Inclusive Allyship
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder of Diverse Educators
Allies:
noun. a state formally cooperating with another for a military or other purpose.
verb. combine or unite a resource or commodity with (another) for mutual benefit.
Allyship:
A lifelong process of building relationships based on trust, consistency, and accountability with marginalized individuals and/or groups of people. not self-defined—work and efforts must be recognized by those you are seeking to ally with.
Why do we need to be Inclusive Allies?
We are all humans. We are all equal. We all need to check our privilege. We need to empathise with the struggle that some people go through. We need to be aware of the obstacles and the barriers in the way of some people on their journey. We need to be aware of the impact of prejudice and discrimination.
#HeForShe and #WhiteAlly are two labels I have heard used in the last few years as the grassroots communities encourage supporters to join their movements for change.
Much like #DiverseEd aims to make connections between the different communities, we need a term to capture everyone who works with others to. At the #CollaborativeSupportForWomen event and our #DiverseEd event we have promoted the idea of Inclusive Allies:
Amy Ferguson spoke about Allyship at the Collaborative Support for Women event and the recording is here.
Patrick Ottley O’Connor spoke about Allyship at the Virtual Diverse Educators event and the recording is here.
Allyship is a process, and everyone has more to learn. Allyship involves a lot of listening. Sometimes, people say “doing ally work” or “acting in solidarity with” to reference the fact that “ally” is not an identity, it is an ongoing and lifelong process that involves a lot of work.
Inclusive Allyship is:
Men working alongside women to smash glass ceilings and advance gender equality.
White people working alongside people of colour to smash concrete ceilings and advance racial equity.
Heterosexual people working alongside Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer and Intersex people to smash the gay glass ceiling.
Able-bodied people working alongside disabled people to smash the glass disability glass ceiling.
How do we support as Inclusive Allies?
Allyship is about confronting othering, ‘isms’, privilege, prejudice. Allyship is about standing up and speaking out on social justice issues.
I found a great website called Diversability which encourages us to think differently about allyship and I have lifted the below advice from The Guide to Allyship.
How to be an Inclusive Ally:
Take on the struggle as your own.
Stand up, even when you feel scared.
Transfer the benefits of your privilege to those who lack it.
Acknowledge that even though you feel pain, the conversation is not about you.
Be willing to own your mistakes and de-centre yourself.
Understand that your education is up to you and no one else.
Being an Inclusive Ally is about white people, straight people and able-bodied people being aware of our privilege. We need to do the work, the inner work, to reflect, to learn and to grow. As an Inclusive Ally there are different roles we can take on to move the conversation and the agenda for diversity, equity and inclusion forward.
7 ways to be an Inclusive Ally:
The Sponsor
The Champion
The Amplifier
The Advocate
The Scholar
The Upstander
The Confidant
Allyship will not always be comfortable. We need to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. We need to check our privilege and realise that our momentary discomfort is not comparable to the long-term discomfort that people live with. Trauma and tragedy are the lived experienced for many people.
The last few months have been emotionally-charged. Our colleagues, our communities and our children who come from diverse backgrounds have potentially been deeply affected by the tragic murder of George Flood. I saw potentially as we cannot assume that everyone has experienced and responded to the most recent Black Lives Matter incident in the same way. To deepen your understanding I recommend reading this article on How to be an Ally During Times of Tragedy.
Becoming and being an Inclusive Ally requires intention, commitment and action. We need to lean in to this space, no matter how hard, how painful and how uncomfortable it is.
What do we do to be Inclusive Allies?
THE DO’S
Do be open to listening
Do be aware of your implicit biases
Do your research to learn more about the history of the struggle in which you are participating
Do the inner work to figure out a way to acknowledge how you participate in oppressive systems
Do the outer work and figure out how to change the oppressive systems
Do use your privilege to amplify (digitally and in-person) historically suppressed voices
Do learn how to listen and accept criticism with grace, even if it’s uncomfortable
Do the work every day to learn how to be a better ally
THE DON’TS
Do not expect to be taught or shown. Take it upon yourself to use the tools around you to learn and answer your questions
Do not participate for the gold medal in the “Oppression Olympics” (you don’t need to compare how your struggle is “just as bad as” a marginalized person’s)
Do not behave as though you know best
Do not take credit for the labour of those who are marginalized and did the work before you stepped into the picture
Do not assume that every member of an under-invested community feels oppressed
For teachers and those working in education we need to consider the impact we can have in our classrooms and our schools. We need to be the change in teaching tolerance and acceptance, we need to celebrate diversity and create a sense of belonging for all identities. We need to ensure that our environments and physically and psychologically safe for everybody. We need to have the big conversations about the world to equip everybody with the knowledge, skills and values to navigate society.
There are 10 Things You Can Do to be an Ally:
Listen
Get educated
Get involved
Show up
Speak up
Intervene
Welcome discomfort
Learn from your mistakes
Stay engaged
Donate
There are some tips here on how to be a teaching tolerance ally here.
For leaders, being an ally is a journey. Even the most inclusive leaders admit they have room to grow. The work never stops, yet it is your choice to start, to practise, and to be better every single day. There is a training programme here you may be interested in on leading like an ally.
