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Allyship is holding the rope

Allyship isn’t a badge, a march or a post that says “I’m a good person.” It’s what you do when it’s hard, when it costs you something, and when no one is watching.

Ask people if they’re an ally and almost everyone says yes. Watch what happens when being an ally has a cost, and the picture gets more honest. That gap — between declaring allyship and doing it — is where Joanne Lockwood’s metaphor lands: hold the rope.

The problem with performative allyship

It’s never been easier to look like an ally. A lanyard, a logo, a post in the right month. None of that is bad — visibility matters — but it’s not the same as allyship. The risk is that the badge becomes the work, and nothing actually changes for the people it’s meant to help.

“Allyship is more than just self-promotion or self-declaration — ‘yay, I’m going on a march because I’m a good person.’ Yes, do take part, do be visible, do show up — but it’s more than that.” — Joanne Lockwood, Inclusion Bites (“Rebel Hearts and Healing Paths”)

What “hold the rope” means

Picture someone whose weight is on a rope, and you’re holding the other end. Holding the rope isn’t the photo at the top of the climb — it’s the grip when their full weight comes on, when your arms are tired, when letting go would be easier. Allyship is the same. It’s turning up when the conversation is awkward, putting your own capital on the line, and staying when it’s no longer convenient or fashionable. Anyone can wave at the bottom of the cliff. Allies hold the rope.

Call people in, not out

Holding the rope also shapes how you challenge. Calling people out — shaming them publicly — feels righteous, but it makes people defensive and drives behaviour underground. Calling people in does the opposite. It assumes good intent and opens a door: “I don’t understand why that’s funny,” or “Have you thought about it this way?” It’s the same instinct as Smile, Engage, Educate — bring people with you, because change built on understanding lasts and change built on shame evaporates.

Everyday allyship

  • Amplify. Make sure good ideas are credited to the people who had them.
  • Sponsor, don’t just mentor. Spend your capital opening doors, not only giving advice.
  • Challenge quietly. Say something when you spot unfairness — it rarely needs a grand proclamation.
  • Check in. A simple “are you OK?” to a colleague having a hard week is allyship in action.
  • Use your privilege. Spend the advantages you have to create opportunities others were never offered.

From intention to holding the rope

Most people genuinely want to be good allies; what they lack is the confidence and the practical habits. That’s the work Joanne does with leaders and teams — turning good intentions into the everyday behaviours that make allyship real. Explore the LGBTQIA+ Inclusion & Pride and Inclusive Culture & Belonging topics, or hear allyship explored on the Inclusion Bites podcast.

Build a culture of real allies

Book a free 30-minute discovery call to talk through a keynote or workshop that moves your people from performative to genuine allyship.

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Frequently asked questions

What does “hold the rope” mean in allyship?

“Hold the rope” is Joanne Lockwood’s metaphor for real allyship: if someone’s weight is on the line, you don’t let go — even when it’s hard, costs you something, or no one is watching. It’s the difference between saying you’re an ally and actually being there when it matters.

What is the difference between performative and genuine allyship?

Performative allyship is about being seen to be an ally — the badge, the march, the social post that says “I’m a good person”. Genuine allyship is about action that may cost you: amplifying others, sponsoring them, challenging unfairness, and staying when it’s uncomfortable. Visibility is fine, but it isn’t the same as holding the rope.

How do I call someone in rather than call them out?

Calling out shames people publicly and makes them defensive. Calling in assumes good intent and opens a conversation: “I don’t understand why that’s funny,” or “Have you thought about it this way?” It invites people to do better without humiliation — which is how change actually sticks.