“A Certain Terror”: A White Male Perspective on Being an Ally

“But that raises another thorny question: Given all the excellent books by women and people of color, why am I writing at all? Why am I not simply recommending other people’s work to men and white people?”

Although the rather inelegant term “allyship” had not yet become part of the social-justice lexicon, I first bumped into the complexity of being an ally in 1988 when I belatedly started to take feminism seriously.

I was following a feminist anti-pornography group that challenged men’s use and abuse of women in the sexual-exploitation industries. That is the term I use for pornography, prostitution, massage parlors, escort services—all the ways that men routinely buy and sell objectified female bodies for sexual pleasure.

The organization was founded and led by women but had one key male volunteer who helped to run the office. After I had hung around long enough to demonstrate that I was serious about being part of the effort, Jim Koplin took me aside for a talk about the role of men. “If you want to be part of this because you want to save women, we don’t want you,” he said.

I was confused. Wasn’t the point of critiquing men’s sexual exploitation of women to help women? Yes, Jim said, but too many men who get involved in such work see themselves as the proverbial knight in shining armor, charging in to save women. They usually turn out not to be trustworthy because they are in it for their egos—not to challenge patriarchal masculinity but to play the hero. “You have to be in it for yourself,” he said, “but not to prove how special you are.”