by Craig M. McGill and Wendy Kay Schindler
A
lthough academic advisors who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer/questioning, asexual (LGBTQA+) have a vested interest in fighting against the marginalization of their community, it is crucial to enlist the support of dominant social group members as allies because they have more societal power. But what is an ally? Is it someone who is heterosexual or cisgender who is simply tolerant of LGBTQA+ people? What are the roles and responsibilities that come along with being an ally? Is it enough to simply identify as one?
An ally “works to end oppression in his or her personal and professional life through the support of, and as an advocate with and for, the oppressed population†(Washington & Evans, 1991, p. 195). There are many intrinsic benefits of being an ally, including a greater ability to relate to and work with all members of society, broader interpersonal relationships, a stronger sense of self-efficacy, increased self-esteem, and congruence between one’s values and actions (Katz, 1978; McIntosh, 1998; Washington & Evans, 1991). However, no one is an ally automatically, even by virtue of their own marginalized identities. Allyhood involves a period of learning to break the “cycle of socialization†(Harro, 2000, p. 15) through which we discern our role in an unjust society.
The notion of allyhood is not new, and it is easy for an advisor to say they advocate for the equity of every LGBTQA+ student. However, different identities are marginalized in unique ways, and LGBTQA+ is an umbrella term encompassing many different identities. An advisor who identifies with one or more of the identities under the LGBTQA+ umbrella is not automatically an ally for all other LGBTQA+ identities. For example, a bisexual woman is not automatically an ally to transgender individuals even though her identity is included in the LGBTQA+ designation. Additionally, internalized homo/bi/transphobia or heterosex/cissex/cisgenderism can lead to self-marginalization (Hardiman & Jackson, 1997). Allyhood requires active work and continuous practice; simply retaining the name is not the final objective.
Academic advisors are on the front lines of student success and often work with students who are different from themselves, which can cause dissonance. In his study gauging the comfort of academic advisors working with LGBTQA+ students, McGill (2013) found that participants grappled with what it meant to be an ally while weighing the cost of advocating for LGBTQA+ students. Struggling to be an ally is not inherently wrong; we are socialized to keep the current power structures in place: “People from privileged groups are routinely denied information and opportunities to understand their role in an unjust social system as well as honest feedback from people in oppressed groups†(Torres et al., 2003, p. 25). For example, even the most well-meaning cisgender advisor may not realize they have harmed a transgender student by failing to use their chosen name over their legal name. The advisor has simply been socialized otherwise. Regardless, the student may feel uncomfortable correcting the advisor due to the power dynamics at play in an advising appointment. This is not to say that marginalized populations are responsible for ending oppression. However, we should recognize that people with privilege are systematically made oblivious to marginalization and must work to break this cycle of socialization (Harro, 2000).
There are many barriers to becoming an ally. For example, allies in higher education might be perceived as being too liberal or radical, especially by senior administrators at institutions with conservative boards or locales. As academic advisors are generally not protected by tenure and have limited power compared to upper administration (Pryor, 2020), job security is a legitimate concern when advocating for potentially controversial campus policies. In addition to the fear of societal backlash, a potential ally may lack confidence in their ability to make a difference. They may fear saying or doing the wrong thing and therefore choose inaction. In this excerpt we will propose an LGBTQA+ ally development model. To assist, we invited several advising professionals to reflect on their journey as LGBTQA+ allies. We are indebted to Debra Dotterer, Mark Duslak, Mark Nelson, Kyle Ross, Amy Sannes, and Roxane Timon for their important contributions.
According to Ji (2007), “in a homo[/bi/trans]phobic society, it is not enough to accept passively LGBT persons; allies need to express openly their support so everyone can be free to either say they are LGBT or that they know someone who is†(p. 179). Advisors who become active allies can play a crucial role in a student’s coming out process and thereby contribute to that student’s college success (Self, 2007). However, ally development is not incumbent solely upon those who identify as heterosexual and/or cisgender. A gay or lesbian person can still perpetuate biphobia and transphobia.
