Every May 17th since 2005, a growing number of nations around the world have observed (what is now known as) International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia (IDAHOBIT) as a way of drawing attention to the need for action in response to anti-LGBTQIA+ violence and oppression. Originally recognized just as International Day Against Homophobia before later being expanded to include recognition of bisexual and transgender communities, May 17th was chosen in honor of the date that homosexuality was finally removed from the 1990 draft of the ICD-10 (the 10th edition of the International Classification of Diseases) after much lobbying to the World Health Organization. (Homosexuality was removed from the second edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual by the American Psychiatric Association in 1973, though remnants of its pathologization remained until 1987—and in the ICD until 2019.)
The Sexual Health Alliance marches in solidarity with all of the communities under the broad and inclusive LGBTQIA+ community, and recognizes the severe levels of minority stress facing LGBTQIA+ persons in many countries around the globe. With even the Lemkin Institute for Genocide Prevention (named after Raphael Lemkin, who coined the word genocide) taking a stance against the current wave of right-wing transphobia as it continues to escalate to the level of genocide, the Sexual Health Alliance is committed to providing education and resources to help push back against discrimination and hate and create a safe, inclusive, and affirming world for all members of LGBTQIA+ communities.
What can allies do to help us all reach this goal? Read on for some suggestions.
1. Develop an Understanding of the Realities of Homophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia
At some point in your life, you’ve probably heard someone say something like “I’m not homophobic—I’m not afraid of gay people. I just don’t like/believe in/agree with their lifestyle.”
Next time you hear this, you have a perfect opportunity to ask the person who says it about hydrophobic molecules. Such molecules aren’t afraid of water since, after all, they’re just molecules—they don’t fear anything at all. Instead, what qualifies such molecules as hydrophobic is that they repel or fail to mix with water. Applying this understanding to homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia, we see that such attitudes, actions, and structures don’t require any feelings of fear at all. What makes an attitude, action, or structure homophobia, biphobic, or transphobic is rather that it contributes directly or indirectly to situations or cultures that repel or fail to mix with LGBTQIA+ persons and communities—that is, situations or cultures that exclude, invalidate, or otherwise marginalize members of gender or sexual minority demographics.
(We would be remiss, of course, if we didn’t pause to point out that one among the many ways that this exclusion, invalidation, and marginalization occurs, of course, is through the erroneous reduction of gender or sexuality minority status to a mere “lifestyle.”)
Furthermore, just as we know that racism goes beyond individual attitudes and actions and instead can and does become deeply embedded in social systems and structures, we know that homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia can be present in social systems or structures even in the absence of explicitly and overtly discriminatory, hateful, or otherwise oppressive intent. As such, it is absolutely crucial that anyone who aims to practice allyship be ready, willing, and able to receive constructive critique when they contribute to such systems or structures, even if unintentionally.
2. Approach Allyship as a Practice
Allyship is not a state of being—it is an ongoing and intentional practice. While anyone can call themselves an “ally” whenever they want, we might think that meaningful allyship toward a marginalized community comes through consistent thought, talk, and action in defense and support of that community. On this understanding, allyship is something that must be actively and consciously maintained: it’s not what one has done in the past that makes them an ally, or what one plans to do in the future. Instead, allyship is based on what one is doing and consistently does.
You can start asking yourself now:
What can I do today? (Donate to mutual aid organizations; follow a wide range of LGBTQIA+ creators on social media platforms, especially those who claim multi-marginalized identities; call your state representatives.)
What can I do this week? (Research your local politicians; familiarize yourself with your local school board; look into which local businesses are supportive of LGBTQIA+ persons and communities.)
What can I do this month? (Read a book on LGBTQIA+ care, concepts, and communities; watch a documentary; attend a hearing or protest in or around your area.
What can I do this year? (Get involved with local Pride organizations, as well as other LGBTQIA+ affirming groups; support LGBTQIA+ art and events in your area; vote in every single election.)
What can I do every day? (Listen to and amplify LGBTQIA+ voices; carefully vet any information you share; don’t shy away from potentially uncomfortable conversations with friends, neighbors, co-workers, or family members.)
3. Reframe the Struggle
You might occasionally be tempted to affirm your LGBTQIA+ friends by offering praise about how strong, resilient, brave, or inspiring they are. As someone striving to practice meaningful allyship, please think twice before doing this—such things are not always the affirmations you might think they are.
I don’t speak for all LGBTQIA+ persons, but I do speak for many when I say: we are tired of having to be strong, resilient, brave, and inspiring. Those are survival strategies, ways to keep our heads above water as the tides of homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia continue to rise around us. Many of us long for the days when we don’t have to perpetually embody those things any more—when we can just simply live, rest, and be. When merely existing isn’t praised as an act of protest.
Instead of fighting for LGBTQIA+ persons and communities to be strong, resilient, brave, or inspiring, we should all be working toward a world in which they have the opportunity and permission to be none of those things—a world in which gender and sexual minority persons can rest, recover, and even (if they want) live in a way that is completely unremarkable.
Despite misleading narratives perpetuated by those who clutch their blankets at night, afraid of fabricated boogeyman like “reverse discrimination” and “cancel culture,” LGBTQIA+ persons as a whole have very little actual political power. When we hear the sort of attempted compliments mentioned above, it can feel like being praised solely for fighting so hard against our own oppression. Speaking for myself: that stings, particularly when considered alongside the fact that much of that oppression is tacitly permitted due to the general inaction and inattention of many of those who fashion themselves allies—especially those with the power, influence, and resources to contribute toward general change yet, for whatever reason, don’t. Praising the strength of those who struggle under systems that you contribute to and perpetuate isn’t the encouragement you might think it is.
Real progress and change comes not from encouraging and empowering LGBTQIA+ persons and communities to find the freedom to thrive, but from those committed to meaningful allyship actively aiding LGBTQIA+ persons and communities in finding freedom from the systems and structures that continuously push us down and back, into the margins.
On days like International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia—as well as every other day—we encourage all of those committed to meaningful allyship to stay strong, resilient, brave, and inspiring.
To those who directly suffer under the structural oppression of cisheteronormativity (including all those along the asexual spectrum, who all too often get left out these conversations): the Sexual Health Alliance wishes every single one of you the most restful of restful days imaginable—and will fight until those days move from imagination to reality.
Ley David Elliette Cray, PhD, CSC, ABS (she/they) is LGBTQIA+ Curriculum Coordinator for the Sexual Health Alliance and founder of Transentience Coaching.