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“Hey white women, real allyship does not require a cheap fashion accessory.” That’s the loud and clear message some Black women have for their white peers, who in the midst of Vice President Kamala Harris’ failed presidential bid, have taken to wearing blue friendship bracelets to signal — mostly to each other but also to women of color — that they supported her at the polls.
On TikTok, the “blue bracelet trend” went viral just days after the election when several white women posted videos saying they wished there was a way they could let each other know which side they’re on and who they can trust.
“Is it like blue friendship bracelets? … How do I know?” a white mom asked in a now-viral video, referring to possible ways she and others could set themselves apart from the 53% of white women who according to exit polls voted for Donald Trump.
Countless women in the comments cheered the bracelet idea saying they were “here for it.” And I mean, at first thought …sure. It sounds like a cute enough idea, right?
In New Jersey, several Black women told me that’s precisely the problem: That the trend’s just another very “cute” and “highly performative” way for well-meaning white women to “virtue signal” and make themselves feel better in a time in which many people are blaming them for helping Trump win back the White House. (And white women have been here before: In 2020, the same share of white women that voted for Trump over Harris in this year’s election, supported Trump over Biden four years ago, according to exit polls.)
The blue bracelet trend is simply this year’s version of 2016′s pink, knitted pussycat hat or 2020′s black squares on Instagram and Facebook “showing support” for the Black Lives Matter movement. Remember how neither of those “efforts” led to significant change?
Many of the Black women I spoke to — who, of course, don’t speak for all Black women — told me that white women, who want to be real allies to Black people and others routinely maligned by Trump, should forgo the blue bracelets and focus instead on having difficult, and perhaps even uncomfortable, conversations with friends and relatives about how their political actions affect people from historically disenfranchised communities.
Some said they should turn to activism and pay close attention to upcoming elections at the local and state level in between the presidential races. And others told me that true allyship means knowing when to “take a beat” to listen to those most affected by a situation and follow their lead, instead of trying selfishly to draw attention and center yourself.
“There’s a lot of guilt and a lot of finger-pointing [among white women] right now,” Courtney Wheeler, a 41-year-old Black woman who lives in Jersey City, candidly told me Monday.
At a restaurant in New York City this past weekend, Wheeler says she was approached by a white woman — “a complete stranger” — who asked her if she had voted for Harris. “When I said ‘yes,’ she quickly assured me she had voted for her too and then started apologizing to me, saying how sorry she was about the election and going on and on about how much I must have on my mind about it.”
Wheeler says the awkward interaction left her “sort of shocked and speechless.” “I don’t want this for four more years,” she said vehemently. “I don’t want blue bracelets or random white people coming up to me and apologizing, and I know other Black people, and especially Black women, don’t want this either. It just feels weird and self-serving and I think that the more people know that, the better.”
The bracelet trend, Wheeler told me, reminds her of “when white people started sending Black people money on Venmo after George Floyd’s death, as some kind of ‘reparations.’” “I mean, talk about the most low-lift thing you can possibly do, like ‘Look at me, I’m one of the good ones’ and it’s just like ‘OK. I don’t care. Want a pat on the back? This isn’t going to solve any of our problems.’”
Jill Goldsberry, who like Wheeler is a Black woman in her 40s and lives in Jersey City, says though she thinks the bracelet idea is in theory “a nice effort,” when it comes down to it comes across as “grossly performative.” “Where was all this creativity three months ago?” she says laughingly.
“The facts are the facts and the fact is that more than half of white women voted against 100% of all women in this country,” she says, “And that’s something that we can’t change, no matter what anyone decides to wear.” Here’s another fact: Only 7% of Black women voted for Trump in this year’s election, according to exit polls.
Shanique Taliaferro, founder of Black Women New Jersey, a private Facebook group for Black women in the Garden State with 18,000 members, agrees with Wheeler and Goldsberry about the performative nature of the bracelet trend.
“Anyone can wear a blue bracelet,” she tells me. “It doesn’t really prove you voted this way or that way, we don’t know what they hit when they were inside the polling booth so the way I feel about it is ‘please, white women’ and you know with all due respect, ‘we don’t need you guys wearing these bracelets,’” she said.
“We needed you guys on the campaign trail, we needed you guys in the videos [on social media] drumming up support for [Harris,] we needed you guys out there talking to other folks, rallying for votes, and yeah maybe even with blue bracelets on, but that was before the election …not now.”
The consensus in her group about the turnout of the election, and all the bizarre, election-related things that have gone viral in its aftermath, she says, is one of perplexion and bewilderment. “Some days we don’t even know how to feel,” she says. “There’s so many deep emotions and things to think about and consider and now, they’re getting attention with blue bracelets.”
Sometimes, Taliaferro tells me, the most helpful thing a true ally can really do is just “be still.”
“I don’t really think that now is the time for them to go and try to figure it out, like, just start making things up with bracelets,” she says. “We don’t need them trying to coordinate or mobilize on our hurt, on our pain, and have them trying to, you know, unify.” She suggests for white women and others wanting to show allyship to reach out to groups and organizations led by Black people “and if you genuinely want to help, ask them how.”
The truth is that moving forward as a country in the highly tumultuous, unchartered waters of a second Trump presidency will require every one of us to commit to a sincere coalition. Black and brown people don’t want or need white saviors. What we’d like is people alongside us, in the trenches, helping us do the heavy lifting that’s needed in our continued fight for justice and equality, in our continued fight for the betterment of our lives and the lives of those we love.
People — yes, even those with the best intentions — need to recognize that this election was deeply taxing for Black women and other people in marginalized communities. They need to understand that. And give us, people of color, the room we need to catch our breaths.
“We’re going to need some time to analyze what happened in this election,” Taliaferro says. “As a community, we need to pause, and be in solitude, for a moment.”“Yes, it’s too much foolishness,” Goldsberry adds. “And as a collective, us Black women, are tired.”
Daysi Calavia-Robertson may be reached at [email protected]. Follow her on Instagram at @presspassdaysi or Twitter @presspassdaysi. Our journalism needs your support. Please subscribe today to NJ.com. Here’s how to submit an op-ed or Letter to the Editor. Bookmark NJ.com/Opinion. Follow us on Twitter @NJ_Opinion and on Facebook at NJ.com Opinion. Get the latest news updates right in your inbox. Subscribe to NJ.com’s newsletters.