environment.

When we avoid problematic words and phrases, we work to not alienate or harm communities that interact with our organization. The easiest way to think about this point is to think of words you thought were appropriate in the workplace 10-20 years ago (whether said by you or others), and apply the same level of rigidity to phrases used today that are alienating, offensive, or un-inclusive. Here is another communications guideline outlining problematic terms.

Listening to a podcast that made you realize something and applying the lesson in your life.

Similarly to educating a loved one, each person must prioritize educating themselves. We do not have the same lived experience as other people in communities we belong to. While we all have various identity intersections that can inform our opinion, we will always have gaps in understanding. That is why taking consistent action is key to allyship. By doing the work yourself, you remove the burden off of someone else.

Not applying for a job posting that doesn’t show the salary and instead emailing the company to educate them on why that is problematic.

Salary transparency is an important step toward creating a more equitable workplace. When organizations don’t show the salary (or discourage you from discussing your salary), they perpetuate wage discrimination. People of color are deeply affected by this as they may — unknowingly — not be paid fairly compared to others.

Creating a culture of secrecy around salaries makes it difficult for employees to negotiate their compensation. You can act against that by emailing your organization or the hiring company to educate them on why salary transparency is important or by openly discussing salaries and benefits. Taking difficult but concrete action to challenge a problematic practice can help create a workplace culture that values transparency and equity.

Attending a protest to support Land Back claims.

This kind of allyship is crucial, as it starts with decentering oneself and recognizing the role that privilege plays in shaping the world. By attending protests and supporting oppressed peoples, individuals are sending a message that they are committed to creating a more just and equitable society. 

In the workplace, this same kind of allyship can have a powerful impact. When allies use their privilege and platform to elevate those advocating for concrete policies around diversity, equity, and inclusion, they are helping to create a more just and welcoming environment for everyone. They are showing that they are not just talking the talk, but also taking tangible actions to support marginalized communities.

Talking to the ED or communications director about trauma porn/exploitative storytelling.

Trauma porn or exploitative storytelling refers to the use of graphic and often sensationalized depictions of trauma, poverty, or perceived tragedy in order to create a sense of shock, awe or to gain a donor’s attention. This type of storytelling can be extremely damaging to the individuals or communities being depicted, as it relies on stereotypes, white saviorism, and exploitation.

Such content can significantly impact the mental and emotional well-being of those who view it. It can lead to increased anxiety, fear, and trauma symptoms in some people, particularly those who have experienced similar events in their own lives. 

Anecdotally, I was recently asked during a media interview what it was like accessing food banks and what it was like living in a refugee shelter. If you cringe at that, please take action to not put service users in that position.

Turning down a speaking opportunity with only white panelists.

When you don’t question this and take the “opportunity,” you may be taking up space that does not belong to you. By turning down a speaking opportunity with only white panelists, you are taking a stand for diversity and inclusivity, and demonstrating a commitment to promoting a more equitable and representative public discourse. 

Moreover, you are letting the organizers know that this is an important requirement for a successful panel, and pointing to the professional excellence brought by members of oppressed communities.

Believing the experience of those who say you harmed them and not centering yourself.

When someone says you have harmed them, listen to and believe their experience. Do not focus on defending yourself. Active listening demonstrates empathy, accountability, and a commitment to understanding and repairing harm. Fighting to be perceived as polite, the victim, or well-intentioned in this scenario can create more harm because it may mean that you are not taking the situation seriously and are not fully engaging with the experience of the person who has been hurt.

Using your privilege to hold those in power and your peers accountable.

By publicly naming names, outing racist practices, and demanding better, allies and activists can take on the “heat” that marginalized people cannot afford to take, whether due to emotional capacity, possible repercussions, or more. A great example of this is Liz LeClair’s “The Lies We Tell Ourselves: Racism and a Failure of Leadership in Canada’s Largest AFP Chapter.” In this piece, Liz shares with her audience a piece written by a former AFP Toronto board member who experienced anti-Black racism. She pointedly calls for an apology, for meaningful inclusion, and calls on other white colleagues to do the same. She says, “I am tired of our profession’s mediocre and tepid responses to acts of racism and discrimination. We are not the voice for the unheard, we are the muzzle that seeks to censor and silence those who speak out against injustice.”

