top of page
Image by Duncan Shaffer

Types of Allyship

Aspirational

     In the face of racism and oppression, allies have used songs, raps, poems, spoken word and other verbal art pieces to vocalize the need to remain hopeful, and to engage in actions that can constructively mitigate the issues at hand. 

​

     Through reference to “the land”, allies craft a narrative in which marginalized communities can live in a safe environment without being subject to racial prejudice and a target of hate crimes. Amanda Gorman’s poem “Fury and Faith” imagines a land that is “liberated not lawless / we create a future that is free not flawless.” Systemic racism requires continuous, dedicated effort to change, but through taking gradual steps, our present actions lay the groundwork for building a society with a more positive change in mentality and personal freedom for future generations to come. In Caitlin Cook’s “Friday Morning Everything Sucks”, Cook sings about how on one hand, she “feels really stupid about trying to write an upbeat, wholesome, hopeful song”, but also recognizes that she is actively trying to show support as an ally by recognizing the changes made on an individual and social level: “and the city of Ferguson just elected its first black mayor / and her name is Ella Jones/ […] / and Rahul Dubey sheltered 80 protesters in his DC home who were escaping more police brutality / and 17 year old Simone’s leading peaceful protests in San Francisco / and 16 year old Stefan is doing the same in Detroit.” Cook uses a continued list to describe all the figures who have advocated for anti-racism themselves and helped protect the lives of other advocates in their own ways.

 

     Allies also emphasize the importance of standing in support of marginalized folks and calling for unity and change. Particularly, the use of the third person plural “we” is used in different ways to indicate distinctive groups in relation to collectiveness. In “Spirit Wake” by TikTok user @uisgeruithe, the poem establishes a parallel between two different “we”: the voices of Indigenous children subjected to cultural and linguistic assimilation, who express that “we are lost / We will not rest / Hear our voices / Make them confess.” Meanwhile, the same “we” in the subsequent lines reflect the voices of allies, who respond “we feel your grief / We see you weep / We hear your words” to acknowledge the children’s determination to voice out against the oppression and racial injustice that they face.  

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

 

 

     Continuing the idea of how race should not be the factor for discrimination, allies also express the need to respect each other despite differences in our racial identities. In “My Skin, Your Skin” by Joyce Fields and “What Bothers Me about Racism” by Marake W., both pieces define the idea of making a positive change through treating all skin colours fairly and equally, and expressing positivity (e.g., pride) for one's skin colour. Ghita Ouaich’s “Not Alone (Song Against Racism)” further argues that we should “forget all the borders / see past our colours and find peace within”; seeing past our racial identities as a means of division allows us to break down hatred and appreciate the different cultures in our lives. Furthermore, Natalie Layne’s “40 Days and 40 Nights” song indicates that they themselves are changing by waking up and becoming attentive to the voices of those who have been subject to systemic racism. Similarly, in “Allyship” by Don Strapzy, the creator also makes their personal stance by expressing that change can occur from oneself: “I might never see the change / but while I live I can be the change." These pieces remind us that ultimately, we are all humans living in one big, interconnected community, and racial division should be addressed through the willingness to change our own actions and ideologies in the first place. To build a united community free of prejudice and racism, we must “confront a deep-rooted history of injustice and hatred within our nation” (“I Am Coated in Melanated Skin” by Randell Adjei), and “have love and compassion for everyone's worth” (“Racism vs. Humanity” by Lari’s World). 

Image by chris robert
Image by Jason Leung

Call to Action

     One way to support the BIPOC community is through physical acts of allyship. Allies have particularly urged their audience to spread awareness on police brutality, victims of residential schools, and anti-racism movements by sharing content on social media. Other physical ways to practice allyship include joining protests, making donations to anti-racism and racial advocacy-related organizations such as Black Lives Matter (BLM). Additionally, allies can sign petitions to advocate for careful reviews on judge rulings of racially motivated hate crimes, and support the families of victims whose lives were lost to systemic racism and racial injustice. 

