Every Little Thing is Everything Part II: The Power of the Ally

“Listen more, say less.” “Think introspectively.” “We have the power to change the world.” “Change will come but we must first challenge our way of thinking.” “Changing the world does not start when the world is watching, it starts when you decide to take small, silent, isolated baby steps.” “Educate yourself, listen and stand up.” “Be an upstander.” “Participate in listening sessions and encourage your organization to provide unconscious bias training.” “We can’t do everything, but we can do a series of a little things together that will lead to great things.” “Be a dirt mover!”  

Those are all quotes from the previous article that I wrote entitled “Every little thing is Everything”, a slogan based on Dell Technologies' Marketing Campaign. The article was well received and my inbox was flooded with testimonies of people detailing the actions that they’re taking to become dirt movers. I have even watched videos of parents instructing their children to take a handful of dirt and move it from one location to another. I watched as they taught their children the lesson that my dad taught me when I was in elementary school. I get emotional just thinking about it because my dad unexpectedly passed away 7 months ago and it shook me to my core. I’ve found that the readers of that article have helped me far beyond any insight I've provided because I literally watched my dad’s legacy manifest with every small act towards change. For that, I am appreciative for the goodness of humanity. 

In my previous article, I wrote about an experience that I had with a friend, who just so happens to be white and was frustrated because of all of the looting and rioting that was happening. I decided to put my point of view aside for a moment and listen to her perspective without rebuttal. This eventually led to her questioning her point of view which I thought was a huge win. The moment I submitted the article, I felt a measure of uneasiness. I wondered how the article would be received but that wasn’t the complete source of my discomfort. I knew that I had intentionally left out part of the story in order to protect my image. The part that I left out wasn’t exactly a shining moment in my life. “It’s not how leaders behave” is what I told myself. “If you share that part of the story, people will view you differently”, I reasoned. For well over a decade I felt embarrassed by it and wanted to block it from my memory.  That is until now, so let’s talk about it.

 The Graduate School experience that almost got me expelled.

Over 15 years ago, the friend I mentioned in the previous article and I were in the same graduate program together. There was an assignment that was due and we were instructed to have an open discussion with the class about that assignment. She admittingly didn’t complete the homework and the professor began to ask her questions that he knew she couldn’t answer. Question after question, he would ask her only to be answered with silence and shoulder shrugs. Eventually, I could see her face turning red and tears forming in her eyes. I could tell that she was trying to keep it together and hold back the tears but she was fighting a losing battle. She eventually broke down and began to cry uncontrollably. However, her tears would prove to be no match for the demands of our professor. “What were your key takeaways from chapter 4?” “Tell me about the principles of chapter 5”. “Surely, you’ve read chapter 6, it was only 3 pages”. His words penetrated and the only two sounds you heard in the room was his words and her tears falling on the desk. 

Allies: Where were you when I needed you?

While writing about my grad school experience, I was reminded of my 2nd grade teacher. I had transferred schools in the middle of the school year and it was my first week. I didn’t know any of the students in my class and I felt out of place because most of the students were white. It was time for the class to read out loud which was not my strength. The teacher solicited volunteers to read and I felt a sense of comfort because most of the class raised their hand to volunteer. I felt safe and protected. That is, until her eyes look around, over and under outstretched arms and found me shrinking in the back of the class. She said, “Dayontee (mispronounced my name)” with a commanding voice that reminded me of a villain in a scary movie. “Please read the first paragraph of chapter one out loud.” My heart sank and my feeling of safety was shattered. My palms started sweating as my hands began to slightly shake. I slowly looked down at the page, put my index finger on the first word and began to read word by word. To say that I struggled would be an understatement. I was good at reading syllables slowly but to ask me to read an entire paragraph was a large task. Suddenly, my greatest fear was realized. I heard a series of faint chuckles which quickly turned into an orchestra of untuned laughter. The teacher called my name again (mispronounced in a different way) but I never looked up and made eye contact. I just stood there motionless looking down at blurred words because I couldn’t see them through the tears that began to form. “You can’t read” she said in an unsupportive way. I waited for someone to show up and rescue me from that moment like in the movies, but it never happened.

Now back to the Graduate school experience

“Can you give us a summary of chapter 6?”, the professor asked in a firm tone. I looked around to asses the room to see if anyone was disturbed. Some students had smirks on their face and I could tell they were trying their hardest not to laugh. Others looked away with hopes that the awkwardness of the moment would fade. I was stunned to see some students look at the crying student as if she were the one causing the disruption and they looked visibly annoyed by her tears. And then there was me. I had to look at myself and make sense of the feeling that was brewing. Looking back at it, I think I viewed her as the 2nd grade Deonte who could barely read and was openly humiliated. I was outraged. Being in the moment, I stood up out of my chair and yelled, “You’re wrong for picking on her that that”. The more I spoke, the more upset I became. I was at the point of no return. I tossed chairs out of my way and made my way towards a confrontation with the teacher that could only lead to expulsion. Fortunately, my classmates physically removed me from the room before things got worse.

We eventually filed a complaint against the professor and we refused to attend upcoming classes if he was there. I’ll spare you the rest of the details, but this act resulted in him being removed. So why am I telling you this? It’s extremely important that you get this point. Fast forward to present day when my friend went on her Facebook rant about Black Lives Matter. She told me that she was accused of being a racist by her Black friends and had blocked most of them from her page. However, she didn’t block me. This gave me the opportunity to have a private discussion with her. Although we didn’t discuss it directly, my theory is she remembered what happened over 15 years ago. She remembered that I stood up for her when I barely even knew her at the time. She remembered that someone else’s strength helped her to get through her moment of injustice. I was an ally.

I’ve learned many lessons from that situation and I found this principle to be true in my life. I’ve found that the best way to create allies is by being an ally for a person or group that doesn’t represent my predominant nature. We weren’t the same race or gender, but we were the same creation. We both had 2 legs, 2 arms, a head, feet and hands which was enough common ground for me to take a stand with her.  If I hadn't taken a stand over 15 years ago for a woman who I barely knew, the conversation about race relations that I had with her recently would have never happened. I would have more than likely been blocked from her page.

I’ve found many definitions of the term “ally” but the one that speaks to me the most is a “person who is not a member of a marginalized or mistreated group but who expresses or gives support to that group”. I realized that there is a level of comfort that comes with standing up for a cause that impacts me directly but the challenge comes when I support a cause that doesn’t directly impact my world. 

There are 4 lessons that I learned from my experience of being an ally:

1) You must be willing to be comfortable with the uncomfortable and expect some backlash. 

2) Focus on being an ally while expecting nothing in return. Check your heart and make sure your intentions are pure. 

3) Support a group or a cause that doesn’t represent your predominate nature.

4)People or groups who need allies are not weak, they are strong and in need of force multipliers.

The grad school fiasco that embarrassed me for over a decade is now a powerful example of allyship. I’m not advising that you turn over chairs or make a scene as I did in my early 20’s but I am saying that we must take a stand for what’s right and not tolerate the unacceptable. For some, that stand might be speaking out against an injustice while for others, it may mean hiring a well deserving minority into a position of leadership. Theodore Roosevelt said, “In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing you can do is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.”