When I was in high school (2004 - 2008, not that long ago), we had exactly one out person. One.
We also didn't have a Gay Straight Alliance chapter yet. Virtually every support group you could find, even in navy blue states, was a local chapter of the GSA. You were much more likely to find that acronym than LGBTQ+.
Our school decided we wanted one, but we wanted to be inclusive, because we knew there were other letters. We called our group "Spectrum", because it would cover everyone, including allies.
It took three meetings in front of the school's board of directors to get permission for the club to exist. Again, this was a private school, in a mid-Atlantic state that has been navy blue and "progressive" for decades (even at that point).
Other than the one (1) kid who was out? Every single other member said we were Allies.
Nearly 20 years later, almost every single one of us is out as some flavor of queer.
A lot of us knew we were huge supporters of queer rights, we just didn't quite know all the reasons why yet. Asexuality wasn't discussed the way it is now, neither was any type of gender nonconformity. Hell, bisexuality was barely acknowledged, and even then it was mostly only given a nod as "girls who turn guys on by kissing girls" (biphobia was strong, and unfortunately still is).
Making sure allies have a space at our table ensures that people have the space to explore their own identity, to question if one of our labels might work for them too.
It also allows people who may have some baked-in prejudices realize that those prejudices are wrong. That we're not evil and hateful, that we are actually pretty nice and friendly.
One time, some friends and I were at a pretty famous local gay bar, and this guy walked in looking like he was ripped out of the pages of Redneck Magazine. He looked super uncomfortable, but he was polite to the hostess and she sat him alone, near us. A lot of people were tense, and watching him out of the corner of our eyes, because we all knew what happened at Pulse.
But one of my friends is the person who knows absolutely everyone and goes out of their way to make new friends. He's also a cis straight guy. He leans over, compliments the guy's Carhartt jacket, and asks if he's ever been to the place before.
The guy, who is still kind of tense, says his name is Johnny and no, he's never been to no queer bar before, but his sister just came out to the family. Their parents were awful about it, and while he "didn't understand it", he didn't think his sister should be disowned and hated the thought of seeing her cry, so he wanted to try and understand.
I remembered the story that's made the rounds here- about the guy named Earl who went to a drag show and everyone made him feel welcome because they knew he needed to have a good time to prove we queer folks were safe.
So I invited Johnny to sit with us. "It's more fun than sitting alone. Here, have some of my fries, I'm probably not going to finish them anyway."
He sat at our table, and when he found out that my friend was also a cis straight guy, he visibly relaxed. So did a lot of other patrons, once they realized he wasn't there to cause violence.
Over the next few hours, he ate great food, had a couple beers, clapped and smiled at the drag shows, and asked a LOT of questions. At first, he was using language we might call "un-PC" (the kind that would get you cancelled on this webbed site). But he realized we were using different words, and asked. He asked why the old words were wrong, why the newer ones were right, and how not to be offensive.
The staff found out what was going on, and eventually a card got passed around the whole joint and everyone wrote supportive messages for Johnny's sister Lila. This big tough man felt safe enough to cry a little in front of us queer strangers, because we instantly accepted his sister as one of our own, as family, even though we'd never met her.
I'd later found out from the staff that Johnny had returned, more than once. A couple times with Lila herself, and a couple times with his friends... who were gruff and suspicious at first, but won over by the end of the night.
We need to be a safe space for allies. For people who may not use all the Correct And Accepted Special Words but genuinely want to understand and accept us. As someone who is both asexual and nonbinary, I felt way safer with Johnny (despite him using outdated terminology for a while) than I do with a lot of people on THIS QUEER ASS WEBSITE.
Allies are sometimes members of the family that don't even know they're in the closet yet, because they don't know the closer includes people like them.
Allies are sometimes people who don't know the right words or behaviors, but still want to support someone they love.
Scooting over and making a safe, welcoming space for allies will always be important. And it will help us get closer to that world of acceptance we want to see.
