Virtue Signaling, 'Performing', Allyship
Trying to Be a Better Ally in Year 6 of BlackLivesMatter
Ahmaud Arbery. Breonna Taylor. George Floyd. It has been nearly 6 years after the deaths of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Eric Garner. Like in years past, the anguish and anger of these tragedies boiled into digital and in-person protests. This summer, however, phrases like “virtue signaling” and “performative ally-ship” sprang about while at the same time many black people felt a deafening silence from those who identified as allies to the BlackLivesMatter movement. This tension, the calls for more vocal support amongst a hesitancy by allies to lend their voice for fear of being performative, pushed me to think deeply about what we allies mean when we say “Black Lives Matter” and how we have to grow with the movement each year.
Unpacking Virtue Signaling and Performative Ally-ship
The terms virtue signaling and performative ally-ship were originally used in conservative outlets to criticize the actions of social justice activists online. Generally, the phrases are used pejoratively for “the sharing of one's point of view on a social or political issue, often on social media, in order to garner praise or acknowledgment of one’s righteousness from others who share that point of view, or to passively rebuke those who do not.” Nowadays, these phrases are also used within social justice circles to call out purported allies for slapping on weak attempts of solidarity seemingly in a way to protect themselves from being labeled as “one of the racists”. Therefore, initial uncertainty from supporters of the movement to post and/or participate on social media about the recent killings arose from two fears - a fear of being categorized as a virtue signaling social justice warrior and a fear to not appear disingenuous to peers.
But that hesitancy created a silence. With the COVID pandemic already exacerbating feelings of isolation, the online silence from people who typically lent their voices as allies felt even more pronounced. And as for any social movement, the operative word here being social, silence has an impact. A movement’s power and sustenance comes from being able to see and hear others fighting alongside you, to know that others will pick up when you cannot continue, to inspire and teach one another, and to trust your community.
However, these fears of “being categorized as virtue signaling” and “appearing fake and performative” are actually quite me-centric, which contradicts the ultimate goal of the ally in the BlackLivesMatter movement - to act for the sake of Black Lives.
Writer Amir Williams wrote some powerful words that rebut these two tensions in a way that is grounded in compassion for black life. I excerpt them below:
1) The agency for decision [to be silent] here is a privilege of both high value and high cost–– to have comfort on the option slate, to not regard vocality as a consideration between life and death for your people, to not be forced to watch your community ruin in the face of vigilantism and state sanctioned violence, to even have the choosing power of redirecting your eyes. How powerful and how dangerous are the potentials of that decision.
2) Being rocked and shaken to tears by this reality we traverse is the appropriate response. Feeling like you can’t bear the deafening silence for these lives taken by the hands of lethal force is the appropriate response. Being incapable of simply sitting in the observation seat as your Black brothers and sisters lament the inescapable, cycling loss is the appropriate response. Joining us is the appropriate response. To esteem this as even a semblance of a moral high ground, is to state it as a debatable truth and dismiss the undeniable injustices laid out before us.
3) How many more? How many more deaths must our people endure until the collective cries are loud enough for you to not ignore them? If you’re not yet heaved with grief by this darkness, please look closer. And don’t wait for more. There is enough history to tend to this education. Please, no more.
To reiterate Amir’s points:
1) The option to be silent about these murders is a privilege.
2) Proclaiming Black Lives Matter is not a matter of moral equivalency; it should be a given. Worrying about virtue signaling means that you have not resolved that belief.
3) Silence breeds apathy because it blocks us from accessing and absorbing the grief of the violence, the grief of which invigorates us to truly care.
Reading and reflecting over Amir’s words made it very clear why silence is violence.
But, the other element remains: How can we voice support without being performative? If that is the question, perhaps we need to start from the very beginning and ask ourselves why we say Black Lives Matter. Each time we proclaim #BLM, repost statements and say names, walk and broadcast protests, what if we asked ourselves why? Is it to follow along with what others are doing? Is it avoid being called out for not doing so? Or is it to show support and solidarity to Black Lives? To care and love them?
Drew Brees kneeling with his teammates in 2017, but then making Colin Kaepernick’s actions still about the American flag reveals that his ‘why’ was performative.
Trying to Be a Better Ally
Asking myself this question rigorously this past week has revealed uncomfortable answers and triggered real growth on how I try to be an ally in the fight against anti-black racism. When Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd were killed by police or police-affiliated individuals, I did not post my support online as regularly as I did in years past. I did not organize, find, or join protests the first few days after George Floyd’s murder. I thought I was already doing my part by working at an organization that had a focus on black justice, or standing up against anti-black racism when I saw it in my family or social circles, or retroactively through the activism I had done in college. I thought I was already there, a "good" ally. And, I wasn’t the only one. Many people in my circles believed that they too were there, and opted to not raise their voice early in this moment.
But, then I saw the exhortations against silence by leaders like Amir. And it dawned on me that we were not doing enough, that we were not there. We would never be there until systemic anti-black racism was no longer here.
But, what does that mean for my ally-ship? If I never could do enough to eradicate systems of violence against black people, would I ever be a "good ally"? Would I always be falling short in my ally-ship?
I’ll ask a deeper question than why we say Black Lives Matter here: “What does it mean when we say ‘Black Lives Matter’”? To say Black Lives Matter means more than just saying Black Lives Exist. For something to matter, it means you love and care for it. So, when we say Black Lives Matter, we are saying to the world, to one another, to ourselves, and to black people that we love and care for you. And, what is real love but imperfect, evolving, and vulnerable.
And that’s where I realized I needed to be in my ally-ship.
My ally-ship is and will never be complete. But, if my mindset is “how can I support black lives the best way that I can?” at least I can be authentic in my participation. And, part of pursuing that authenticity means being open to feedback and criticism, means lowering our arrogance to apologize for mistakes. It means having the humility to find opportunities to grow in our love. And it means when I feel powerless and unsure, I can ask for help. The same lessons we teach ourselves in order to be full and authentic humans.
How I support Black Lives has changed. I am no longer amongst communities of activists in college. But, now I do have disposable income to make recurring donations. I have better empathy to be there for my black friends. I have the time and space to write. As I grow and change, the ways I can support and ally with the community and the movement will grow and change. And as we all respectively grow and change, we must do so with the movement because that is what continuous and engaged love looks like.
But, the core reason will always be the same.
Black Lives Matter. They have, still do, and always will. Let’s be loud about it.
My own growth is due to the tireless work of the amazing black people in my life, particularly black women. And, any mistakes here are where I still need to learn and grow.
Ways to Engage I’ve Been Leaning On:
Looking for ways on how you specifically can support? Knowing the answer to that question will require longer-term reflection, but here are some resources that are a good starting point. As you look through these resources, ask yourself about where you are now to determine how you can contribute. The onus is not to do everything on those lists (though if that is where you are, do them all), but rather, to find the ways that you can best support black lives.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AlTR0uDruR461ealTSIzCefTEYj3S6hj6m7Y9Y4zbTw/edit?usp=sharing
https://thephiladelphiacitizen.org/make-change-george-floyd/
https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/non-optical-ally-guide
http://phillywerise.com/defundpolice/