The Savvy Ally. Jeannie Gainsburg

PROLOGUE

       They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.

      —Andy Warhol

For my fortieth birthday my husband gave me a book that changed my life. Up until that point I believed in LGBTQ+¹ equity and inclusion, but I hadn’t done a thing to help create a more inclusive world. In February 2003, inspired by that book, I launched myself into a career as an ally² to the LGBTQ+ communities. Here is a brief summary of my life before, during, and after I read that book—and why I became motivated to write this one.

      I grew up in New Jersey without any out LGBTQ+ friends or family members. I would later discover that I’d had plenty of LGBTQ+ friends—I just didn’t know it. Despite this dearth of out and authentic LGBTQ+ people in my early life, the word gay wasn’t avoided or considered naughty in my childhood home.

      When I was ten, my mother leaned across the table at Serendipity, a restaurant in Manhattan, and said to me, “Did you know that all of the waiters here are gay?” My conclusion: Gay men are nice, clean, polite people who bring you fantastic food. These were clearly superior human beings.

      At age fourteen, I was an avid fan of the TV sitcom Soap. Billy Crystal stole the show as Jodie, a bright, funny gay man who was one of the first-ever out and proud LGBTQ+ characters on television.

A few years ago I discovered evidence that my early environment had made me a tolerant child. While cleaning out my childhood desk, I found a note that I had passed in eighth grade science class (circa 1977) with my best friend; in it, we were discussing gay people. My friend argued that gay people were “gross.” I countered with this thorough and articulate rebuttal: “What is your problem? Live and let live!”

      Finding evidence that as a young teen in the 1970s I’d had a very chill attitude about gay people made me incredibly happy, but I certainly was no ally at that point. As a teenager, I couldn’t understand why folks got their knickers in a knot over whom people loved, but I hadn’t done anything to promote inclusion, understanding, and acceptance. I didn’t know the word ally and I didn’t know that, as someone who had no connection to the LGBTQ+ communities, there could be a role for me in supporting them. My budding passion and ally efforts would lie dormant for another quarter of a century.

      All sorts of events related to the LGBTQ+ communities were brewing as I approached my fortieth birthday. Marriage equality was newly being discussed in the media. James Dale lost his lawsuit against the Boy Scouts of America, allowing the organization to legally continue to discriminate against gay scout leaders. My young children had started school, and I was disheartened to find that gay slurs were still extremely prevalent among elementary school children.

      Then one night, I was in bed reading the book my husband had given me for my fortieth birthday: Not for Ourselves Alone. It’s the companion book to the Ken Burns documentary on the battle to secure the right to vote for women in the United States. I was awed, thankful, and inspired by the amazing women who had gone before me and fought for my right to vote. I was doing something that I often find myself doing when I read history: I was imagining myself back in that time period and wondering how I would have behaved if I had lived then, and I had convinced myself that I would have fought alongside Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton.

      Suddenly it hit me: What a hypocrite I was being! Here I was fantasizing about how I would have behaved more than a hundred years ago, while social justice battles were happening right now, in my own lifetime, and I was sitting them out! I thought to myself, “What will I tell my grandchildren if they ever ask me if I was involved in the fight for LGBTQ+ rights? When I reflect back on my life will I know that I have left the world a better place? How have I gotten so caught up in my daily life that I have lost track of the big picture?”

The next morning I looked up the word gay in the phone book (yes, I really did), found our local LGBTQ+ center, and called to ask if I could volunteer. I began my volunteer work by answering phones at the office and training to be a public speaker. I knew almost nothing about the LGBTQ+ communities, and I messed up frequently with my language and assumptions. The center’s staff and volunteers were very welcoming, patient, and forgiving of my blunders, but I wished I had a guidebook to tell me what to say and what not to say, with concrete tips about what I could actually do to make the world a more inclusive place. That book didn’t exist.

      I volunteered at the center for three years. During that time I learned the word ally within the framework of social justice work. I now had an identity within the LGBTQ+ movement, which also meant that there was a place and a role for me! I was told repeatedly that my voice as an ally was incredibly important. My new volunteer work was truly life changing. It launched me into a career as an active ally.

      In 2006 I was hired as the center’s education and outreach coordinator. In 2013 I was promoted to education director, a role I held for more than five years. Since that first phone call I have met the most amazing people, learned so much about the LGBTQ+ communities and myself, and come to understand the many gifts I can give back to a group of people who have welcomed me with open arms.

      This book, The Savvy Ally, is the book I wanted and needed when I first began my work as an ally. It is with so much appreciation and gratitude to the many people who encouraged, educated, and supported me that I now am able to offer it as a guide for others on their journey.

       NOTES

1. A definition of LGBTQ+ coming up in chapter 2. Jump ahead if you’d like it now.

2. A definition of ally coming up in chapter 1. Check it out early if that’s helpful to you.