Good intentions do not always have good impacts. By ignoring that, you can be dismissive or insensitive, can further harm a relationship, or exacerbate the harm that has already occurred. It is important to actively listen to and believe the experiences of those who say you have hurt them in order to promote healing, growth, and strong relationships.

 

Allyship is not a one-time act or a label to be claimed; it’s an ongoing process of learning, listening, and taking action. By setting quantifiable goals and holding ourselves accountable for meeting them, we can ensure that we are truly doing the work to support marginalized communities. These will help you measure your own progress and activity as an ally and advocate. When you start quantifying and tracking TAGs under personal and professional categories, you can assess how many you completed in a week, a month, a year, etc. You cannot change what you do not acknowledge.  By tracking TAGs you will be able to assess where you are lacking in your allyship, and question why you consider yourself to be anti-racisct, anti-ableist, pro-trans, or an ally in general, if you only complete one or two TAGs per week.

Organization-wise, we know tracking metrics can help to ensure that allyship efforts are sustainable and that progress is not lost over time. By using a similar approach, you can truly practice allyship.

Maria Rio

Maria Rio

Maria Rio (she/her) is a fundraising consultant with Further Together with 10+ years of non-profit experience. She is regularly asked to speak on issues related to fundraising and her op-eds have been featured in national publications. She was a finalist for the national 2022 Charity Village Best Individual Fundraiser Award and has a deep passion for non-profit work. Maria also sits on the Board of Living Wage Canada.

You can connect with Maria through Further Together or through LinkedIn.

Beyond Philanthropy: Disrupting Fundraising

Beyond Philanthropy: Disrupting Fundraising

About the podcast episode

In this episode, Monique and Valerie discuss the various aspects of Fundraising, how to move the practice forward, how to be more community-centric in your efforts, and how to educate donors throughout the process.

View the accessible text-only version.

About Beyond Philanthropy

Beyond Philanthropy is a podcast about how we can move beyond traditional philanthropy from co-hosts Monique Curry-Mims & Valerie Johnson. This season, each monthly episode examines systemic change and how to be disruptive in your philanthropy practice, with a mix of episodes featuring our co-hosts and episodes featuring guests from across the country.

Monique Curry-Mims

Monique Curry-Mims

Monique Curry-Mims has over 15 years of business and leadership experience in both the nonprofit and for-profit sectors. As Principal of Civic Capital Consulting, an international social impact consulting firm, Monique delivers innovative strategies that help organizations meet their mission and goals, education services that empower solutions and equity, and funding to help communities working on the ground be part of the change they need. To further change impact, Monique serves as a steering committee member of Philadelphia Black Giving Circle, Trustee and the Allocations Chair of Union Benevolent Association, and a Committee Member of AFP Global’s Government Relations Committee. Additionally, Monique serves as Founder and Convener of PHLanthropy Week and co-host of Beyond Philanthropy alongside Valerie Johnson.

Valerie Johnson

Valerie Johnson

Valerie Johnson joined Pathways to Housing PA as Director of Institutional Advancement in 2018, and was promoted to VP of Advancement and Special Projects in 2021. She co-hosts a podcast, Beyond Philanthropy, alongside Monique Curry-Mims. She was also the Director of Advancement for Council for Relationships and worked as a fundraiser for Valley Youth House and the American Association for Cancer Research. Valerie, a Certified Fundraising Executive, holds a Bachelor’s degree in Marketing and an MBA from Drexel University. A member of the Association of Fundraising Professionals since 2012, she serves on the Greater Philadelphia Chapter’s Board of Directors as Vice President of Education and Professional Development. Valerie has been a featured speaker for the Pennsylvania Association of Nonprofit Organizations, NTEN, AFP GPC, and AFP Brandywine, and contributes to Generocity. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram, where you’ll see plenty of running and baking content alongside her cats, Agador and Spartacus. 

To tip Valerie and Monique for their work on their podcast, Venmo them at: @valer1ej

highrises

highrises

By Jasmin Velez, diasporican community organizer and environmentalist

city tower tall with power 
you tease us, squeeze us…abuse us 
yet we worship you; cityscapes of euphoria 

contemporary history? maybe 
we’re engraved in the memory 
before the olden high rises weren’t visible
we cling to you, the old you 

before gentrification knocked us all out
made us dust and rubble, useless 
not even a mixture for its concrete 

when did you decide we weren’t enough? is it
because we have all become hardened, tough? did
you think that meant we stopped loving you? 

on the contrary, you were one of the few
last clings of hope to make our marks 
now we’ve become those busted old tracks
a route of what once was — 
we are forgotten history in the making.

