Intersectionality, Pride, and Allyship: Why 'Accompliceship' Might Be the Real Call to Action.
- 23 hours ago
- 4 min read

Pride Month and social justice aren't separate conversations
Pride and social justice are deeply interconnected. You can't pull them apart if you're serious about change, because Pride didn't emerge from nowhere. It emerged from people fighting systems that excluded them. When we talk about LGBTQ+ inclusion as if it's a single, neat category, we miss something important: identity doesn't work in isolated layers.
Intersectionality: multiple marginalisations, not just one
Black and brown LGBTQ+ people often experience several forms of marginalisation at once, not one identity stacked neatly on top of another, but overlapping pressures that show up differently depending on context.
This is what intersectionality actually means in practice: the way race, sexuality, gender, religion, class and other characteristics overlap to shape a person's experience of discrimination, rather than acting as separate, isolated categories. The experience of marginalisation often comes from more than one direction at the same time. One useful way to think about this: identity is like a pie. Different slices can be "more raised" than others depending on the room you're in, the system you're navigating, or the history behind it. Sometimes your race is the loudest thing in the room. Sometimes it's your sexuality. Sometimes it's both, layered with religion, gender, or class, all at once.
This is why we're talking about systems, not just individuals. Discrimination isn't only the result of someone being unkind. It's built into structures, legal, religious, cultural and more, that require us to challenge them.
Religion and LGBTQ+ inclusion: why this conversation matters
One of the more uncomfortable threads in this conversation was religion, specifically how belief systems can be used to justify both racial and sexual oppression. There's a phrase that stuck with me: a theology that doesn't side with the oppressed isn't really living up to its own values. That's not an attack on faith. It's a challenge to anyone, religious or not, to ask whether the systems they're part of are actually doing what they claim to do. Because here's the harder truth: safe spaces are fragile when the systems around them haven't changed. You can build a sanctuary inside a structure that's still doing harm. That doesn't make the sanctuary meaningless, but it does mean the work isn't finished just because one room feels safer.
Representation isn't the finish line for EDI
It's tempting to treat visibility as the goal. More representation, more seats at the table, more faces that "look different" in leadership. That matters. But it's not enough on its own.
Real progress means dismantling the structural barriers that kept people excluded in the first place, not just inviting people into rooms that weren't built with them in mind.
That means inclusion can't be surface-level. It has to be:
Structural: built into policy, not just sentiment
Intentional: designed on purpose, not left to chance
Diverse: Inclusive of and for all identities and characteristics
Equitable: fair for everyone, and that means absolutely everyone
Ongoing: a practice, not a one-time initiative
Inclusive leadership means building with communities, not for them
Maybe the most important shift is this: real change happens with the people most affected, not for them from a distance. That means listening before designing. It means asking people what equity actually looks like for them, rather than assuming we already know. It means recognising that "equality for some" was never equitable for all.
So, what now? A call to action for all
I left that conversation with a question I'm still sitting with: how am I going to speak differently, act differently, show up differently? Because there is always more we can do, more we can learn and more opportunities for us to act. One word came up in that conversation that I want to discuss is accomplice. It's the third time I've heard it in an inclusion forum now, and I don't think that's a coincidence. Allyship can sometimes get treated as a label, something you adopt once and call yourself. Accompliceship is different. It asks what you're actually willing to risk, not just what you're willing to say.
Being an ally is a starting point. Being an accomplice means putting something on the line, your comfort, your social capital, your standing in a room, to actually move the needle. It's the difference between agreeing privately and acting publicly. Between supporting from a distance and standing close enough that it costs you something too.
That's the real takeaway for me: inclusion, allyship, accompliceship requires us to be active and relentless. Inclusion is about creating systems where everyone can genuinely thrive and that starts with getting honest about the roots, not just managing the symptoms. That's the foundation of systemic inclusion work: structural, intersectional, and built for the long term.
This piece is written by The Inclusion Edit Founder Rebekah Hayward, it reflects on themes raised during a panel discussion on social justice and LGBTQ+ rights that she attended. If this resonates with the work you're trying to do in your business, school or organisation, The Inclusion Edit offers consultancy, training, and resources built around exactly this kind of systemic, structural approach to inclusion. Reach out to us here: https://www.theinclusionedit.com/contact-us


