Understanding Performative Allyship

Pride Month becomes a spectacle—both joyful and commercialized. But come July 1st, the glitter often settles, the flags disappear, and the once-vocal supporters fall silent. The message is clear, even if unintended: queer lives are marketable—but only seasonally.

This is the uncomfortable reality of performative allyship. It’s when solidarity becomes a show, when support is shallow, and when the fight for LGBTQ+ rights is reduced to a brand aesthetic or a momentary social media post. But queer people do not stop being queer when July begins. The discrimination, violence, and marginalization they face continue throughout the year. So why doesn’t the allyship?

The discrimination, violence, and marginalization they face continue throughout the year. So why doesn’t the allyship?

It’s time we ask the hard question: Is our support real—or just trending?

Performative allyship refers to surface-level gestures of support made more for appearance than for real change. It’s when individuals, influencers, or companies publicly support a cause—often during peak visibility periods like Pride Month—without committing to meaningful action, advocacy, or accountability.

Examples include: Changing a logo to rainbow colors for June but donating to anti-LGBTQ+ politicians, sharing a Pride post but never confronting queerphobia in one’s own family or workplace, hosting a Pride-themed sale but refusing to hire or promote openly LGBTQ+ employees.

These acts may be well-intentioned, but they ring hollow when not backed by substance. Worse, they can co-opt queer struggles for profit while ignoring the very real oppression queer communities endure year-round.

To many LGBTQ+ individuals, Pride is not just a parade—it’s a reminder of resistance. It marks the Stonewall Uprising of 1969, a moment when queer and trans people, led by Black and brown trans women like Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera, fought back against police brutality and systemic erasure. Pride was born from protest, not profit.

So when allyship becomes seasonal or superficial, it undermines this history. It reduces a radical legacy to a marketing opportunity. More importantly, it fails to protect queer people in the moments they need it most—outside the limelight of June.

Queer youth continue to face bullying and homelessness. Trans people, especially trans women of color, face disproportionately high rates of violence and murder. In many countries, queer existence is still criminalized. In this context, lukewarm, temporary support is not just insufficient—it’s complicit.

In recent years, brands have jumped on the Pride bandwagon. From rainbow-themed sneakers to glittery campaigns, companies often position themselves as allies. But allyship can’t be bought—and certainly shouldn’t be sold.

From rainbow-themed sneakers to glittery campaigns, companies often position themselves as allies.

True support means hiring and protecting LGBTQ+ employees, not just during hiring seasons or public controversies, but through long-term commitment to equity in the workplace. It involves donating to queer-led grassroots organizations that are directly working on the ground to uplift and empower marginalized voices. It also means standing up against discriminatory laws and practices, both locally and globally, and not remaining neutral in the face of injustice. Most importantly, it requires taking a public stance—even when it’s not profitable, trendy, or widely accepted—because real allyship demands courage, consistency, and conscience.

The problem is not with brands participating in Pride—it’s with brands that only participate when it benefits them. If your company goes quiet the moment Pride Month ends, or if it quietly supports anti-LGBTQ+ legislation behind closed doors, you’re not an ally—you’re an opportunist.

It’s not just corporations—individuals, too, must reflect on the depth of their allyship. Being an ally is not a self-appointed label. It is a continuous practice, a verb rather than a noun.

. Being an ally is not a self-appointed label. It is a continuous practice.

Genuine allyship is all year round: It starts with educating yourself on queer histories, identities, and rights—without placing the burden of teaching on queer individuals. It means speaking up against queerphobic jokes, slurs, and violence, even when it’s uncomfortable or unpopular in your circles. It involves voting for policies and leaders who prioritize and protect LGBTQ+ rights. Genuine allyship also includes supporting queer creators, activists, and businesses consistently—not just during Pride Month, but throughout the year. Most importantly, it’s about making space for queer voices without taking over that space; centering their stories, struggles, and successes without making yourself the focus.

Allyship is not about looking good—it’s about doing good, often quietly, when no one’s watching.

One of the reasons performative allyship stings so deeply is that it adds to the emotional labor queer people already carry. Every June, they’re expected to educate, inspire, entertain, and engage—often with little support, compensation, or follow-up.

Imagine being invited to speak on a Pride panel in June, only to be excluded from conversations about hiring, strategy, or inclusion the rest of the year. Imagine seeing rainbow posts from friends who’ve never defended you when you were harassed. This selective support feels less like love—and more like a transaction.

To be a true ally, one must be willing to risk comfort for justice. This means being unpopular in certain rooms, standing firm when policies threaten queer rights, and doing the slow, often invisible work of solidarity.

It also means understanding that queer people are not a monolith. A white gay man’s experience is not the same as that of a Dalit trans woman. Intersectionality must guide allyship. If your support is only extended to queer people who "look like you" or who make you comfortable, then it’s conditional, not radical.

Allyship must be rooted in action, sustained over time, and guided by humility.

Allyship must be rooted in action, sustained over time, and guided by humility.

Pride Month is a powerful catalyst. It brings visibility, joy, and awareness. But it is not the end goal—it is the beginning of deeper engagement.

So what can be done after July 1st? You can continue supporting LGBTQ+ organizations both financially and vocally, recognizing that their work doesn’t stop when the parades do. Uplift queer artists, authors, and activists in your personal and professional circles, ensuring their voices are heard and valued.

Take time to educate yourself on current issues affecting the LGBTQ+ community—such as anti-trans legislation, conversion therapy, or discriminatory blood donation bans—and stay informed and engaged. Most importantly, check your privilege, reflect on your actions, listen to marginalized voices, and be willing to adjust your behavior. And keep the rainbow flag up—not as a seasonal aesthetic, but as a symbol of your continued commitment, visibility, and accountability.

Because love, justice, and equity are not seasonal values.

Allyship is not a costume to be worn in June and folded away in July. It is not measured by likes or hashtags. It is measured by consistency, courage, and care. It is seen in who you hire, who you defend, who you platform, and who you protect.

Pride is not a party for the privileged—it’s a protest for the marginalized. If you celebrated queer joy in June, make sure you’re also standing with queer pain in October. If you wore the rainbow this month, carry the responsibility that comes with it the rest of the year.

Because love is not a trend.

It’s a commitment.

About the Author

I am Sanchari Mukherjee, a student doing Masters in English from the reputed Presidency University, Calcutta. I love writing and appreciate art in all forms. Being a literature major, I have learnt to critically comment on things of various kinds. I take a deep interest in deconstructing the various essential structures and revealing the mechanisms of their working. Really glad that you came across my blog, hope you found it covering some critical insights essential for progress!