Fair warning — I'm a white, middle class, cis-gender, mostly heterosexual female. I have a lot of privilege, and I'm writing this from what I understand, so it's not perfect. Please feel free to correct me if you believe I'm wrong in any way. It is because of my privilege that I'm even able to write this article in the first place, hopefully that understanding comes across.

For all of those reasons mentioned above, I find myself in an interesting place recently. I am horrified by the police brutality and the massacre in Charleston, but I'm not black. I'm excited about the SCOTUS decision to legalize gay marriage, yet understand that the fight isn't over and that many of the advancements seen by the LGB community are not seen by those who identify as transgender, but I'm cis-gender. All of that is just a long way of saying that in most of today's biggest social justice struggles, I am an ally, and that is all I will ever be.

Being an ally is important in a lot of ways, don't get me wrong. However, as an ally, it is important to realize that you are not even close to being at the center of a movement. Instead, allies are supposed to stand at the edges, supporting when we are asked and in the very specific ways we are told to do so. We need to recognize our privilege and use it as a tool, but also not let it push us to the forefront where we don't belong.

Here are some examples of allies doing exactly what they're not supposed to do:
1. A straight person should not be the president of a school's Gay-Straight Alliance.
2. A white person should not be in the leadership of a Black Students Association.
3. A person who identifies as male should not be in charge of his school's feminism club.

Instead, being an ally is about listening, changing behaviors and not passively letting oppression happen. Allies should realize that being an ally isn't a status, you don't get to walk around saying that you understand because you're an ally. In fact, we really shouldn't be calling ourselves "allies" at all. Being an ally means that you're acting in solidarity with a marginalized group. It should be a verb, not a noun. Being an ally means not standing in silence because you know that's just increasing the oppression. Allies need to educate themselves and spread that knowledge, specifically to the people that identify the same way we do. By that, I mean that white allies of the Black community should work to help educate and change the opinions of other white folk.

I know all of this may just seem like a rant, but it's not. As someone who strives to act in solidarity with those who are oppressed, I see it as my job to spread what I believe and to dialogue with as many people as possible. The learning never stops. If this resonates with you, then try the following three things. Of course it isn't as simple as just checking off a to-do list, but baby steps matter. Oh and by the way, even if you don't agree with me, at least do number one.

1. Educate yourself.
I try to read at least one thing every day that makes me uncomfortable. Recently that has been a lot of stuff about white privilege and cis-privilege. For starters, check out this article about being an ally or this article about white privilege or this classic essay about unpacking the invisible backpack. There are also articles about straight privilege, male privilege and cis-gender privilege — any of these can be found with a simple google search.

2. Don't stay silent.
If something seems wrong, SAY IT. A coworker recently said something to me that has stuck with me ever since, "White silence is white oppression." That's true for all forms of oppression. If a member of the privileged group is silent, then they're part of the problem.

3. Accept criticism.
As I wrote at the very beginning of this article, I'm probably getting a lot of things wrong. And that's okay. As allies, we are all going to get a lot of things wrong. Getting things wrong is better then doing nothing, at least in my book. It's better to be wrong because you're doing something then to be right because you're being silent. It only becomes a problem if someone inside of a community says something about it, and you refuse to change. For example, here's a personal reflection. For a while I was saying "transgendered" with an "ed" at the end. When someone who identifies as transgender told me I was wrong, I immediately felt defensive. Then I realized that it's not my place as someone in the privileged group to dictate how someone else identifies. Things happen like that every day. And it's OKAY. It really is. As long as you actively try to change your behaviors.