Tiny Huge Allyship

It was a happy, ordinary morning. 

As I readied the kids for school, the sun was shining and I was smiling: a good friend and I were meeting for coffee at a newly opened café that looked really nice. It had taken a month for us to align our schedules to make this visit happen.

My friend arrived at the café first—and this was when things went awry. On entering, she discovered the doorway was not only tight but also had a tiny step of about two inches. 

Not a big deal for most people, but an insurmountable barrier for a person using a large power wheelchair (like me).

In a world where full inclusion is often lacking, being unable to enter a building is not an uncommon experience for me. 

This was the point when most friends would quickly text me that we needed to change course and meet at another coffee shop. 

By not just silently leaving, my friend raised the café owner’s awareness of a critical barrier to people with mobility disabilities at his business. 

My friend did just that—and we went on to have a lovely visit elsewhere—but she also went a step further. “I made sure to tell the owner/manager it’s not accessible. Even a ramp would help,” she texted me. “He was oblivious. So glad I got here first!”

A tiny action on the surface that took her all of two minutes, it was a huge act of allyship and advocacy for a more inclusive world. By not just silently leaving, my friend raised the café owner’s awareness of a critical barrier to people with mobility disabilities at his business. 

Perhaps this small conversation will inspire change so that people like me can enter in the future.

She certainly inspired me; a few days later, my family visited a local comic bookstore. As my kids and husband eagerly perused the merchandise, I found myself struggling to move down the highly crammed, narrow aisles. Finally, I gave up, having made it through only a fraction of the store.  

However, instead of just morosely waiting by the front of the store for my family to finish shopping like I might have done before, my friends’ example emboldened me to approach an employee and describe the barriers I’d encountered.

it is the tiniest person-to-person acts that most deeply touch hearts.

Asking him to pass the message on to the owner, I told him that with a few modest changes to the aisle layout, this store could become a much more inclusive place.

So often, we think we need to do huge acts of allyship to make a difference for others. This can seem overwhelming in a world where many of us live lives pinched for time and energy. However, often it is the tiniest person-to-person acts that most deeply touch hearts.

This was the case last week in a difficult situation I had with another friend. Always a kind and thoughtful person, we had been with a group of people when she suddenly mentioned something about my disability that I had shared with her in confidence. I felt so upset!

The information was seemingly minor, and she said it in a positive way, but when you have lived with a disability for decades in an ableist society where you face continuous microaggressions and countless ongoing medical and societal disability-related trauma, a sense of shame can develop. Even minorly confidential information shared in front of you between people of typical ability who do not live with a disability day in and day out can be exceedingly painful.

Our response to our mistake can either cause the person more pain or can be a medium for loving them well,

I had nightmares all night after this incident. Anxiety and a feeling of broken trust reverberated throughout my spirit, far more than might initially seem warranted for the small information she had shared.  

However, I know this friend to be as good as the day is long. She is kind and trustworthy. For years, I have witnessed her be a strong advocate and ally for disability equity, inclusion, education, and justice. If there was anyone I could trust to understand why her words had so badly shaken me—it was her.

So, the next morning, I texted her, asking if we could talk it out. Immediately, she responded with openness, asking if I wanted to text or talk in person (written communication works best with my communication disabilities).

My friend listened intently and with openness and compassion as I texted her a detailed description of how difficult her words had been for me to hear and the pain they evoked.

She responded: “I can so see how what I said was triggering and hurtful. I am so very sorry. It wasn’t my story to tell, and I messed up. I hold your story with respect and I want you to feel like you can trust me.”

“I will be so much more careful,” she continued. “I am thankful you have shared all you have with me. I am deeply sorry to have harmed your heart. I so wish I could replace that statement. I am open to whatever I need to do to repair this! Sending a massive hug to finish my apology. Sorry friend. I will do better!”

The genuineness and gentleness of my friend’s response deeply touched me. She made a very powerful impression on me of how to respond in situations when I cause hurt to another.  

At various times in our lives, we all make mistakes that hurt those we care about. Our response to our mistake can either cause the person more pain or can be a medium for loving them well, in following with Christ’s calling to love our neighbour.

Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ, the apostle Paul wrote in Galatians 6:2 (ESV).

When we react intentionally with love, openness, authenticity, humility, and an expressed commitment to do better next time, as my friend did, we powerfully demonstrate allyship in a person-to-person way. These small relational acts have a huge, world-changing impact.  

Stock photo.