Artist Statement

This piece was written when I was riding one of the most important lines of public transportation in Philadelphia, “The El.” I began to really notice for the first time how the façade of buildings were beginning to resemble less of the Philly charm and tradition of bricks, and more of what I call ‘ikea-builds.’  With these changes, I saw less of the street art and murals I was used to seeing during my commute. I was for the first time consciously observing how the city and many parts that I frequented were beginning to physically change and reflecting on what that meant to me. I do not want it to read as a sense of hopelessness, because I see it as an awakening of sorts; it gave me the chance to really reflect on what was happening in my community and learn to better advocate against inequitable development.

Jasmin Velez

Jasmin Velez

Jasmin Velez (she/her) is an applied practicing anthropologist and an almost life-long resident of the Kensington neighborhood. Jasmin grew up in Aguada, Puerto Rico, and moved to Philadelphia when she was five years old. She attended Bloomsburg University of PA, where she received her Bachelor of Arts in Cultural Anthropology, and later graduated from the University of Colorado Denver with her master’s in Medical Anthropology. Missing the diversity of her community and the east-coast city vibes, she returned to Philadelphia following her studies and returned to her neighborhood. She has been working for the nonprofit industry for close to ten years, with many of her projects focusing on community education and environmental stewardship, and justice. Jasmin enjoys writing short stories and poetry and traveling to the motherland during her free time. You can follow her adventures on Instagram at @writinghello and if you enjoy her pieces, you can fuel her coffee obsession at https://ko-fi.com/writinghello

Why must the white cis nonprofit workers angry react to all my posts? Ep: Do your own internal labor and healing

Why must the white cis nonprofit workers angry react to all my posts? Ep: Do your own internal labor and healing

By Chris Talbot, communications professional and educomics creator

Go back to the infographic via this link

Introduction

Too often in white-, cisgender-led organizations, stress that marginalized people consistently experience is treated like something they have to therapize or emotionally regulate their way through. Not a symptom of policies and practices that disenfranchise them (which it is). At the same time, any discomfort white and cis people experience is treated as something serious that needs to be addressed rather than signs that they need to learn and grow. This leads to marginalized folks continually having to edit their feedback to avoid huge emotional blow-outs from their co-workers with relative privilege, adding even more to their labor:

First Section

There’s an illustration of me reading a piece of paper. A close-up of the last part of the document is partly cut off, but it is clear it says “JEDI Accomplishments: – Started organization-wide justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion (JEDI) training. – Hired a consultant to help us achieve our JEDI goals. – Completed the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion in the Workplace Certificate.” Text in a word bubble says “You have got
to be @#$%& kidding me!”

Text below says: Tasked with editing a justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion (JEDI) narrative for a grant for one of my workplaces, I immediately noticed how blatantly my trans, queer, mixed-race self had been used in the previous year’s report. The accomplishments were things I had to fight tooth and nail for, many were highly exaggerated, and the last was something I did myself when my workplace didn’t recognize my 25 years of expertise in the JEDI field. It credited the workplace with that accomplishment although I received no pay or assistance getting that certificate. I was mad at this disrespectful tokenization, but I had to emotionally regulate on my own and wait to talk it through with my teammates before I could even say anything to others because of an agreement I’d made with them weeks before:”

The next few cells are flashbacks to a Zoom call and have a sepia overlay making them seem “old timey.” They are labeled “Flashback.”

In the first cell, a white cis woman says “While we’re talking about psychological safety, it would make me feel safer to know that what I say won’t end up on social media. Even if it doesn’t have my name attached to it, it makes me anxious to think about ending up on your LinkedIn.”

In the next cell, I have a thought bubble which says “It’s my only outlet that makes me feel like I can make a change in the movement!”

In the following cell, I am saying “I hear what you’re saying and I can see how it might be nerve-wracking. We want to build a space where people feel safe to make mistakes and learn. But I need to be able to continue to educate on my LinkedIn. It’s the only way I can continue doing this work.”

In the next cell, the white cis woman says “I hear what you’re saying and I support that work. I know that a lot of people follow you on LinkedIn. Maybe you could bring it to the group first so that it isn’t a surprise when we read it? And make sure not to name anyone or the organization?

