Throughout my life, I’ve never felt compelled to offer insincere praise just to gain approval. I was raised with the principle of treating others as I wish to be treated—while also understanding a difficult truth: not everyone will like you. Some will resent your intelligence, your skin, your smile, your hair—anything they can use to justify their prejudice. But it is not our responsibility to carry the weight of changing someone else’s conditioning.
My mother used to say, “You don’t have to like me, but you do have to respect me.” If someone requires you to shrink yourself so they can feel comfortable or superior, that is not a friend, ally, or partner in any meaningful sense.
True allyship is about walking alongside those whose growth has been stifled. The Civil Rights Movement exemplified this. Have we fully acknowledged the courage of the Jews, Asians, Indigenous peoples, Latinos, LGBTQIA2S+ individuals, and White allies who marched with Black Americans—knowing the risks, yet recognizing that the cause was greater than themselves?
Thank you for sharing this — your words hold a powerful and necessary truth.
Yes: true allyship cannot be conditional, transactional, or rooted in comfort. It requires people to risk proximity to discomfort, power, and consequence — not simply offer performative support when it's convenient or socially advantageous.
I also appreciate your naming of those who stood alongside during the Civil Rights Movement — and it’s equally important that we continue to tell those full stories honestly, including how many marginalized communities have historically been pitted against each other by systems of white supremacy, even while some individuals bravely chose solidarity.
Allyship, at its core, is a practice of relational accountability, not selective association.
It means walking with, not speaking for.
It means being willing to lose power, not simply borrow proximity to it.
And you’re absolutely right — we are not responsible for carrying the emotional labor of other people’s unhealed conditioning.
Thank you for holding space for this conversation — this is the ongoing work.
Throughout my life, I’ve never felt compelled to offer insincere praise just to gain approval. I was raised with the principle of treating others as I wish to be treated—while also understanding a difficult truth: not everyone will like you. Some will resent your intelligence, your skin, your smile, your hair—anything they can use to justify their prejudice. But it is not our responsibility to carry the weight of changing someone else’s conditioning.
My mother used to say, “You don’t have to like me, but you do have to respect me.” If someone requires you to shrink yourself so they can feel comfortable or superior, that is not a friend, ally, or partner in any meaningful sense.
True allyship is about walking alongside those whose growth has been stifled. The Civil Rights Movement exemplified this. Have we fully acknowledged the courage of the Jews, Asians, Indigenous peoples, Latinos, LGBTQIA2S+ individuals, and White allies who marched with Black Americans—knowing the risks, yet recognizing that the cause was greater than themselves?
Thank you for sharing this — your words hold a powerful and necessary truth.
Yes: true allyship cannot be conditional, transactional, or rooted in comfort. It requires people to risk proximity to discomfort, power, and consequence — not simply offer performative support when it's convenient or socially advantageous.
I also appreciate your naming of those who stood alongside during the Civil Rights Movement — and it’s equally important that we continue to tell those full stories honestly, including how many marginalized communities have historically been pitted against each other by systems of white supremacy, even while some individuals bravely chose solidarity.
Allyship, at its core, is a practice of relational accountability, not selective association.
It means walking with, not speaking for.
It means being willing to lose power, not simply borrow proximity to it.
And you’re absolutely right — we are not responsible for carrying the emotional labor of other people’s unhealed conditioning.
Thank you for holding space for this conversation — this is the ongoing work.