Yesterday might’ve been the first violent police encounter for many white queer folks who attended the Queer Liberation March, so I can understand the instinct to leave when the police showed up and started making arrests and pepper spraying people.

However,

I think it’s very important for those who left to examine why they did and what they did after leaving the scene.

Did you go to a more desirable, lighthearted, celebratory space in order to feel more comfortable?

If so, have you considered that many of the people in attendance

yesterday— specifically Black Queer and Trans folks— don’t have that luxury?

Have you reflected on your privilege and considered how you can/could have used it to the advantage of more vulnerable community members?

If you’re a white, cis-passing, masculine- presenting person who ran when the cops showed up, have you asked yourself why you left that space?

Have you examined how much safety and privilege you could have extended by staying?

Did you leave because the violence infringed on your Pride celebrations?

Did you check in on friends that chose to stay? And have you asked yourself why they stayed while you left?

If you are white and committed to “doing the work,” these are questions that you need to be asking yourself.

Doing the work does not consist of shouting the names of murdered Black Trans folks in a march and then running off to a safe, comfortable space when it is no longer convenient for you to be there.

You are not allowed to call yourself an ally if you are not consistently practicing allyship.

Allyship is not something you pick up when it is convenient and comfortable and easy.

Allyship is difficult, uncomfortable work because it forces you to acknowledge systemic oppression in a way that you probably haven’t before.

Systemic oppression is not a comfy subject to come to terms with.

But it is one we must push back against if we really want to call ourselves allies and make a difference for our Black and Brown siblings.

I haven’t exactly figured out my power or my place in this fight, but I know it doesn’t involve running when I feel uncomfortable.

I’ve lived comfortably in my privilege for far too long to not use it to the advantage of others who need it.