Allies Not Heroes

The road to allyship rarely involves leaping tall buildings in a single bound or a secret batcave!

Being a superhero seems amazing right (even as a grown-up)? Saving the day right in the nick of time. People showering you with adulation. The cape!

But maybe, just maybe, the world doesn’t need us to always play the part of the hero and recognize that we might be part of the bigger story; someone else’s story where they are the protagonist. And all it takes is for us to stand in solidarity.

This is where I’d like to share about “allyship” as a direct response to hero worship. Being an ally means being in the middle or at the end of the march rather than needing to lead each one. To cheer along the parade routes. To be part of the crowd lining up along the reflecting pool and not the one giving the speech at the top of the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

We’ve all seen the movies, read about inequalities (whether real or perceived), and understand who we are and what we believe. However, the heroic trope of a saviour or prince or knight being needed to swoop in and save the day is, in reality, a false narrative. How can we re-learn what it’s like to be supportive without demanding the spotlight? And how do we allow space for us to join the conversation without the need to demand attention or a pat on the back? Here are a few things to consider as we re-define to ourselves what it means to truly be an ally:

Put away the cape

Far too often, especially my fellow men, have been raised to think of ourselves in heroic roles. There are dozens of literary themes and narratives that lend themselves to this, and our history books are full of these stories. But when it comes to allyship, we aren’t discovering a new land or setting foot on a new world. It’s important to understand the space we are entering. In fact, the world where you are entering into as an ally has been carrying on for years, decades even. Let’s do better to look and highlight what already exists, amplifying those names and accomplishments, and acknowledging them when we build. Don’t erase them from the story to champion a new “better” approach.

Stop looking for the movie/Instagram moment

To be an ally requires consistency. Showing up or, moreso, not walking away. It does not require a movie montage or a huge a-ha moment. Racism doesn’t end because Tony Lip is written in a way that he saves Dr. Donald Shirley or because a white teacher shows up in the ‘hood to all of a sudden inspire their minority students. Allyship rallies around those doing the existing work and being great teammates, not needing to recast the narrative as “look how amazing I am.” It may go without saying, but I highly recommend that you don’t post a photo to social media highlighting your impact on X person’s life but rather highlighting the person and the space they occupy.

Cut the “Not All….” $#!&

And with that — let’s eliminate the “Not all men,“ “Not all white people,” “Not all rich people,” “Not all athletes,” personalized defenses. They do nothing but create an environment where those we are trying to share allyship with are cast in doubt. We all can see which side of history each of our acquaintances will fall and therefore the justification of “Not all…” simply eliminates your work as an ally and puts you squarely in the face of the focus. Allyship at the end of the day means acknowledging where privilege lies (define this as something you take for granted that causes others concern — not that you are the Instagram person living your ‘best life in real life’) and thinking through another lens.

A personal example of this is that I am a 6’4 man of colour, which means that whether I like it or not, people can sometimes be worried about me walking behind them on the sidewalk. It is not uncommon in my daily commutes to have women tighten the hold on their purses when they see me walking towards them, and even deliberately cross the street when they notice me walking behind them. My adjustment, to slow down and create an increased amount of space, serves a dual purpose. One, it allows someone who has to worry more than I do about being attacked breathing room to not see me as a threat. I acknowledge by my action that men can be a threat to women by simply walking down the street. The second is, though, that I also protect myself, because I’m aware that a tall, dark man walking down the street is now stereotypically and thus instinctually seen by others as a threat, and I know that there could also be a risk to my own safety. Both exist in the same space. And we need to have an active mindset to notice the nuances at play without again making it about us. I don’t need to say “Hey — I’m going to create space so you feel comfortable” just as the woman does not need to turn around and share, “Don’t worry — I don’t see you as a threat!”

So let’s recap -

• Put away the cape and be comfortable listening especially when uncomfortable. Avoid the hero-centered narrative and looking for the pat on the back or the damsel in distress thanking you for your cape.
• Stop looking for the next selfie moment and remember that allyship isn’t about you — support and be the best teammate possible as an ally
• Never “not all….” anything — don’t feel the need to point out the exception but rather look for the overall trend

In closing, I’d be remiss if I didn’t share my favorite quote…

“Shallow understanding from people of goodwill is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection” Martin Luther King, Jr.

Allyship — and the need for it — exists everywhere. In fact, we often already find ways to do it with our close friends and family. And it is also needed in your neighborhood, your school, house of worship, or workplace — wherever you are, being aware of other peoples’ experiences will only contribute to the environment around you. Increasingly, companies — including Buildium, where I work — are taking a hard and active look at how to cultivate a culture of allyship in the workplace.

About the author

Shaun Jayachandran is focused on using sport for development and social impact through the lens of gender and education rates. Born in Canada to the son of an orphan girl from India, he was born and raised in Calgary, Alberta, Canada before immigrating to the US while in high school. He is the founder and president of Crossover Basketball and Scholars Academy, a non-profit organization increasing gender equity and education rates in India for undeserved marginalized communities while using basketball as our vehicle of change. A TEDx speaker, Shaun is part of the John Wooden coaching tree where he has combined the pyramid of success with his ideas and passion towards education, coaching, and opportunity into an international nonprofit that has partnered with the UN and been endorsed by the WNBA Players Association. He is also an on-boarding specialist at Buildium and really loves reading non-fiction books and traveling to new urban environments.