​

     When reviewing the verbal art pieces, we also found the recurring pattern of naming, but in the specific context of naming as a form of bringing change and an action for allies to take. This is quoted in “Stronger Together” by TikTok user @crissa_ace, which urges the audience to “Use your voice / Say his name / Rest in peace George Floyd.” But why does it matter to “say the name” of the victims of police brutality? In an article published in Pathways: A Journal of Humanistic and Social Inquiry, Lynn Saniorah Edouard explains that “separating the Black victim from their body and humanity in symbolism utilizes Black bodies and their trauma as a signifier for the white violence against the Black community, thereby erasing the victim both metaphorically and literally.” As both a narrative symbol and technique utilized in verbal art content, the victims’ names carry the weight of their suffering, lived experiences, and the racial injustice that the Black community faces as a deep-rooted issue. For allies, it is therefore especially important to understand the fundamental objective and intent in saying the names of the victims of police brutality. Saying the names of Black people who were murdered because everyone else is saying them can become performative without learning about the history behind these police brutality cases and the prevalence of racial prejudice in our social institutions. For the content creators, the call to “saying their names” in verbal art pieces enables them to emphasize the individual humanity in each of these names, and through doing so, prevents the literal and metaphorical erasure of these victims in our knowledge and social discourse. 

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

   

    Engaging in allyship can also come in a subtler, more intangible way: changing our existing mindsets about race and anti-racism, especially in confronting implicit biases and assumptions. A possible starting point is to think about our own privileges, and practice empathy for folks who face the implications of systemic racism and racial prejudice. In “Racism vs. Humanity” by Lari’s World, they express that "racism should be disconcerting, confronting, disturbing, awful", and that “when one of us hurts, we should all be hurting.” Racism is a collective issue; we shouldn’t remain complacent simply because we believe that the events in reality do not apply to us, or engage in advocacy only when it pertains to our race (even for BIPOC folks) or when we believe that it will benefit us in some way. It is also important for educators to reflect on their own possible biases. The creator of the poem “Emancipation Proclamation” emphasizes that “when [the teacher] tries to skate past the fact that our people were lynched, beaten and killed / Raise your hand and ask your teacher to elaborate on Emmett Till.” Aside from dismissing historical acts of racism, educators should also understand why it is problematic to lay the blame on marginalized groups who have historically been oppressed: “when a child is continuously targeted as a problem / As it happens all too often with Romani children or Black children / We must know that the problem is with the system itself / To other educators / Let us check our biases and let us remind ourselves that the school has to accommodate children's needs not the reverse.” Sabrina Brancato’s “Dear Teacher” urges the educators to reflect on how their own misconceptions and ideologies may potentially translate into their own teaching endeavours (classroom content), and the way they are teaching these materials (specific delivery styles and teaching practices). By prompting educators to actively correct these misconceptions, it ensures that students are learning about race-related content and the history of racism in a practical, non-sugar-coated way, and that they in turn become encouraged to identify and speak up against various forms of racism in their own lives. 

​

  Changing individual biased assumptions is also important in the contexts of understanding the genuine purpose of anti-racism social movements. TikTok user @hanacondah’s “Uprise Overdue” reminds us “don’t just fight because you hate the cops / fight because you love Black lives / BLM was never made to divide / understand the outrage and unite.” In an attempt to confront systemic racism, it is important to remember that the “fight” involves more than fighting against perpetrators of racism; more importantly, it requires demonstrating care and connecting with the Black community to support their advocacy efforts. Similarly, people should understand the inclusivity that BLM serves to uphold. In “The Black Lives That Don’t Matter to Black People”, the creator They/Them states that "Black lives can't matter unless all Black lives matter / And all Black lives includes trans.” This piece reminds us that we cannot call ourselves an advocate if we choose not to support folks with other gender identities and sexual orientations.  

​

Reference 

​

Edouard, L. S. (2021). Symbol, Signification, and Hashtags as Violence Against Black Bodies; A Comparative Analysis of Michelle Cliff’s No

     Telephone to Heaven and Claudia Rankine’s Citizen: An American Lyric. Pathways: A Journal of Humanistic and Social Inquiry, 1(3), 1–

     11. Retrieved August 13, 2022, from https://repository.upenn.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1037&context=pathways_journal. 

