Practicing Allyship in 2025: How to Make Your Actions Matter

It's June 19, 1982. The night is young, and like many others who seek the comfort of bustling bars and lively conversations, Vincent Chin is out enjoying his bachelor party. He works two jobs and attends night school to learn computer operations. On the side, he's steadily looking for property for himself, his fiancee, and his mother, Lily Chin. At age 27, Chin stands at the precipice of a new chapter, one with blooming experiences that any adult in their late 20s might anticipate.

He never makes it home.

Amid the crowd, two men follow Chin outside and cut his life short. They overlook his humanity and paint him as the scapegoat of their employment problems. He never gets married or purchases his first house, and Lily makes the difficult choice to pull his life support just four days after what's supposed to be a celebratory evening.

Injustice threatens to bury Chin's name prematurely—but a community of allies keeps his story alive. The pen drops, and they pick it back up, ready to fill his blank pages with a righteous ending.

What is allyship in 2025?

Allyship today is what allyship was in the 1980s. Vincent Chin's death sparked outrage, and Asian Americans found solidarity in other racial groups that fought to amplify their voices and prevent people in power from erasing his tragedy. Among them was Reverend Jesse Jackson, who, during his presidential bid, highlighted the atrocities of Chin's perpetrators and the dangers of racism. Standing alongside Lily, he questioned:

"Our hearts are made heavy by a mother who sits here with us, whose son was brutally killed just because he was. What can we do in the aftermath? We must redefine America."

Jackson's speech illuminated the necessary we. People had to band together to rewrite a future that'd be fairer for generations to come. One person's fight became everyone's fight. Although Chin's family waited decades before finding justice, the perseverance of his supporters kept his case afloat until it could no longer be ignored. Chin's case also helped fuel the fire for Asian American civil rights. Having a unified front of diverse allies allowed them to see the privileges they enjoy today.

Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, allyship is a commitment to preserving connection. Like individual strands on a web, we're strewn together by our shared humanity. One thread's disturbance impacts countless others, and if no one stitches the broken pieces back together, the entire ecosystem tears apart.

Our collective success requires all hands. Currently, underrepresented groups are forced to carry the burdens of erasure, their hard-earned resources taken away without a moment's notice. More than ever, we need allies to step up to the pulpit and speak against the changes threatening to unravel our societal progress at a corporate, economic, and political level.

Here's how to make your allyship count. 

Kamala Harris defined allyship as the following:

"And if we are lucky enough to be in a position of power, if our voice and our actions can mobilize change, don't we have a special obligation? Being an ally can't just be about nodding when someone says something we agree with—important as that is. It must also be about action. It's our job to stand up for those who are not at the table when life-altering decisions are made. Not just those people who look like us. Not just those who need what we need. Not just those who have gained an audience with us. Our duty is to improve the human condition—in every way we can, for everyone who needs it."

Speaking up for others, especially in protest of complicit silence, can be daunting. But if we know that we have a presence in the room and an invitation to speak freely, we must stand in the gap for those who can't.

1. Identify your role as an ally. 

There's no one right way to be an ally. Everyone carries different strengths at varying levels of influence. Some hold immense power in boardrooms; others possess various connections to competitive opportunities. Allyship encourages such individuals to open their hands and share their gifts with others. It challenges them to sacrifice some of their comfort for the good of the larger community.

Consider the following ally roles:

• The amplifier is loud and unrelenting—their job is to make noise, and they create plenty of it to draw attention to a cause. They make it impossible for people to dismiss underrepresented populations and adamantly preach equity until it comes to fruition.
  
  
• The educator sits with those who share different perspectives and experiences. They pursue answers to difficult questions, reflect on their privilege, and then leverage it to teach others to consider different perspectives. They're more than happy to spread the good word.
  
  
• The decision-maker has power in rooms full of key stakeholders. Sometimes, they are a stakeholder, and whatever they say goes. They use this to their advantage and push policies that benefit diverse talent pools.
  
  
• The caretaker creates safe spaces for people to land. Advocacy work is taxing, and cultivating a community that emphasizes self-compassion, compassion, and deep relationship-building is integral to refilling emptied cups. (During times of crisis, constant pouring requires frequent checkpoints for rest.)
  
  
• The strategist expertly maps tangible goals and action steps. They're the unofficial project manager who oversees all progress, pivoting and delegating wherever necessary. They strive to get the job done efficiently, one person at a time.

Start by embracing just one of these responsibilities, then gradually take on more as you grow. Allyship is proactive. The more you strengthen your support for others, the more wisdom and leadership you'll have to share with the world.

2. Discomfort is not the enemy. Lean into it. 

There's a stark difference between performative and authentic allyship. The former consists of fluffy words and surface-level promises, while the latter crawl through the trenches, scraping away at the ugliness with bare hands to unearth fertile ground.

When the communities we champion point out our growth areas, discomfort comes naturally—but it's important to endure it. Accountability is based on trust. People respect you enough to challenge your thinking and are willing to foster positive change within you. When you're called out for your well-intentioned falsities, try to listen with an open heart rather than feeling targeted.

3. Collaborate on an action plan.

There's no movement without a plan. We have much to learn from leaders who pioneered—and continue to pave—the way for civil rights and equity. Empowerment and allyship, though categorized as nouns, are strong action words. They require close collaboration and transparent communication between different communities, especially amid high tensions, unknown factors, and gargantuan adversaries.

Every step makes a difference; no contribution is too small to move the needle. Organize your to-do list, evolve your priorities as you see fit, and continue to tread forward, keeping the promise of inclusion at the top of your mind. Eventually, with helping hands, everyone will be able to raise their heads and find themselves at the summit, breathing freely.

This is the bright future we must envision.

Looking to be a CCWomen ally? We'd love for you to join us.