Accomplice > Ally

Part II: The Cost of Caring

{ Julie Bowditch }

IT IS EASY TO BE supportive when everyone around you agrees. The real test comes when they do not.

         I cannot count the number of times I have overheard something that made me uncomfortable and found myself calculating whether speaking up would help, hurt, or simply make things awkward. Most of us have been there. We know the feeling. The pause before deciding whether to rebut, the internal debate about whether it is worth it, and the hope that someone else might step in first—or even back you up. 

         Last year, I wrote about the distinction between allyship and accompliceship. At its core, the difference is action. Allies support a cause. Accomplices actively share in the responsibility of advancing it.

         If you’re here, you likely agree that accompliceship matters, but what does it look like in practice? Meaningful support is rarely measured during the easy moments. It is measured when something is at stake.

         That cost may not be dramatic. Most often, it is social. It may mean challenging a discriminatory comment made by a friend, family member, colleague, or community member. It may mean correcting misinformation, supporting an unpopular decision, or remaining steadfast when advocacy is met with criticism. It may simply mean refusing to laugh along, look away, or stay silent.

Accompliceship asks more of us.

It asks us to listen before speaking. It asks us to stay curious instead of defensive. It asks us to recognize that good intentions and positive impact are not always the same thing. It requires us to accept correction, continue learning, and keep showing up even when we make mistakes.

         In my work daily I’m confronted by one of the greatest misconceptions about advocacy: that it belongs only to those directly affected by injustice. In reality, meaningful change has always required people to use whatever influence, privilege, resources, or access they have on behalf of others. 

         For some, that may look like volunteering. For others, it may mean supporting LGBTQIA+ owned businesses, attending community events, mentoring, creating welcoming workplaces, donating to organizations doing important work, or simply making it crystal clear that they have zero tolerance for discrimination.

           None of these actions are revolutionary on their own. Taken together, however, they create something powerful: communities where people feel seen, valued, respected, and safe enough to be their authentic selves everywhere. Together, they have a ripple effect. Cumulatively, they are transformational. 

         As we celebrate this Pride Month, I find myself reflecting on how fortunate I am to live in a community filled with people who continue to show up for one another. Not perfectly. Not always gracefully. But consistently and with gentle—and sometimes not so gentle—accountability and intention.

         Accompliceship is not a destination. It is an ongoing practice.

         The question is not whether we care. The question is what actions we put behind that care long beyond when Pride Month is over.