In the following cell, I reply “Absolutely! I never name names and I have multiple jobs, so no one knows which one I’m talking about.”

The next cell says “Flashforward. And then I did that. I brought issues to the group to address and posted the lessons on LinkedIn.”

In the following cell, I’m saying “…so the grant narrative totally tokenized me. I know none of you wrote it, but it brought up a lot I’ve dealt with in this org. In the future…” Below me is a screenshot from my LinkedIn post, which says “Today I’m tasked with editing a justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion narrative that went out at one of my workplaces and I’m angry to see how my trans, queer, mixed-race self was used in last year’s. Firstly, all the ‘achievements’ are things I had to fight tooth and… see more.”

The next set of cells are labeled “One week later:”

The white cis woman is saying “So I know you already talked to us about this, but I got really anxious about seeing it written on LinkedIn. It made me worried about our grants. What if that granted found your post? It could give people the wrong idea of our organization.”

In the next cell, I have a thought bubble that says “Ok, but reading what actually happened would mean they got the right idea. Please manage the situation; don’t manage me.”

In the next cell, I say “While I understand why you told me, that anxiety is not mine to hold. I think you. may. need to sit in that discomfort. I’m healing from what happened to me. I shouldn’t also be talked with how you feel about learning of it or repercussions that may come of it. It happened to me. That’s what I’m tasked with dealing with. I followed the process we set forth. If we need to take another look at that, we can. But if there’s nothing material you want me to do other than know you experienced discomfort, that’s not something I need to know.”

In the next cell, a white cis man perks up.

I continue with “The task of navigating other’s anxiety about what happened to me can’t be my responsibility too.”

In the next cell, the white cis man says “Actually, our social media guidelines may prevent you from posting those posts at all.”

In the next cell, I have a word bubble that says “No they don’t. I can’t believe people read the full post and how I feel and this is what they want to discuss.”

In the following cell, I’m angry and saying “Any anxiety that comes with hearing what happened to me is something you need to process on your own, with a therapist, or in a support group. I’m not responsible for those feelings and my equity work can’t be limited by those feelings. We can revisit the process if it’s not working, but I don’t think the solution is that I can’t post things that could improve the conditions marginalized people routinely experience in nonprofits because of fear that it could possibly reflect badly.”

In the next cell, the white cis man’s face is replaced by the Facebook angry react emoji.

In the next cell, there’s a Zoom screen and all the white and cis people have their faces replaced by the Facebook angry react or shocked emojis.

Second Section

Text says “Emotional regulation isn’t the only internal work that a lot of white and cis nonprofit workers in white-, cis-led organizations aren’t expected to do. They also often aren’t expected to show up to work with a whole lot of cultural competency or even a drive to learn better to do better:”

A white cis woman is saying “I tried doing the JEDI module that we were supposed to talk through today, but it was long! I spent my whole day two days ago doing it but didn’t get all the way through. I had important work to do.”

In the next cell, a thought bubble behind me says “Mm-kay. But you had the training for two months, so what were you doing all those other days?”

In the following cell, I say “Well participate as much as you can from what you were able to get through and hopefully you can work through the rest of the module after this group review.”

In the following cell, she replies “Great! Because you know, sense of urgency and perfectionism are white supremacy characteristics! I learned that!”

In the following cell, I’m angry. The thought bubble by my head says “OMG! That’s not what those characteristics mean at all, you weren’t rushed, and why am I still here?

Text says “When you aren’t required to have any cultural competency at work, and you don’t take it upon yourself to learn, it becomes the perpetual work of your marginalized colleagues to emotionally regulate and teach. You should want to be culturally competent and not harm marginalized people you come into contact with as a person, never mind as a coworker. Do your work — on your own, more than is required of you at work, and at a faster pace. You learned other adult skills like how to do your taxes when you needed to; treat JEDI work as the necessary skillset it is.”

Third Section

In this next section, text says “The feelings of white, cis, abled people in organizations like these where their feelings are centered above all else often stop all progress in an organization when it starts its justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion work. Here’s an even more blatant real world example:”

In the next cell, I’m saying “I understand that the sticker price may be jarring, but it is within the standard percent of the budget for organizations that do successful JEDI work. If we say we’re committed, we need to financially commit too.”

