There is no reasonable doubt that members of the LGBT community — particularly those who are POC — are struggling to gain recognition as deserving basic human rights. Erasure, invisibility, discrimination, violence, and hate are all things a queer individual may face on a daily basis. To the outside world, it seems as if the LGBT community needs all the help it can get.

So why is it rejecting straight allies who just want to help?

The short answer is that it isn’t rejecting straight allies at all; it’s trying to help them do better.

The long answer is as follows.

Straight allies are questioning articles like this one, which creates guidelines for straight and cisgender people who choose to attend pride parades and other LGBT-centric events. “Why assume that straight people who chose [sic] to attend Pride as allies will be jerks?” commented Suzanne M. Lambert, a self-proclaimed straight ally. Another person by the screen name Manda Panda wrote, “As an ally, I felt terrible reading this article! Not that I've ever done anything this author describes, but I felt these words driving yet another spike between our communities.”

It would be easy — and certainly interesting — to delve into the minutiae of this article and its reception, but for the sake of brevity, this piece will look at the bigger picture.

Straight allies may (and often do) feel cast out or unwanted when met with any type of pushback or rules for their presence at LGBT-centric events, which is reflected in the above example. The general perception that has led to internal conflict between queer people and straight allies is that the “good straight allies” are being lumped in with the “bad straight allies,” or even worse, hateful straight bigots. The “good straight allies” feel erased, unappreciated, and put to a higher standard of social awareness than other people.

Herein lies the problem: by proclaiming oneself a straight ally, one must take on the responsibility to be more socially aware. To learn, grow, become better, and continue to learn and grow and become better, is the key purpose of a straight ally to the LGBT community.

Being a straight ally takes a lot of effort toward personal growth. Even the best of straight allies started off as socially conditioned to reject the LGBT community. Legislation prevents anti-discrimination laws protecting queer individuals. Religious leaders denounce queer people as being sinful and worthy of eternal suffering and damnation. Peers in one’s own community may express exasperation with the slight mention of any person’s non-heterosexual, non-cisgender status with a phrase familiar to almost all queer individuals: “We get it, you’re gay.”

There is an immense amount of anti-LGBT rhetoric that is embedded in Western culture that manifests itself in innumerable ways. Some are ugly, some are hateful, but some are so microscopically subtle that it is impossible to recognize without a queer individual saying, “Hey, that’s wrong of you to do.” To be a straight ally is to recognize when one is using anti-LGBT rhetoric — with or without the help of others — and stop using it. And most of the time, when a queer individual tells a straight ally that they are doing something wrong, the queer individual is on the right.

When it comes down to it, the historical and social context of the LGBT community’s relationship with straight people has already driven a spike between both communities that can neither be removed nor ignored. It is the straight ally’s job to see the spike and learn from the people on the other side of it so they can not remove it, but transform it into a monument of the past. The frustration with many straight allies among the queer community is the phrase, “We’re all human beings,” which does nothing but erase the spike and pretend nothing ever happened. It is clear that we are all human beings. But one set of human beings can flirt with the rainbow side of the spike for a while to have fun, and the other must stay there forever to face the social consequences of being queer.

As long as someone is straight and cisgender, they can only be an ally to the LGBT community. And it is the straight ally’s job to recognize that no matter what they do, they will never be a part of the community; they can only be educated guests, seeking knowledge and doing their best to bring up those who have been left behind.

When a straight ally stops learning, they stop being an ally. When their activism stops at legalizing gay marriage, so does their allyship. When they accept the LGB but not the T, they are not an ally. Well, they can claim to be — but they are not fulfilling the most basic requirement to be a straight ally. If it wasn’t made clear enough, the requirement is a willingness to learn.

The irony of straight allies responding negatively to articles such as the one above is that it shows an unwillingness to think critically about the content of what they are reading. If a straight ally was secure in their practices as such, there would be no negativity. There would be a passive absorbance of information and recognition of one’s own behavior: “Have I ever done any of these things? What can I do to stop doing these things?”

It is the straight ally who rejects the information they are given that needs to hear the information most because their rejection shows the hold on their learning. The LGBT community doesn’t want to turn away straight allies who could do better — it just wants them to do better. Many queer people will present their criticism constructively, but many others will present it brutally. Neither forms of criticism are direct attacks on one straight ally (which might be you, reading this right now) unless that straight ally makes it about them. In which case, if the shoe fits, then walk a mile in it and see how it feels. Anger against allies is not personal. It’s a result of historical, repeated disappointments after so much hope for a better future. So don’t shame the anger; shame what caused it.

It is reasonable to say that any person will respond defensively when faced with the idea that they are not doing well enough. But to be a straight ally is to willingly open up oneself to the LGBT community as a person who wants to learn — and the learning never stops.