Advocating for Black Communities Is Not Anti Anyone. It Is About Protection.

One of the most common assumptions people make about Black advocates for Black communities is that our work is rooted in hostility toward others.

That if you choose to speak openly about Black community issues, you must be anti-white. Anti-Asian. Anti-Latino. Anti-something.

That assumption is wrong. It misses the point entirely and, quite frankly, serves as proof of why Black advocacy is still necessary.

As someone with a lifelong commitment to Black issues and now the founder of a nonprofit centered on Black voices, I recently found myself in a position where I was asked to describe my organization’s work. Without thinking, I instinctively prefaced my explanation with, “This is not to say that I have anything against white people.” Almost immediately, I felt irritated with myself and with the systems that conditioned me to believe such a disclaimer was required in the first place.

A Black person advocating for Black communities is not some mythical form of reverse racism or discrimination. It is an act of responsibility to a community by someone who belongs to it and understands its unique challenges. It comes from firsthand knowledge of lived experience and a clear understanding of the work required to address harm that has long been inflicted on that community.

Discernment Is Not Exclusion

What many people interpret as exclusion is, in fact, discernment.

In the United States, the work of Black advocacy is delicate. It carries more than 400 years of lived experience, generational trauma, political realities, and systems that were designed to marginalize Black people and continuously shape-shift into new forms of oppression with each generation. Because of this history, Black people do not have the luxury of moving casually in equity work. We cannot treat access as automatic allyship, and we cannot afford to ignore the consequences of granting proximity to the wrong people while working to create meaningful change for Black communities.

For Black advocates, community workers, and thought leaders, the people in our inner circles matter. They influence decisions, shape conversations, and directly affect personal safety, community well-being, and the integrity of the vision itself. When the work is fragile and the stakes are high, trust cannot be based on “they seem like cool people.” It becomes a requirement. One person given the wrong level of access can alter the course of the work and stall the progress of an already disenfranchised community.

Being a Black advocate means understanding the fragility of the role and the responsibility that comes with it. This is not race elitism. It is protection.

Allyship Without Inner Work Still Causes Harm

Many people genuinely believe they are allies. Some are well-meaning. Some are curious. Some show up loudly in moments that feel comfortable. Some simply want a good photo to post on social media for likes and shares.

But self-proclaimed allyship without self-examination is dangerous.

When allowed into Black spaces, unaddressed bias, savior thinking, defensiveness, fragility, and the need to center oneself can quietly undermine Black-led work. Even subtle behaviors, such as questioning the validity of a Black person’s trauma, dismissing situational discomfort, or requiring constant education, can drain the energy needed to move progress forward.

Research from the Harvard Implicit Bias Project has consistently shown that many people who consciously reject racism still hold unconscious racial biases, underscoring why self-identified allyship without internal work can still cause harm.

Good intentions do not cancel out harmful impact.

Those of us who do this work have learned, often through painful experience, that proximity to people who have not done the necessary internal work can lead to excessive emotional labor, conflict, and real harm. Boundaries are not gatekeeping. They are a form of protection against derailing a movement.

Harm Does Not Always Come From Outside

For Black advocates, there is another difficult truth that is often harder to say out loud.

Not all harm comes from outside the Black community.

Historical records, including documentation of the FBI’s COINTELPRO program, show how Black-led movements were deliberately undermined through surveillance, infiltration, and internal disruption. This history makes clear that harm has not always come from outside forces alone, and that discernment has long been a necessary safeguard rather than an act of suspicion.

Because of this reality, caution must be applied intentionally.

Your inner circle and the access you grant have a significant impact on the fruitfulness of your work.

Underlying motivation and true alignment matter more than surface-level mission statements. Entire communities can lose access to progress, safety, or opportunity simply because someone doing the work allowed the wrong person a seat at the table.

Safeguards Are How the Work Survives

Guarding our inner circles is not about dislike of “others.” It is about the sustainability of work that has been entrusted to us.

When you are carrying work rooted in justice, truth, and community accountability, you cannot afford constant distractions from people who do not understand the weight of the responsibility. You cannot afford to explain your humanity on demand because someone feels offended. And you cannot afford to sacrifice the safety of the vision for the sake of appearing accessible or all-embracing.

Black advocacy is not a rejection of others. It is an affirmation that America has yet to fully address the harm embedded in its history, and that continued work is still required.

Advocating for Black communities is not a declaration against anyone else. It is a declaration that Black lives, voices, and futures deserve care, intention, and protection. Most often, it is Black people who carry the unwavering historical understanding and commitment required to sustain this work.

Those who work alongside Black communities and do the work respect the boundaries.

Those who have taken the time to unpack the Black struggle do not take discernment personally.

And those who truly want to stand alongside Black advocates do the inner work required to ensure their presence does not cause harm.

Black advocacy is not divisive. It carries responsibility.

Lana Reid founded Conversations in Color, a nonprofit focused on amplifying Black voices through conversation, storytelling, and community projects. Her work promotes equity, cultural responsibility, and environments that support Black advocacy, healing, and honesty.