There are so few good allies, we can barely see you. There are so many bad, White folks, they cancel out everything allies do to fight racism twice. We barely talk about our allies because it feels like what they do is ineffective, but they don’t stop. Our allies never stop motivating us, fighting with and for us, supporting us, and loving us.
Our few good allies see the racist cops and know it ain’t always two-sides to a story. Sometimes it’s just the White side of the story. We are angry. We are tired. We are weak, but we ain’t ever giving up. Our allies know what these days feel like. I just want to show them so appreciation and say thank you.
Thank you to the few good White and non-Black men and women who sacrifice their lives, time, money, and emotions to fight a fight you don’t have to. We know we cannot change improve race relations without White people, and you know it too.
Allies are special.
Those few good White allies are like precious metals surrounded by billions of tiny granules of dirt. Like diamonds, allies are highly sought after gems and valuable to Black people fighting to achieve equal rights and justice. These kinds of allies are rare and so very hard to find.
Good White allies willing to stand up for the good of any person, let alone a Black one. They don’t flip-flop either — one week they are an ally and the next they are antagonistic. Allies are dependable, reliable and consistent in their thinking. Consistency is what Black people need, and good White allies know this.
The few wonderful White allies I know don’t tell us what we see or how we misconstrued what we saw with our own eyes, in our own shoes, inside of our own Black skin. They don’t make excuses for the behavior of those “other” people. Good allies see what we see, they call it like it is (the Black “is” not the White one) they feel what we feel, and they agree that there are lots of bad White folks. In fact, they feel like minorities too among the people within their same ethnic group because being fair is so foreign and so difficult to most White people.
Allies don’t make promises they know America can’t keep. They don’t tell us not to be angry, because they know the America we know, they see the same America we see. Good allies know White people and they know they aren’t willing to change — but they fight, anyway. That’s why I love them so.
Good allies protect. Their motto is do no more harm. They get it.
The few good White and non-Black allies fearlessly march with Black people because they know it’s the right thing to do. Our allies understand that we’re all better when we’re all better. They don’t require a dissertation, videos, or other evidence before they believe the evils that White people unleash upon us. They know their Whites just like we do.
The few good White men and women allies on the team don’t require constant education on what is and what isn’t racist and they need not say not all white people (NAWP) because they know they know they are one of those good White people. A few good White men and women don’t have to toot their own horns. Good allies are modest and understand their roles in this fight against racism is to lead from the side or behind, not from the front.
Allies know they can’t speak better about our pain than we can.
The few good White men and women aren’t justice Twitter and Facebook social justice warriors. They challenge police in person; they vote like Black people and understand America’s racist institutions and systems can’t change without their presence. The best allies aren’t tone policing Black folks or attempting to silence them because they understand America’s history of silencing, talking over, and speaking for Blacks and other minorities. Good allies understand doing so is domestic violence, like a domestic abuser trying to silence a victim. Black silence means White power. Allies get that.
Our allies understand the millions of reasons for our pain and anger. Instead of asking us how we can be nicer to them, they comfort us. Instead of centering White, allies center us.
Allies fight for little ghetto boys and corporate CEOs.
Good allies mind their own business and aren’t afraid or threatened by the color of our skin. The presence of our Black bodies don’t offend them. Allies see color and they welcome the diversity. They don’t police us, nor do they use 9–1–1 as their personal concierges when they want us out of their spaces.
We love our good allies.
Good allies don’t get tangled up in their underwear because they are corrected by us and POC when they do something or say something that can be perceived as racist/offensive because they understand their White skin gives them permission to act and say certain things the way it did their ancestors. They know they are descendants of people who engaged in (and still engage in) violence, oppression, cruelty, inequality, slavery, and murder. Allies spend the rest of their lives trying to make things right for us, with us understanding the privileges and rights White folks are afforded — we aren’t.
Allies learn from us, they apologize when they are wrong, and we grow together.
Good allies are team players. The letter “I” in their ally is silent.
Good White people get drowned out by stupid, ignorant, loud, slick mouthed, bigoted, and self-destructive White people.
Good White allies aren’t questioning our stories, asking us to be nice to them, or playing semantics games with words to make their shallow, racist points. Allies understand the importance of moments like these. Allies treat us with respect and like we’re their equals.
To the White allies who check racists White folks, I thank you.
To the allies who have learned when to speak and when to remain silent, we thank you.
For the allies who understand that Black Lives Matter and that All Lives Bullshit is racist, we appreciate you.
To the allies who know that while your family may not have owned slaves, all White people in America are enjoying fruits of racism and slavery, I appreciate you understanding that.
For allies who know you get everywhere with sugar and nowhere with shit, here’s to you. I salute you.
To our allies quick to come to the rescue of Black people arguing with stupid and racist White people, thank you. I know how hard you had to work to get to that point.
To the allies who know better and do better and who have left darkness for the light, thank you.
To the allies who understand the purposes of racism and racial discrimination and understand structural and institutional racism, thank you.
To those of you who understand this walk isn’t easy but you do it anyway with love and compassion, thank you. I wish there were 10 million more allies like you.
To our allies challenging systems, calling out politicians, and educating White people who won’t listen to Black people because of their ingrained implicit biases won’t allow them to listen to us, I appreciate you.
To the allies taking part in painful discussions, taking classes, reading books to learn about your role in institutional racism, I thank you. It takes a lifetime to learn about racism in America. You’re never finished. There is always something new to learn.
To the allies who not only give us the freedom and liberty to be angry, express ourselves, and grieve, they also grieve with us, thank you. ❤️
To all the allies who chose a unique path and were shunned for it because it wasn’t the White thing to do, bless you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. In every great civil rights movement, there were White people who got it.
Thank you to all of my ally followers who come to learn, grow, support, and to listen to me — even when it hurts. I appreciate it.
Marley K. in Quarantine 2020