Introspection is a key part in an advisor’s ally development process. All advisors, including LGBTQA+ advisors, must reflect upon their sexual and gender identity development and ally development to become more effective allies (Broido, 2000; Chojnacki & Gelberg, 1995; Gelberg & Chojnacki, 1995; Ji, 2007; Waters, 2010). Heterosexual and/or cisgender individuals may never have needed to think about their development in the same way as most LGBTQA+ individuals because they are members of a privileged social group (Mohr, 2002). For those interested in debunking the perception that heterosexuality is the default sexual orientation, it may be useful to read literature concerning heterosexual identity development (Jordan, 2012; Mohr, 2002; Worthington et al., 2002). Regardless of sexual or gender identity, all helping professionals can better aid clients if they engage in reflection (Young, 2016).
From our review of current literature, we have developed a five-tenet model for ally development that asks allies to become informed about LGBTQA+ affairs and concerns, advocate for LGBTQA+ students, embrace discomfort, educate others, and keep learning.
Becoming an ally requires learning LGBTQA+ terms, definitions, symbols, and culture. Roxane Timon suggests “exploring novels, films, articles, and podcasts that tackle LGBTQA+ issues . . . and build connections with other allies – this will all give you a better understanding of what this community needs.†Advisors can participate in Safe Zone training on campuses where it is available. If it is not available, advisors can contact local institutions that would allow them to join their trainings. Although in-person training is preferable because of the chance to discuss and process with others, there are online Safe Zone resources if an in-person option is not available. Advisors can also grow and learn by attending conference sessions that focus on working with LGBTQA+ students. If travel funding is limited at an institution, advisors can participate in webinars, which provide a way for multiple advisors to participate. For example, The Global Community for Academic Advising (NACADA) has multiple webinars available online (e.g., McGill et al., 2014). As Kyle Ross suggests, “There are also many other opportunities beyond formal education with which you can engage. For me, art in all its forms can be powerfully disruptive of my unconscious biases grounded in heteronormativity. Find the opportunities that resonate with you and help you learn and unlearn.â€
Furthermore, asking campus colleagues and students questions is a powerful way to learn and show concern for students. Advisors can also observe colleagues who share their identity and are experienced, effective allies to learn how to be a better ally (Harrison, 2019). However, advisors should exercise caution and good judgement; it is not the job of LGBTQA+ people to educate those wanting to be allies, especially considering that so much information is readily available. It may be better to save more nuanced questions for trusted relationships.
Being an ally demands more than simply declaring it. Allyhood requires action and commitment. This involves recognizing heteronormative bias and seeking to overcome it. Using inclusive language will help LGBTQA+ students feel more comfortable and will help non-LGBTQA+ students become aware of their privilege. For example, advisors could use terms like partner or significant other instead of assuming gender with terms like boyfriend or girlfriend. Identifying your gender pronouns when meeting with students and in email signatures helps raise awareness that pronouns should not be assumed. In the quest for inclusivity, advisors should be prepared to support students who have experienced anti-LGBTQA+ incidents.
Mark Nelson suggests that it is important to “learn, know, and understand when to sit and when to stand.†As he explains, “When allies sit, we are providing our LGBTQA+ students, peers, colleagues, and friends the opportunity to express their voice through storytelling and teaching. We provide our allies a platform to exercise their voice. We provide a space to speak clearly and confidently. But there comes a time when the ally must stand. Maybe it’s when our LGBTQA+ students, peers, colleagues, and friends are unavailable or not in the room. Maybe it’s when they are unable to speak or lack the right words for the moment. Maybe it’s when you know their rights and civil liberties have been violated, thus meaning our LGBTQA+ students, peers, colleagues, and friends need the . . . ally to assist in setting up a strategy to move forward. It starts with listening and asking questions.â€
Mark Duslak echoes the importance of action but claims that one must engage in action that brings about societal change rather than what writer and political science professor Eitan Hersh called “political hobbyism.†As Duslak clarifies, “There’s a huge difference in effect between liking a tweet and canvassing for a local politician who is championing LGBTQA+ causes. It may feel like certain actions should be making a huge impact (because your Instagram post reached 1,000 followers), but, in reality, that does not amount to much change. Often, it is the error of acting too globally and missing out on the local ways to change communities. So, my recommendation is to reflect upon the impact of your allyhood. I continue to ask myself, ‘What has my work actually done?’ At the most basic level, my plan is to continue to communicate and provide a safe space for LGBTQA+ students. Additionally, I will continue to identify and advocate for substantive changes at the college and my community to build a more equitable and supportive environment for LGBTQA+ individuals.â€
Advisors should be aware of resources for LGBTQA+ students both on and off campus, and they should advocate for all-inclusive policies. Further, it is essential to use a student-centered approach when addressing their needs: “Allies ask how to help instead of assuming they know how to help†(Harrison, 2019, para. 5).
