Allyship: Show Up, Speak Up, Lift Up, Give Up
- May 29
- 4 min read

Show Up: Visibly stand alongside
The first time I came across the term “ally” in the context of inclusion was when a friend invited me to attend a Pride Parade. “But I’m not gay,” I said, assuming this was a basic requirement. “You don’t need to be,” he answered, ‘come as an ally.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “Show up for us, in solidarity. You are someone in the majority here, so we need you to be for us.” My friend’s explanation made sense to me, and I attended that Pride March in Boston. For many years after that day, I understood allyship as showing up in solidarity for another group, a visible display of support. I still think it means this. But, all these years later, it also means a lot more.
I define allyship broadly at this point: using my power to create opportunities or remove obstacles for others. Those “others” can be anyone: a new joiner, a recent assignee from another culture, a seasoned leader struggling to navigate a key transition. The person who is in a position of privilege today can require my allyship tomorrow. It necessitates me paying attention, or, as Minal Bopaiah puts it in her book on Equity, it requires me to “see the system”. Allyship is daily. It is a way of seeing and being with others. It requires me to navigate the organisation in a fundamentally different way.
Speak Up: Address bias so that victims of bias don’t have to
I was speaking on the topic of inclusive leadership for a group of executives in Mumbai a few years back when a female leader, one of only a handful in the room, stood up and said,
“You know what I wish? I wish that every time some comment is passed about women or there is an off-colour joke made at my cost, I wish my male colleagues would say something so that I don’t have to.”
I remember thinking in that moment, ‘yes, that is what we all want, isn’t it?’. We want our colleagues to advocate on our behalf in vulnerable moments. Being an ally means speaking up for others who may, either in that moment or on a more systemic basis, be at a disadvantage.
Lift Up: Be a mentor, sponsor or coach (even unofficially) Amplify the work of others
I worked for over a decade in a consulting firm whose star employees were public speakers. These employees were highly visible and routinely picked for big projects and travel opportunities. The company had a type. I easily fit this type. It matched my natural skill set. On my team, however, I had a direct report, Aisyah, who had none of these skills. She was an introvert. Her strength profile was systems and execution, rare in our company and desperately needed. Aisyah could do spectacular things with a spreadsheet while Excel was a foreign country for most of our company’s superstars. She was phenomenally talented but was struggling to navigate a reward system not designed for her.
I spoke about her talents in every leadership meeting I attended, citing projects she had masterfully delivered. When colleagues in EMEA struggled to transition to consultative selling, I asked Aisyah to lead a knowledge-sharing session for them, leveraging the systems she designed in Asia. Being an ally meant leveraging my status as a natural citizen of the company culture to create opportunities for Aisyah to be rewarded, seen and promoted. Not because she innately needed help. Quite the opposite. Rather, because the system was not designed to recognise her particular strengths.
Give Up: Make sacrifices, distribute privilege, allow others room to shine
I worked for several years as the only US-American in a small Shanghai office. I arrived with a strong existing relationship to the company’s US-based executive team. The leaders knew me. They felt comfortable speaking with me. I articulated issues in ways that made sense to them. A few months into my Shanghai assignment, the company president asked me to represent the China office in the executive team’s monthly meetings.
My initial feeling was elation at being offered a seat at the table. I was young and ambitious. I thought I could be a great advocate for the China team, speaking up about issues that often went unvoiced or unheard. I said I would be honoured to join.
Over the weeks that followed, however, I began to rethink this decision. I grew up in East Asia and saw organisations operating with the same playbook: making decisions for the region without regional representation. I was also in daily conversations with my Shanghainese colleague, Michael. Compared with his strategic insights on the Chinese market, mine lacked depth.
Allyship in this situation meant getting out of the way. I turned down the president’s invitation and informed him that Michael would join instead. The executive team would need to include a different kind of voice. This great personal opportunity came at a great cost to both the organisation and the China office. It would have sent a debilitating message to aspiring Chinese employees, and it would have kept our company lazy, repeating dysfunctional dynamics.
Conclusion
Since receiving that first invitation to be an ally at the Boston Pride March, I have experienced allyship as an invitation to deepen my awareness about the systems within which I operate. Then, to do something about what I see. Doing involves visibly showing up for colleagues, but not just on Women’s Day or Pride Day. It requires me to speak up when colleagues are at a disadvantage.
Allyship asks me to use my position in the organization to open the door—or make a new door—for those who struggle to enter.
Finally, allyship invites me to get out of the way so that other kinds of voices can be heard, and new organisational muscles can be worked. Navigating the organisation as an ally requires a different way of moving. And that’s good for everyone.
Comments