How to Support Protests When You're Not Affected by the Issue

Solidarity work starts here.
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Teen Vogue's Civil Discourse 101 features Amnesty International USA staff members, who answer questions from young activists as part of its #Right2Protest series. To submit your own question that could be featured in an upcoming column, head over to their Tumblr.

ohsoironic asked:

“Is it appropriate for me to attend protests for BLM, indigenous people, Asian-American, Latinx, religious discrimination, etc. if they're issues I'm passionate about but not really affected by?”

That’s a really great question! In the last few years, most notably in the last few months, we have seen a rise of movement work powered by the leadership of marginalized communities. From Black Lives Matter to Standing Rock to the Women’s March, we have witnessed history being made. For many of us who aren’t directly affected, we feel inspired and compelled to support and show up to demonstrate our solidarity with these communities.

If these are issues you care about but aren’t directly affected by and want to take action on them, that’s called “solidarity work.” Solidarity means working alongside impacted communities by responsibly showing up, offering your physical and emotional labor, amplifying their voices, and calls to action. Solidarity work means centering the community and not yourself.

Solidarity can look a variety of different ways, from marching alongside communities fighting against systemic oppression to everyday actions like speaking out against hateful language when you witness it.

This work ain’t easy. It asks us to think about the privilege and access we hold and how we can use that to support and uplift communities who don’t have those advantages. Many times that means putting ourselves in uncomfortable situations with people we consider friends.   When I was in high school, the word “faggot” was thrown around a lot and, as an LGBTQ youth, I never felt safe calling it out. But my straight identified friends would shut it down with a vengeance whenever they heard it. That’s solidarity work.

During “Take Back The Night” marches that addressed rape culture on my college campus, myself and other cis-men would support by setting up the stage area, carrying pallets of water to the start and end point, serving as safety marshal and doing everything and anything the Women’s Center needed. That’s solidarity work.

After Michael Brown was killed in Ferguson in 2014 by a police officer, Asian Pacific Islander American organizers across the country facilitated conversations about anti-black racism within our own community and what we need to do to stand with people of color in the call for police accountability. That’s solidarity work.

Solidarity work is about building power with communities. It’s about stepping back and opening space for marginalized voices. It’s a hundred thousand silent and unrecognized acts of bravery against injustice. Solidarity asks the question: “What kind of world are you building and how are you going to accomplish that?”

So what can solidarity work look like? Here is a handy infographic that breaks it down.

This quote by Aboriginal activists from Queensland, Australia, has been an anchor to how I approach solidarity work. Hopefully it resonates with you as well: “If you have come here to help me you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.”

This question was answered by Kalaya'an Mendoza of Amnesty International USA.

Related: How I Feel As a Native Woman When Trump Idolizes Andrew Jackson

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