If campus culture is less than welcoming or even outright hostile for LGBTQA+ students, advisors should create an inviting office space. Displaying LGBTQA+-friendly symbols, such as a rainbow flag or a Safe Zone symbol, allows students to easily identify the space as inclusive. Debra Dotterer describes how she and her colleagues found ways to show inclusivity at a NACADA conference after the state where the conference took place passed discriminatory legislation against LGBTQA+ individuals. “The NACADA Executive Office worked with the conference committee to address ways we could provide a welcoming environment to our attendees. As a team, the committee identified gay-friendly restaurants and businesses to highlight for attendees. We designed buttons that read ‘Love All, Advise All’ to sell during the conference with proceeds supporting a local organization supporting LGBTQA+ youth. Attendees overwhelmingly responded and wore the buttons proudly throughout their time at the conference. They frequented the inclusive businesses [that we had identified] and turned a negative action into an opportunity to demonstrate their support for the LGBTQA+ community. Before the end of the conference, the conference facility staff met with the conference committee to praise our response to the situation and ask if they could share our actions with other properties throughout the state. I was never prouder of our team and of the organization.â€
Being an ally can be uncomfortable. This discomfort can come from internal and external sources. However, exposure to LGBTQA+ oppression can help allies understand the systemic nature of oppression in a heteronormative society. As Nelson notes, “The first challenge to allyhood is a willingness to learn and listen and confront your biases. Learning to listen and listening to learn empowers oppressed people while building rapport and trust. To do so, I must confront my prejudices and my Christian privilege before I can learn and listen freely. My aim is to learn and listen without casting judgment, without making preconceived assumptions, and without drawing false conclusions. Allies must refrain from growing numb to the feelings of the oppressed. We must allow our LGBTQA+ friends an honest ear built on trust.â€
When an advisor engages in introspection, it is important to assess their implicit biases, which can lead to some unexpected results. No matter how enlightened a person may believe themselves to be, everyone has experienced a lifetime of messaging that subconsciously shapes their internal thought process (Harro, 2000). To move forward, one must recognize these biases and seek to reduce them. There are helpful tools to help you get started. For instance, the Gay Affirmative Practice Scale (GAP) asks 30 questions to gauge a counselor’s competency and comfort level working with gay and lesbian clients (Crisp, 2006). Similarly, the Implicit Association Test (IAT) developed by researchers at Harvard “measures the strength of associations between concepts (e.g., black people, gay people) and evaluations (e.g., good, bad) or stereotypes (e.g., athletic, clumsy)†(Project Implicit, 2011, para. 1).