Following our most recent Diverse Educators conference in June we have a series of free training videos of the event available for staff CPD on the topics of Landscape, Curriculum, Culture and Leadership: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3MxxcAlAy__4H5GiygV7fA?view_as=subscriber
I have also started a series of weekly webcasts with a HR and D&I specialist called #FastForwardDiversityInclusion available here: https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/fastforwarddiversityinclusion-a-weekly-webcast-tickets-111397462810
My #DiverseEdPledge from the event is to be a better Inclusive Ally. Let’s all be upstanders for what is right, not bystanders for what is wrong.
Don't Tuck in Your Labels
Written by Bennie Kara
Founder of Diverse Educators
Written January 7, 2018.
I am the woman that always has a clothes label sticking out somewhere. In any given day, some kindly person will reach behind me and tuck it in. And I, without fail, will apologise for that label and the fact that someone had to decide what to do with me.
You see, clothes labels are really useful things. They tell you what to do with the item. How to take care of it – how to fix the item if it is damaged in some way. It stays there as a reminder that the item needs to be nurtured. Lots of us become irritated by them – how many times have we cut the label out because we can’t forget it is there – perhaps it’s rubbing against our skin, making us feel uncomfortable. I do it all the time with the vain hope that people will not have to fix me up and make me presentable.
I have made many jokes over the years at various conference about winning the competition on how many labels I have. We categorise people in so many different ways and I have seen it as a laughing matter. So when I was thinking about my labels, I decided to create a pie chart of the make up of me. Mostly just in case my Maths teacher is watching – my Maths GCSE started with 30 mins of me panicking because I had forgotten how to draw a pie chart.
So if you want to see what my clothes label says – this is me.
It took a long time to decide how much of me I could allocate to the different labels. I am a woman. Quite considerably so, according the number here. I am also equally Asian. It gets harder when I have to decide just how much of me is on the LBGT spectrum. I define as bisexual and have been in a relationship with a woman for a long time. All of these categories I have become comfortable with – while I know they present me with challenges, I have spent my life getting to know them.
I have come to know myself as a Gryffindor too. This is not in jest. I will not have anyone disagree. I’ve taken the test.
It is my last label that is more recent and perhaps the one I struggle with the most. I learned not long ago that I have hearing loss in both ears and it is more pronounced in my left ear. I will be wearing a hearing aid soon to help me function in loud spaces, to help me understand what people are saying when I can’t see their faces.
I mean, I know I’m a woman and can’t lift heavy things or be in charge of a boardroom. I know that I am Asian and therefore should probably be teaching Science and not English. I know that I am bisexual and this means I am greedy/just not willing to admit I am gay.
But I was not prepared to be disabled, albeit in a small way. In some ways I have to confront here my own misgivings about having a hearing impairment in a profession that is built on listening to children in order to teach them. I sat in a car park and cried. Because this female, Asian, bi person didn’t want another label – especially one that could literally mean people think I cannot do my job. How many glass ceilings for me?
It has taken time to adjust to it. It chafed. I could feel it rubbing. But I have left it there because it gives people another way to know me.
Some people will say: if we take away all labels, we can just be people. I absolutely agree. I want to be able to teach without any of those. At the risk of sounding like a below the line Daily Mail commentator, stop going on about your labels – it creates the victim complex. It’s not important to the way you teach, so just shut up and get on with it. Identity politics creates resentment. I resent you and your labels.
I don’t think any of us walk around with our labels on our sleeves. If teaching is a profession in which your authentic self is required for children and adults alike to connect and know you, if it a profession in which people are the centre then I do not want to lie, either overtly or by omission.
The average 18-44 year old lies twice a day. I am sure that you are sitting there thinking – well that’s low. I can smash that statistic by 9am in the morning on any given school day. But the lies I tell because I have to are now starting to grate.
There are things I can’t say, choose not to say, places I won’t ever visit with my partner – and it is exhausting making all of those decisions about who I can be when I am simultaneously juggling the demands of the curriculum, behaviour, marking, meetings, paperwork. Wouldn’t it just be easier for me and more real for the students if I didn’t have to think about my pronouns so carefully? Or worry about who is going to see me with my partner in the local area?
I spoke recently about the curriculum and how having diverse voices delivering content doesn’t take away from what we teach our students – when we teach the Ramayana or about Malian women’s contributions to local industry, we are not saying do not teach about Wordsworth or Dickens. Perhaps as a female, Asian, bisexual, disabled Gryffindor, I can enrich rather than detract. Hiring me, allowing me to be free within a role, means a better education. Not because I am better. But because I can bring my knowledge and still teach yours really quite well. There is enough oxygen for all of our stories, told with pride. Authenticity in teachers allows students to understand humanity in all of its guises. We actively prevent learning when we lie, when we omit.
I have seen this quotation many times and it occurs to me that I no longer see it as being about other people. I see it as being about myself and about all of us that walk in different shoes. My silence about about me is collusion. I am colluding with the oppressor. It is unjust that I should be quiet, tuck in my labels to make everyone else feel comfortable, staff, students, parents alike. In remaining silent and not celebrating or sharing all of me as I am, I am complicit.
How can any of these things happen when we are silent?
I am not asking anyone to stand up and shout from the rooftops about their sexuality, disability, gender or heritage. But I am asking you to stand, metaphorically speaking. And speak about your truths without fear. And perhaps, when you feel brave enough because you have a room full of people willing to support you – to act, in the way that makes you feel that you are authentic.
So, if you see me again and my labels are sticking out. Maybe don’t tuck them in.
Closing keynote: Diverse Educators Conference, 6th January 2018
