I believe that the vast majority of people do not mean harm and want to be co-creators of a world where inclusion and a celebration of all our delicious human diversity is the norm. We all come with our own unique sets of experiences and identities, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with not knowing about how people different to yourself may have radically different experiences, especially when it comes to exclusion and marginalisation.
But we cannot create spaces that truly feel safe for all the people we want to invite into them until we understand how people different to ourselves experience the world. And we will not develop that understanding unless we listen to each other, and listen hard – which often requires us to suspend our own feelings and reactions in the moment so we can allow someone else’s realities to really land within us.
It requires us to respond with grace and kindness when someone is exposed to new knowledge like this, and give them time and space before we judge them.
I will happily give my time, knowledge and experience to help deepen someone’s understanding of what marginalisation feels like, how it can manifest, and how things can be done differently.
I volunteer to do this.
If I comment on a post you have made because it appears that you have made it from a place of privilege that you perhaps weren’t aware of yet, or you’ve missed an opportunity to do something that could make real, positive change when it comes to inclusion and I believe you’re capable of doing it, I will call you in.
I will be kind.
I will invite you into further conversation.
I will not judge you or blame you for not having had the opportunity to learn this before.
I will not attack you.
I will demonstrate to you and to everyone else who comes along later to read what we write, what calling in with love looks like, and how we can all do it well.
Because it matters to me that every opportunity you have to evolve on your allyship journey is made available to you, and I will always help if I can.
But I need you to know that when I call you in, it has come at a cost to me.
I was probably hurt when I first read your content. I probably had to take a moment, make myself a cuppa, and take a deep breath before I responded, to make sure that I only turned up with kindness and without carrying any of the pain or resentment I could have chosen to turn up with.
It will have taken me time. Calling in needs to be done well. I am balancing what is ultimately something of a challenge to you with a desire for you to hear it in a way that will not trigger defensiveness or close down the conversation before it even starts. I want you to feel loved and seen as well as kindly questioned. Getting that right can take multiple read-throughs and editing.
It chips away. Your post will likely not be the only one I read that day that caused hurt. I have probably already deleted multiple hateful comments that day, before I even read your post.
I need you to know, when I call you in, that I am taking a risk. For you.
The risk is that you might react defensively. We will then have a conflict on our hands and no-one ever learns from a defensive position.
You might read my comment and pay lip service to it but ultimately shrug it off. This is absolutely your right, but, well, I’m sure you can imagine how that feels.
You might find the conversation a bit too much to manage at the time, so you disable further commenting. This is, again, absolutely your right but it silences the conversation. It also prevents me from being able to correct any errors, such as letting you know that you have misgendered me in your comments – as has happened this week. Wherever the conversation gets left is where it gets left, and I have no power over that.
You may find it all gets too hot to handle and delete the whole comment thread or even the whole post. All that conversation – often equating to hours of free labour – deleted in a moment.
And the biggest risk of all is that I will be met with prejudice and hate. It has happened. I’m generally quite good at knowing when not to even try, but I still mess up sometimes and I never know, for sure, if any particular calling in I do is going to surprise me that way.
So yeah, calling in is risky. And costly.
But I will never stop doing it.
Because the chance that it will initiate a change that goes on to benefit not just you and me, but many other people, is a result well worth the cost.
And you know what? If I call you in and you respond in a way that I find hurtful, even then I will not lash out at you. It’s not my style. I will not engage in conflict. You need never fear repercussions from me, no matter how you respond, apart from the possibility I might quietly remove myself from your spaces.
There is no risk to you in being called in by me. Not from me, anyway.
But I can’t speak for others.
Because when you get called in, particularly on social media, that conversation has an audience. It is being read, interpreted, and judged, by everyone who sees it. And neither of us can say how they may respond to either one of us.
So if you find yourself being called in, try to remember what a gift it really is. It’s no small thing.
And try not to forget that the world is likely watching to see what you do with it.