Reframing privilege: a guide to allyship

“To those who say people take things far too personally… I call you complacent.” 

I know there are plenty of folks who roll their eyes and complain about oversensitivity when a minority identity claims discrimination or oppression. But I would like you to take a moment and consider where these cries of disenchantment are coming from, take a moment and reframe what it means for someone to speak aloud subjectivities that are often deemed “irrational,” and what it means to have someone earnestly stand by their side. 

A few weeks ago, my brother and I got into a huge fight with my father about an uncle who, in the past, has made several problematic comments on a multitude of issues concerning xenophobia, sexism, and so on. While a darling man, learning that he condones and spreads this general ethos was unnerving, insulting even—to see this shame proliferated while simultaneously washing away his experiences and identity as an immigrant of colour in order to appease the dominating white masses. In return, our frustrations were met by my father denouncing us as ungrateful and lazy for the way we were carrying ourselves, between our relatives and in public, as he believed our response was a stain on all he had built for us.  

My father dropped out of school at 15 years old, worked several menial jobs to provide us with food, shelter, and a pathway to immigrate to Canada to create a better life. When he first came to this country, he received hate and abuse from all corners. He tolerated xenophobic remarks that marked him as stupid, crass, and greedy. He has allowed, and to this day still allows, his coworkers, clients, and management to speak down to him because of his “otherness.” As much as I hate his toleration of abuse, I understand that it was the only way for him to get us where we are today. My brother and I made the mistake of saying that we wanted something else. We didn’t want to be the board people threw darts at as they pleased. We wanted to speak out when we saw injustices happen, because there just had to be a chance at change out there. Not just for ourselves, but also for those around us. 

When minorities speak out against the marginalization they have or do experience, we aren’t playing the victim. We are taking agency over our narratives and throwing out that popular misnomer of “victimhood.” These experiences often come from incredibly personal spaces. No one is simply speaking out for fun or for the sake of disturbance. It’s about railing against what is institutionalized within society, as well as against accepted cultural norms of the places where we are raised, and of the people we have been raised by. We are speaking out against what we have been taught to accept not just by our peers, but also by our families and friends.  

There is no small price to pay for speaking out. We risk being disowned by people and spaces. We give up opportunities in work and school. We give up the seemingly comfortable padding of acceptance, because even when we thrive, it isn’t the same as when someone white and male thrives. Everyone has baggage, but our baggage is marked out in the open by our sex or the colour of our skin. It is a sacrifice in the hopes of building something better. But we need more than one of our own to speak about the disadvantages our communities face. It is important that our words are given the chance to be heard, and that the space we co-exist in is shared.   

To those who say people take things far too personally when it comes to politics and unwittingly follow an ingrained set of societally accepted behaviours and cultural norms, I call you complacent. You allow yourselves to abuse a system that puts others at a greater disadvantage, not just financially, but also mentally and physically. We need your help. We need you to listen to what we have to say and what we have been through. To speak alongside us, not against or over us. To ask and answer uncomfortable questions, because that’s how you address the world’s wrongs and work toward finding a solution. We need you to stand by our sides and demand better. But first, it’s important to address the set of privileges you have over the rest, because you can’t mend a gap unless you know where it begins.