Image by BP Miller
Image by Erik  Lucatero

Solidarity

Throughout anti-racist verbal art videos, allies have used their platform to express solidarity with various minority groups. This can be seen explicitly through statements such as “I stand with you,” “I have your back,” and “we will fight with you.” A clear example of this can be found in a poem by TikTok user @justtwoarmys, as they say, “I’m not Black but I see you / I’m not Black but I hear you / I’m not Black, but I mourn with you / I’m not Black, but I will fight with you / Black lives matter.” As displayed in this verbal art piece, creators use explicit statements to present their stance in relation to racial movements by including “Black Lives Matter,” “Every Child Matters,” and “Stop Asian Hate” throughout their verbal art pieces. These explicit statements show support for the corresponding movements, and express solidarity by making it clear that their beliefs align with what these movements stand for.  

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

 

     Many allies have also made commitments to stand with the BIPOC community by raising awareness, listen to and uplift BIPOC voices, march in protests, and refuse to engage in friendships with racist people. Nicky Pjuk expresses this in their poem "Never Judge a Book by its Cover", saying “I can’t tell you how it feels to be Black / But please know that I have your back / I’ll walk in life with you by my side / I’ll raise your hand and smile with pride / for I have a heart and I stand with you / I’ll raise awareness and pull you through.” Dwayne Morgan’s “How to be an Ally” presents an interesting parallel to the poem by expressing the need to instead stand in front of the oppressed: “I don’t want you to stand beside me / I need you to stand in front of me / I need you on the frontlines / I need you to decide if you are okay with my oppression or willing to fight against your own power and privilege.” Nonetheless, these poems highlight the message that being an ally is not simply voicing out our support for marginalized folks (standing beside them). More than that, it involves actively learning about the historical and social contexts behind the oppression they face, and using our privileges to support and protect the safety of BIPOC communities in critical situations (standing in front of them).  

​

      Solidarity is also expressed less explicitly by acknowledging racism, white supremacy, white privilege, and the oppression that BIPOC face daily. This is demonstrated in online verbal art through statements such as “until my name is stolen, I must speak for the unheard” in Don Strapzy’s allyship rap, and “you shouldn't be treated differently because of your race or the skin colour of your face, or your ancestor’s birthplace” in Ricky Bamford's poem "Say No 2 Racism". By acknowledging unequal treatment due to racism and systemic issues, creators express their stance against racism and mark themselves as allies. Other creators convey solidarity through sympathy, empathy, and offering apologies. Some creators such as Natalie Layne and TikTok user @sophiepecoraa apologize for ignoring the oppression of the Black community in the past, and for never being able to understand the racial discrimination that Black people experience daily. Others sympathize with victims of racism, their family members, protestors and the daily experiences of BIPOC communities.  

Image by Korantin Grall
Image by Colin Lloyd

Critique 

Many verbal art pieces also criticize inaction and comment on the dangers of staying silent. In “I Will Never Understand What It Feels Like” by TikTok user @abbyegrace4life, they explain that “you can’t just not pay attention to something because it makes you uncomfortable / that’s not how we bring change / that’s not how we fix it.” In “Fighting Racism”, TikTok user @unknown.poetry expresses that humans are “equal in heart / [but] inequality marks skin tone and birthplace which we see through the unjust and extreme versions of violence / And which we hear through the tone-deaf noise of pretense and silence.” Both pieces ultimately highlight two distinctive types of violence: the more overt forms of violence (e.g.: brutality, microaggressions) that we may witness or perceive, and another type of bystander violence perpetrated through choosing to ignore or not speak up about the events we have witnessed. In Lari’s World’s “Racism Versus. Humanity”, they incorporate this same concept into a slightly different perspective by stating that “our silence is the knife that racism wields.” In other words, our choice to not speak up about systemic racism and its various repercussions further enable racist attitudes and actions to continue harming others.  

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

By criticizing those who stay silent, the creators are voicing their stance as allies by identifying these behaviours as ineffective and rejecting them as actions they themselves as allies would take. Perhaps unconsciously, the simple act of critiquing other people’s actions (or rather inaction) expresses their own stance on racism and anti-racist movements to an audience. Thus, criticism is not only a medium for telling the viewers what not to do, but to communicate the creators’ definitions of allyship and what actions align (or don’t align) with their definitions.  

Image by Ehimetalor Akhere Unuabona
Image by Colin Lloyd
bottom of page