BY ALISE CHAFFINS
While driving or walking through the neighborhoods of Morgantown, you may have seen colorful yard signs declaring “Proud Ally.”
Whenever there is a discussion about what it means to be a good ally to a marginalized group, it is important to ask those who are a part of that group. Certainly, there is more to it than a rainbow sign.
In honor of Pride Month, The Dominion Post reached out to local members of the LGBTQ+ community, to ask what allyship means to them.
“When I think of an ally, I don’t think of people holding signs during marches and getting pepper sprayed by police,” Morgantown chef Andy Mistead said. “I think of the neighbors who fly Pride flags, the people willing to seek understanding with an open view of the world and want to make it a better place. Those who are willing to confront their privilege and acknowledge that life is not as easy for folks like me.
“Most importantly, I look for those people willing to step up in their daily lives — correct others when I’m misgendered, go to the bathroom with me if I feel unsafe, vote for people who are not dangerous to my community. Being an ally, to me, doesn’t have to be heroic, I just want to be seen as a fellow human.”
Anna Hicks, of Fairmont, had similar thoughts.
“An ally is someone who speaks up on behalf of LGBTQ+ folks even when they’re the only one in the room who has that opinion,” Hicks said. “It’s easy to be an ally in an already-supportive space like Pride; it’s much more difficult and a much truer example of allyship when you are surrounded by folks who don’t already agree with you.
“I think of my mom at her conservative church; even though she may be the only person in the room who’s an ally (and there are definitely no out queer folks around), she always speaks up to challenge homophobic and transphobic rhetoric.”
Action is key, Morgantown resident Courtney Rose said — but it doesn’t have to be loud.
“For me, an impactful ally is a quiet role. Going to parades and marches is appreciated, but advocating for the community through small everyday interactions means so much more to me.
“Carrying the weight of micro-aggressions in everyday life as a queer person is exhausting, and if an ally can lift that weight for even a second, it’s a relief.”
Rose detailed some of the seemingly small actions that make a big difference.
“… This could be anything from correcting when someone is misgendered, calling out homophobic jokes, getting educated (and not at the expense of a queer person), voting in our best interest, identifying their privilege, and being open to hearing us and our experience. These are not loud acts, but they make a big impact.”
Trans advocate and press relations manager for Advocates for Trans Equality Ash Orr was pointed in his definition — and that definition requires a voice.
“If you claim to be an ally, you cannot simply stand by and watch,” Orr said. “You must speak up. Now, more than ever, it is crucial to vocally support trans rights and oppose the attacks on the trans community.
“Allies need to challenge disinformation wherever they encounter it — on social media, at family gatherings, or during workplace conversations.”
That voice must carry over to the ballot box, as well, Orr said.
“Those who truly care about the trans community need to reach out to legislators pushing these harmful anti-trans bills and demand an end to them. Allies must affirm trans lives, fostering dialogues that embrace gender diversity and counter gender policing.”
Allyship is necessary everywhere — whether it be “at local school board hearings, city halls, or state legislatures.”
Standing alongside the LGBTQ+ in its fights for equity foster change, Orr said — and understanding.
“As allies, you can make a difference — your trans friends and family are listening, and we need you to speak up and stand with us, showing that trans people deserve to live in peace just like everyone else.”
DeeDee McIntosh sees allyship as something important not only for those outside of the LGBTQ community, but for those within as well.
“I am a binary transgender woman, and while that’s important to me personally, it can’t stop there,” McIntosh said. “The journey to be who I am was long, but the road was paved by so many gay, lesbian, bi and trans people who fought many battles socially, culturally, politically and medically for me to get here. These are my allies, along with those who are not any of those who know we are each individuals, and no one has the right to take that away.”
McIntosh said that means speaking out, speaking up, and protecting others from harm. It’s about being, and creating, a safe space for people to flourish as their authentic selves.
Allyship is constant, McIntosh added — it’s not something that one can turn on and off.
“I never leave home without a Pride flag pin … more so others can see they are with someone who cares, who says they aren’t alone.
“I show Pride by being proud. I am LGBTQ. I am a trans woman. And I am ally for all.”
