Post-Pride Month: Renewing Our Allyship
“No one should ever feel like my student feels…that the entire world is against them. Yet, many individuals do, for various reasons, and this current wave of bigotry is one of them. Its crucial that we recognize the connections between these experiences, the mental health crisis in our country, and particularly the impact it has on our children. It is all interconnected…WE are all interconnected.”
As I pondered over potential blog topics this month (leadership, strategy, education?), a persistent thought lingered. The conclusion of Pride Month this year has left me, and countless others in the LGBTQIA+ community with a sense of unease instead of the usual joy and visibility. The impact of current happenings reach every aspect of my personal and professional life, and it extends to many others as well. It goes beyond one-off employment laws, school policies, or representation in banned books. It encompasses the collective effect of all these issues and many others combined. And if you're uncertain about how it affects you or someone you know, let me assure you it does. You can try to insulate yourself as much as you want, but it is certain that these issues are impacting someone in your personal life, your work environment, your children's schools, and/or the communities you reside in. Allow me to explain.
My Shifting Perspective
As you may know, I came out way later than most, in my 30s, after a 10-year marriage to a man and after becoming a parent to three children. If you're curious about that journey, I'm always open to discussing it and sharing how I discovered my truth, leading me to now feel freer and to having the most amazing wife and blended family I could have ever hoped for. While that's not the focal point of this blog post, the context is crucial because, unlike many, I had the privilege of navigating the world as someone who appeared “straight passing” for many years.
In hindsight, it was an easy experience in that regard. Every door was open, I never worried about my children's well-being, questioned whether colleagues treated me differently due to my identity, or wondered if politicians, clergy, and corporations were waging a war against me. It's truly remarkable to now find myself in a different space where all these aspects are part of the daily experience for me and every member of the LGBTQIA+ community. I'm still the same person in many ways, but the rules have changed significantly. To say the least, it is unique to have fully experienced a set of privileges, and then not to just walk in, but to truly lace up and call a different set of shoes…a more comfortable and true pair of shoes…your own. And that is what leads me to the essence of this article.
The shift I just described has allowed me to view the world from a very different perspective, and it has forced me to recognize and confront my earned and unearned privileges. It has required me to experience deeply some of the disadvantages LGBTQIA+ folks and other minority identities in our country live with every day. Most importantly, it has allowed me to find more of my own blind spots (though I still have many) and it has amplified my capacity for empathy and love for others across differences.
In the past few months alone, I've mentored a college student forced to reject a full scholarship to a top-tier graduate school due to specific state laws that would likely harm him personally. I then coached that same student as he figured out an alternate plan because coming out and staying near his family was also no longer an option. In another coaching relationship, a trans-identifying college student recently shared with me, "I wake up every day, and the whole world is against me all day long. It's too much." This week, I was personally shocked when my daughter's fourth-grade classmate told her she was "weird for having two moms” (really…it's 2023). Her confidence in what she believes is “normal” was shaken. During this year’s Pride Month, I found myself in a large, beautiful southern city where I only felt comfortable holding my wife's hand in public if we were at an establishment that visibly supported the LGBTQIA+ community even though we were surrounded by close friends. The list goes on, but I'll stop there.
Instead, I believe that right now, what I need, and what anyone else who is part of the LGBTQIA+ community needs, can be summarized in three crucial points. This list is by no means exhaustive, but it serves as a starting point.
Be authentic. It's disheartening to witness mega-corporations slowly retract their rainbow-waving support due to the fear of losing profit. This is overly simplified, but go with me on this. I've basically observed three categories of people emerge recently: 1) the unwavering supporters, 2) the haters, and 3) the "I'll support you until it gets too hard or impacts me personally" crowd. Please, whatever you do, don't be in the third category. At the very, very least, be like that terrible Colorado web designer who upfront states, "We don't like your kind!" Believe me, I have no desire to give you my business any more than you want it. So, just don't leave us guessing. The whiplash from a sudden change of stance or the shrinking away as soon as the spotlight hits is unbearable. The last thing we need is another Bud Light beer can that doesn’t know where it stands in the world. And if you do choose to support, be prepared for the heat, pressure, and discomfort that may come your way. That is true authentic allyship.
Be open. Ask questions, educate yourself, and be willing to acknowledge your blind spots. Despite my personal experiences, I continue to realize how much I don’t know about the lived experiences of others within the LGBTQIA+ community. For example, even though I have always been an ally to the transgender community, recently engaging in extended discussions with someone navigating the weight of their transitioning identity in our nation's current climate was a different experience. Listening deeply, seeking to understand, and believing their truth at every turn raised my own level of empathy and my allyship significantly. I encourage you to also seek out people with different lived experiences from within the LGBTQIA+ community who are willing to engage in first hand conversations. Furthermore, when you do, make sure you're ready to listen. Even if you've been queer your whole life, I guarantee you'll learn something new that will further inform your own allyship.
Be both realistic and radically hopeful. This requires adopting a both/and mentality. LGBTQIA+ community members are acutely aware of the threats to their safety, rights, love, gender identity, and sexuality. In 2023 alone, over 530 anti-LGBT bills and laws have been proposed across the United States (and it’s only July). Please don't be naive enough to reassure someone (as I've heard one too many times recently) that everything is "fine" or "much better" than it used to be. We strive for improvement, but it's crucial to remain cautious and concerned, or to feel frightened. Simultaneously, nothing in this world has ever progressed without radical hope. In times like these, we must look each other in the eye and say, "I've got you" and mean it. The LGBTQIA+ individuals in your life need to hear that you are willing to stand up and stand beside them. They need reassurance that things will get better and that you, as their ally, are aware of the deep villainization and painful rhetoric going on in our country and how it may affect them and their psychological safety.
No one should ever feel like my student feels…that the entire world is against them. Yet, many individuals do, for various reasons, and this current wave of bigotry is one of them. Its crucial that we recognize the connections between these experiences, the mental health crisis in our country, and particularly the impact it has on our children. It is all interconnected…WE are all interconnected. Take a moment to check on the LGBTQIA+ families in your child's class, reach out and inquire about your co-worker's well-being, and remind your best friend (even though they know it) that their identity matters to you and that you acknowledge it.
If we start with this, the leadership, the strategy, and the education will all start to flow a little easier.