In a post-election fog on the morning of November 6, I attended my third-grade daughter’s Veteran’s Day assembly. It was deeply moving and full of the trust, hope, and optimism that we want all children to have. They enthusiastically sang “Proud to Be an American” and a less well-known song, “American Tears.” The lyrics hit hard that morning in the auditorium, and many of the audience members were shedding them. It made me think, once again, about what it means to be an ally in our country’s ongoing struggle for fundamental human rights.

American Tears (lyrics):
Sometimes I think about America.
About her struggles through the years.
I think of people who did what they had to do
with the strength to act through their fears.

The next day, a family friend was wearing a blue bracelet intended to identify a person as “safe” after the election for anyone who may feel their identity puts them at risk in society at large. I thought, “That’s so nice,” and she gave me one. I quickly learned that my excitement about the blue bracelet was likely attributable to my identity as a white woman. I consider myself an ally who knows the importance of action when it comes to the ongoing struggle for racial equity. And yet, when the election results emerged more swiftly than anyone anticipated, I was swept up in a performative gesture that may help me feel better but doesn’t really help anyone. In fact, many Black women made it clear that the blue bracelets add insult to their injury.

This is a clear lesson of allyship: we will mess up. When we do, we must be willing to own it and listen to why what we did wasn’t appreciated or how it might cause harm. That is accountability.

American Tears (lyrics cont’d):
Sometimes I think about America.
About her future and her past.
I know I’m blessed to be living in liberty
in a land where freedom will last.

But accountability isn’t enough, and freedom isn’t guaranteed. We need to do more than listen, more than talk with groups of like-minded individuals, and more than learn. More, even, than do something. We need to change our behavior and do something differently. From my perspective, we are complicit in the systems of structural racism and sexism if we do not center those ideas in the myriad discussions about the current state of our country.

American Tears (lyrics cont’d):
For the heroes. For the patriots.
For the soldiers. For all the pioneers.
I will always be an American.
And I’ll always cry American tears.

I can withdraw into my own shame about thinking the blue bracelet was a “nice” idea, or I can do better. The longstanding life lesson of “think before you act” seems applicable. Is this action going to help any of the minoritized communities I’m concerned about? Can I take the feedback from Black, Asian, Latinx, and Indigenous women with humility? Can I encourage my family, friends, and co-workers to do the same?

American Tears (lyrics cont’d):
Sometimes I think about America.
About her people’s legacy.
I wonder if they knew that what they had to do
would be known throughout history.

It occurs to me that a large part of our current struggle is one that is replicated in countless workplaces and communities across the country. Do we want a multiracial democracy where all people have the opportunity to sit in a position of power and the seats at the table are representative of a diversity of lived experiences and thoughts? Or do we want to remain passively confused by the distress and retreat to the comfort of our privilege, keeping the same familiar people at our tables?

Call to action: Eddie Glaude Jr.’s book, We Are the Change We’ve Been Waiting For, encourages people to identify an accountability partner. By writing this blog, I am doubling down on my commitment to create more equitable spaces by engaging in dialogue with co-workers, acquaintances, family members, and loved ones about how we can work for a democracy where the plurality of existence is celebrated as a strength.

For those in health care and mental health spaces, allyship demands more than serving minoritized communities from a distance. I am committed to living and working in spaces that are authentically multiracial by using whatever influence I have to amplify the voices of BIPOC colleagues and joining in community with them. I will not perpetuate the pattern of claiming to “serve” minoritized communities without simultaneously offering them a seat at the table.

As many of us spend time with friends and family over the holiday season, how do we plan to show up? Who is sitting at our table, and how does this translate to the proverbial tables in our communities? True allyship demands that we are willing to share power and sometimes give up our seats entirely. The natural consequence of this action is that some of our relationships will change—some will be enriched, some will be strained, and others may cease to exist. Changes in relationships and dynamics are what ideally lead to healing, something we all desperately need. It is my firm belief that these are the actions required to provide our children with a future where their trust, hope, and optimism can continue to shine.

American Tears (lyrics cont’d):
Sometimes I think about America.
About her pain along the way.
I know it had to be for our democracy,
for the world we live in today.

Maura Dunfey Hwang is a double board-certified child and adolescent psychiatrist in private practice in southeastern Pennsylvania with an additional certification in ecosystemic structural and family therapy. She can be reached on Spoutible @MauraDHDO and BlueSky @mauradhdo.

Dr. Dunfey’s longstanding interest in public health, policy, and systems thinking was shaped by her early work in homeless outreach, community mental health, and firearm injury prevention research.

Dr. Dunfey currently serves on the board of the Delaware County Medical Society and is president-elect for the Regional Council of Eastern Pennsylvania & Southern New Jersey Child and Adolescent Psychiatry. She is co-founder of Physicians for a Healthy Pennsylvania and trained as a restorative justice circle keeper in Philadelphia. As Dr. Dunfey and her partner raise their three children, she has become a reliable community leader and child advocate. She is currently focused on early literacy as a social driver of health and prioritizing children’s mental health in a variety of settings, including public schools and youth sports.