An advisor may experience external discomfort when considering how others may perceive their actions. Advocacy may lead others to assume that the advisor identifies as LGBTQA+ and thus the advisor may be subjugated to the marginalization that LGBTQA+ individuals experience. This is a real fear. However, an advisor could be experiencing internal discomfort as they project this fear onto colleagues who are not passing judgment. In either case, advisors should remind themselves why being an ally is vital. Amy Sannes relates to this experience. “I was divorced after 27 years of marriage, and, as my personal life changed, I found I began to struggle with my identity, something I had previously not questioned for years. Cycling back through my own identity redevelopment, I found it harder to be an ally for other groups. This was disturbing to me at first as I started to wonder if my ally work had been convenient or ‘fake.’ In the face of my singlehood, I was too afraid to be labeled as gay and, therefore, the reason I was single (an off-handed comment I overheard). As I reflect on this time, I realize I was even more aware of how it felt to be a straight woman who was now ‘labeled’ something she isn’t and how uncomfortable that is, but more importantly, how fragile our identities can be and how hard it is to not allow what others think of us to affect our actions.â€
Dotterer also describes her discomfort. “I see myself as an ally, but I would like to move toward being more of an advocate. I wish I had the strength to better support LGBTQA+ students as an ally in public settings. This is not my natural, comfortable response to things. I have never protested, but I feel I could be more outspoken, and I do find I am moving in that direction when conversations take a discriminatory or exclusive turn. I will advocate for students, but it is as a result of a one-on-one experience; I still hesitate in a large group to take the lead. Often power differentiation stifles my ability to speak up in the moment. I then beat myself up for not saying something. Fundamentally, we need to stop beating ourselves up in these situations. We must forgive ourselves and put that negative energy into speaking up the next time an opportunity arises.â€
Allyhood is about showing support to others and dismantling an oppressive system. It is a powerful stance to take and the right thing to do. Nelson shared his experience. “In my late twenties, a friend of mine, who identifies as a gay, queer man, shared with me how his clients made derogatory and suggestive comments about his sexuality. My friend felt he did not have support nor anyone he could turn to in his office and left his job because of ‘irreconcilable differences’ between the office philosophy and his own beliefs. Not only did my friend report feeling alone and voiceless, but he was not provided the opportunity to defend himself. I supported him as a living, breathing, eating, educated man who needed to earn a living just like me. Despite our identity differences, we all deserve fair treatment. From that day forward, I committed to becoming an LGBTQA+ ally. But at times, I have struggled with allyhood and advocacy. Becoming a better ally comes with time, experience, mistakes, forgiveness, learning, love, understanding, and growth. Interpreting and navigating my allyhood came with the charge to confront my Christian privilege. Confronting that privilege meant heartfelt, honest apologies, admission of my own wrongdoing, and seeking forgiveness.†As these experiences show, embracing the discomfort of allyhood is crucial because equity for those who identify as LGBTQA+ (as well as other marginalized populations) leads to liberation for us all.
As an advisor becomes a stronger ally, educating colleagues becomes increasingly important. The more informed others become, the more likely campus culture will unravel heteronormative assumptions in day-to-day practice. Ross considered this notion, saying, “Right now, I am committed to educating others on privilege and concepts of social justice, but I have not found what action looks like for me yet beyond informing others.†Educating others can take on many forms, from one-on-one conversations to conference presentations to formal research projects.
One-on-one conversations can be casual but rich in content, leading all parties to learn more about being an ally. Advisors should seek out these conversations often to educate others and keep themselves immersed in learning. In some instances, a conversation may become uncomfortable, particularly if it is in response to an anti-LGBTQA+ incident. When possible, it is best to confront problematic behaviors immediately to make the most impact. Confrontation not only addresses the actions of the person responsible but also benefits others in the vicinity who can learn from the situation. At times, you may only learn about incidents after the fact. For example, an advisor may need to address a colleague after learning the colleague is not using a transgender student’s correct pronouns. A direct conversation may be best, but if that colleague is violating a campus policy, an advisor should also report the incident to human resources.
SELF-REFLECTION
Consider the following self-reflection questions to start interrogating your privilege (or lack thereof) within an oppressive society:
• When did you first become aware of diverse sexualities?
• When did you first become aware of diverse gender identities?
• What did you first learn about the dominant view toward sexuality and gender?
• How were these views about societal roles and norms strengthened and by whom (e.g., parents, friends, school, television, religion, etc.)?
• Have your views changed over time? How so? Has any of that change come from advising students?
• In what ways do you benefit from societal privilege? In what ways are you marginalized? How does this information help or hinder your work with advisees?
