Those words began to inform the ways in which I try to support other marginalized people-making their fights my own because that's the only way forward.īlack people do not need allies. When I asked him about allies, he said, 'I think one has to even abandon the phrase 'ally' and understand that you are not helping someone in a particular struggle the fight is yours.' I mulled his words over for weeks because they were so pointed and powerful. I am reminded of a conversation I had with Ta-Nehisi Coates (opens in new tab) in 2015, upon the release of his book Between the World and Me (opens in new tab). They ask for guidance, as if black people, in this instance, have the solution to the ongoing problem of systemic racism, as if we have access to a secret trove of wisdom for overcoming oppression.

This is no way to live, this is not freedom, always holding your breath, always feeling like a target.īut in the wake of last week's violence and unrest, I've seen what often happens during difficult times-people who consider themselves allies, well-meaning people, to be clear, ask what they can do to help. It's a way for people to say and demonstrate that they care and (want to) help even if they cannot fully understand the lived experiences of marginalized people. For white people, being an ally to the black community is often framed as a way forward. This is no way to live, this is not freedom, always holding your breath, always feeling like a target, always worrying about the men and women you love, hoping they won't run into a police officer who cannot control his fear.Īs is often the case during times of social upheaval, most of us are wondering how we can productively contribute to positive change when change feels impossible.

Roxane gay the audacity