The Power of Calling It Out (or In): What Real-World Allyship Looks Like
- Trish Driver
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 22 minutes ago

One of the most common questions we get during our inclusive leadership and allyship workshops is:“What do I actually do when someone says or does something that doesn’t sit right?”
It’s rarely the big, dramatic incidents that trip people up - these are (usually) obvious. What tends to create real tension are the grey areas - the moments that make you wince, that feel off, but that aren’t quite loud enough to draw gasps around the room.
In these moments, people often freeze. They don't want to overreact. They don’t want to be the one who “makes it awkward.” So the moment passes, and the discomfort lingers.
We talk a lot in our programmes about the importance of calling out poor behaviour - or better yet, calling people in to a conversation about how they could show up more inclusively. And even though I live and breathe this work professionally, these moments can still catch me off guard in my personal life.
A Real-Life Example
Recently, my daughter and I started volunteering with a local charity. She’s autistic, and after a very tough year with her mental health, this opportunity felt like a fresh start for both of us.
At our second volunteer session, we were hit with a trifecta of microaggressions:
Someone insisted she “give a proper handshake” - despite her discomfort with touch
Another person compared a badly behaved animal to “an autistic child”
A third commented how lovely it was to meet a young person who “doesn’t have a (insert air quotes here) mental health problem”
I quietly asked my daughter if she wanted me to say something after the first comment. She said no - she didn’t want to make a fuss. But after a conversation later that day, she said something that stopped me in my tracks:
“If they don’t accept me for who I am, then I don’t want to be here.”
So, with the backing of my trusted WhatsApp parent squad (parents of other neurodivergent kids), I drafted a group message to the volunteer team. Not a call-out to shame, but a gentle (well - as gentle as I could muster), direct message hoping to educate and set some boundaries. I knew these were kind, well-meaning people. They just hadn’t had the right information.
I hit send. And then… I waited (with exceptionally clammy palms - I hate confrontation).
What Happened Next
Two people sent thoughtful, genuine apologies - one even shared part of their own story, and I left the conversation feeling like I knew them far better
One gave a slightly half-hearted “sorry if you were offended” (you can’t win them all)
Others who weren’t even present thanked us for speaking up
The charity who runs the volunteering thanked us for calling this out, and encouraged us to share anything else which happens in the future.
The real win? My daughter now feels safe to go back. She’s proud. And honestly, so am I.
What This Taught Me (and Could Help You Too)
Even when you're someone who teaches inclusive communication, it's hard to speak up - especially when you're protecting someone you love, or when you really don’t want to make a scene.
But that’s exactly why we need to normalise these conversations.
So here are a few extra tips I’m adding to our usual "Calling It In/Out" Toolkit for leaders and allies:
“Better later than never” – it’s OK if you didn’t say something in the moment. Follow up matters too.
Assume positive intent – it doesn’t mean excusing behaviour, but it does help the message land.
Let people know the impact – not just what happened, but why it matters.
Use the power of “we” – frame your feedback as something that helps everyone do better.
Involve the person affected (if safe and appropriate) – centring their voice gives the message more authenticity.
Why This Matters for Inclusive Leadership
Whether you're leading a team, running a community initiative, or raising a family, being inclusive isn't about perfection. It's about being proactive, open to feedback, and willing to lean into uncomfortable moments when they happen.
That’s the kind of leadership we build in our workshops, and stories like this remind me how vital that work is.
My daughter reminded me of something powerful: Allyship means knowing when to speak up, and choosing to do it with care.
Want to build stronger allyship and inclusive leadership in your organisation?
Explore our workshops or get in touch - we'd love to support your journey.
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