Recently, I sat through a half-day workshop about being an ally. The organizers spent about an hour talking about what that meant to them, and how great they were at it.

Men talked about being allies to women. And women talked about being allies to LGBT communities. And so on.

One of our VPs talked about what a good job he was doing at creating a more safe and open workplace. Then a woman raised her hand. She stood up and explained some problems she was having in his office.

Boy, was she in for a surprise. The VP started arguing with her. He politely accused her of not following the right protocols. Even suggested she might’ve been too impatient. So basically, he silenced her. Because she contradicted his narrative of being a good ally.

At the same workshop, people were told what qualifies them to be LGBT. Or how it feels to have an LGBT friend. They bragged about how much it didn’t bother them when their friend came out.

Not long after that, a coworker told me I wasn’t autistic. Why? As he explained, “You don’t act like it.”

See, a friend of his had an autistic son. This made him an expert.

True, I’ve spent a lot of time learning how to hide all of my weirdness and accommodate to everyone else’s expectations. And because of that, I’m not entitled to any accommodations of my own.

Sadly this is what allieship can turn into. Some men decide to call themselves feminists and allies. They partner up with some privileged women to hold workshops where they tell everyone else how to act.

I’ve even seen some men express sympathy for single moms, and then use that very status of single-motherhood as a pretext to explain what kinds of career choices they should be making. Since you’re a single mom, you should do this. Not that. And when the single mom disagrees, they start acting exactly like the alpha male assholes they claim to abhor. They want credit for being woke feminists. But when it really matters, they drop the ball. They’re not sexist though. You’re just stupid.