• What are some things you are unlearning in order to break the cycle of socialization? How does this make you a better advisor for your students?
Conducting and presenting research on campus or at conferences can reach a broader audience beyond immediate colleagues. The more informed that advisors are about being an ally and about issues such as heteronormativity and homophobia, the more likely it is that students will be supported to achieve success. In light of the minimal literature regarding academic advisors as allies for LGBTQA+ students, formal research projects are always a needed addition to higher education.
Becoming informed, advocating for students, embracing discomfort, educating others, and taking other steps toward being an ally should not be viewed as one-time activities. Rather, they are iterative and ongoing, keeping abreast of new and ever-changing information. Being an ally for LGBTQA+ students is a journey, not a destination. Dotterer articulated this idea: “Being an ally is a continual journey without an end. You consistently need to deal with your own biases as you engage with others. I have a long way to go but understand that we are all human beings who I believe ultimately try to do our best every day. Always keep an open mind and listen to individuals’ stories. It is through listening we allow the voices of those who have been silenced to be heard.â€
Ross agrees. “The process of learning and unlearning never stops. There will always be a counternarrative you are not aware of that sheds light on the systemic oppression of LGBTQA+ people. There will always be an unconscious bias you may not be aware of because of its link to other aspects of your identity in relationship to gender and sexuality. There will always be opportunities to educate yourself. Continue to read books written by LGBTQA+ people on social justice and engage in professional development opportunities that deepen your learning and advocacy skills.â€
In addition to self-reflection, engaging in current literature is also important because research is paramount to acting with authority. Without the backing of quality research, we can only hope to make a positive difference, potentially doing harm without recognizing it. We must always look forward and track our results – even in informal ways. From there, we can adjust our methods as we receive new information. The goal of an ally should always be progress, not perfection. For Timon, part of learning is to practice patience with herself. “It may take some trial and error to know exactly what to say or how to react to situations. Ultimately, the most important question that allies should ask themselves is how they can contribute to a more equitable, respectful, and safer environment for the LGBTQA+ community.â€
Beyond advising literature, advisors can also learn valuable information about working with LGBTQA+ students from other disciplines. For instance, what does career counseling literature say about life outside of academia for LGBTQA+ students? Graduation is a scary prospect for many LGBTQA+ students who may consider their campus to be safer than the outside world. What are the legal issues for LGBTQA+ persons in your area? What does K–12 literature say about LGBTQA+ students before they enter college? Literature on LGBTQA+ issues in adult education (Eichler, 2010) and career counseling (Gelberg & Chojnacki, 1995) can be a helpful tool in advisor ally development.
Becoming comfortable with the roles and responsibilities of being an ally takes time. Advisors will make mistakes but can persistently learn to do and be better. As Peter Ji, an associate professor of clinical psychology, writes, “Allies are not born; they are trained†(2007, p. 183). Becoming an ally is a continual journey. It is unrealistic to expect an academic advisor to understand and accept allyhood overnight. However, academic advisors can be better allies by becoming informed about LGBTQA+ affairs and concerns, advocating for LGBTQA+ students, embracing discomfort, educating others, and maintaining a commitment to continual learning. Creating a more just and equitable society for LGBTQA+ individuals creates a better world for everyone. It is worth the work. The daunting process of being an ally must be acknowledged, appreciated, and commended.
Craig M. McGill is an assistant professor for the Department of Special Education, Counseling, and Student Affairs at Kansas State University in Manhattan. He serves on the editorial boards for the NACADA Journal, Journal of The First-Year Experience & Students in Transition, New Horizons in Adult Education and Human Resource Development, and Journal of Women and Gender in Higher Education. Wendy Kay Schindler is currently the coordinator for TRIO Student Support Services at Northern Kentucky University in Highland Heights. Schindler serves on the NACADA Council as an advising communities division representative and is a former chairperson of the NACADA LGBTQA Advising and Advocacy Community. This article was written with contributions from Debra A. Dotterer, Mark Duslak, Mark S. Nelson, Kyle W. Ross, Amy Sannes, and Roxane Timon.
