When the Storm Hits, Fake Allies Scatter
Introduction
There is a storm swirling around us, terrifying, complicated, heavy, and relentless. It shakes our sense of safety daily and forces us to see things we wish we could ignore or unsee. We cannot. Storms do not just test structures; they test people. I have often said, “If you want to know what someone is made of, squeeze them and wait to see what comes out.” These moments in history expose who is built to weather the winds of truth and who only stands tall when the sky is clear.
In professional and personal spaces, the storm of justice often reveals what many would rather not face. It shows us who talks a good game about fairness, justice, and belonging and who actually shows up when the stakes are high. Yes, it is a scary time, but this is when it truly matters. And no, I am not particularly brave; I would like to think so, but really I do not have the luxury of remaining silent or sitting on the proverbial sidelines. My very existence and those I love could be and in all reality are at stake – for those paying attention. Yes, it is that serious, that cannot be understated.
The Mask of Performative Allyship
We have all seen it. If you have not, you simply have not lived long enough yet. The hashtags after a tragedy. The well wishes. The carefully worded statements about “solidarity.” The annual curated photo op. These actions look good on the surface, but they often lack substance.
And we are not even in those times anymore, are we? People are far more open about their vile beliefs, beliefs we had hoped had died out or been cast aside with previous generations. Hatred is a stubborn virus that mutates and takes on new forms, becoming more resilient to past social inoculations and interventions.
When a storm comes, it peels back these masks. The people who love to call themselves allies suddenly have meetings they cannot miss. They find reasons to stay silent. They will not risk their reputation or comfort, let alone their personal safety, to stand beside those most vulnerable.
This pattern echoes what I have written before about “calculated dishonesty” in leadership across every sector of society. Too many people build careers on public declarations of being champions of belonging while privately maintaining or even celebrating barriers for marginalized employees. Sixty-seven years of progress has apparently been enough for some to throw up their hands in disgust, forgetting the nearly 500 years of hell some groups endured before that. Storms strip that façade away.
A Word of Love and Gratitude
To those who stay, who lean in, who refuse to scatter when the storm grows fierce—you are seen, valued, and deeply appreciated. Whether you are directly impacted by injustice or you stand beside those who are, your willingness to face the hard, messy, uncomfortable truth matters. It is not easy to speak up when silence feels safer or to act when others look away, but you do it anyway. You bring light to dark places and hope to weary hearts, and that courage is priceless. You remind us what solidarity looks like when it is lived, not just spoken. Thank you for holding the line and showing up when it truly counts. We see you. We love you.
True Allies Do More Than Post
Real allies lean in when it is uncomfortable. They find ways to subvert injustice and support others, not because it benefits them, but because it is the right thing to do. They do not just say the right words; they act with courage when others turn away.
In professional spaces, this might mean advocating for someone excluded from decision-making. It might mean challenging biases in hiring or mentorship that help some and harm others. It might mean refusing to go along with “business as usual” when business as usual hurts marginalized communities. If Texas moves forward with blatant attacks on representation, other states with different values must not only respond but exceed their efforts to protect fairness and equity. This is a different game today, with no time to sit on a high throne and appeal to reason when the end game is clearly power for the few to control or erase the many.
Storms test everyone’s courage. Some people fail quietly. Others rise to the occasion, and those humans are priceless. I am reminded of Margaret Mead’s famous words: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
The Gift of Clarity
The storm can feel brutal, but it brings clarity. When the clouds finally break, you know exactly who is real and who only pretended to care. That truth can sting, but it is liberating.
Once you know who scattered at the first crack of thunder, you stop wasting your time hoping for their support. You stop mistaking performative gestures for real solidarity. You start building stronger, truer networks rooted in action, not optics. This might be the endgame for democracy and decency. It is time to recognize the threat and prepare to face it head-on.
Reflective Questions
- Have you experienced a moment in your professional or academic life when a storm revealed who your real allies were?
- What actions, not words, define allyship for you when the storm is at its worst?