In the next cell, a white cis man is thinking. He says “I just want you to understand where I’m coming from. I’m triggered by large sums of money in the budget because of the layoffs that happened 12 years ago. That’s all. I’m not against JEDI training. Just that budget amount. Can’t we just learn internally?”

The next session has a larger illustration of me, facing the reader wearing a “Decolonize Your Mind” hoodie, and with one hand up like I’m explaining something. Text says: “Look, I’m going to break the fourth wall and just tell you something. Because I don’t want to show you how I swallowed the harm in this case and assured him instead of addressing what he said. Because I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had told him what I’m going to tell you: go to therapy.

“Go to therapy, go to support groups, start an accountability group with your white colleagues. Do what you need to do to heal from whatever is causing you to completely stymie progress because you’re scared. If you are truly triggered (as in, experiencing intense emotional distress that reminds you of a past traumatic experience; this is not the word if you’re just uncomfortable), seek the help you need to heal. Being triggered isn’t an excuse to harm your colleagues indefinitely or send hostile messages or trauma dumps to them (a common way that people weaponize their feelings when they need to be regulating them). It’s a sign you need to do your healing work.

“Find a therapist today at psychologytoday.com/us/therapist. You can search based on your needs, insurance, and preferences.

“For us Queer BIPOC folks, check out the National Queer and Trans Therapists of Color: nqttcn.com.”

There are screenshots of the Psychology Today Find a Therapist page and the National Queer and Trans Therapists of Color Network.

Conclusion

Text says “Your marginalized colleagues are already navigating an organization that was not made with them in mind. They don’t need to be navigating your hurt feelings or anxieties as well.

“That’s your job. If you needed to learn Excel to do your job, you’d do that without question. Use that same energy if you need to learn to emotionally regulate, do your own JEDI work (outside of work and beyond the occasional required training), and especially do your own healing. Because while your marginalized colleagues can’t therapize their way out of systemic -isms in your organization, you can heal and learn techniques to manage your trauma or pain so you don’t compound that harm.

“Don’t halt all process because a change that will improve the equity in your organization makes you afraid. If you truly have trauma around it, seek out a therapist. If you don’t, learn to sit in discomfort (And stop using serious language like “trigger” to describe things that are merely uncomfortable).

“*All illustrations of people, besides me, are far from the actual appearance of the people involved. Any physical likeness to any actual people you know and work with is purely coincidental.”

Chris Talbot

Chris Talbot

Chris Talbot (they/them) is a queer, trans nonbinary, mixed-race artist, activist, and nonprofit employee. When they aren’t working the day job, they spend their free time editing art and literature magazines, writing and illustrating educomics to help folks affirm their nonbinary pals, creating a graphic novel to describe what it’s like to be nonbinary in a gender binary world, cuddling their cat, and quad skating in the park. 

You can find Chris at talbot-heindl.com, on LinkedIn, Instagram, Bluesky, and Twitter — and tip them on Venmo or PayPal or join as a patron on their Patreon

Why must the white cis nonprofit workers angry react to all my posts? Ep: Do your own internal labor and healing

Why must the white cis nonprofit workers angry react to all my posts? Ep: Do your own internal labor and healing

By Chris Talbot, communications professional and educomics creator

View accessible/text-only version

Part of a comic. Full text is available via the link at the top of the page.
Part of a comic. Full text is available via the link at the top of the page.
Part of a comic. Full text is available via the link at the top of the page.
Part of a comic. Full text is available via the link at the top of the page.
Part of a comic. Full text is available via the link at the top of the page.
Part of a comic. Full text is available via the link at the top of the page.
Part of a comic. Full text is available via the link at the top of the page.
Part of a comic. Full text is available via the link at the top of the page.

Chris Talbot

Chris Talbot

Chris Talbot (they/them) is a queer, trans nonbinary, mixed-race artist, activist, and nonprofit employee. When they aren’t working the day job, they spend their free time editing art and literature magazines, writing and illustrating educomics to help folks affirm their nonbinary pals, creating a graphic novel to describe what it’s like to be nonbinary in a gender binary world, cuddling their cat, and quad skating in the park. 

You can find Chris at talbot-heindl.com, on LinkedIn, Instagram, Bluesky, and Twitter — and tip them on Venmo or PayPal or join as a patron on their Patreon