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When Aimee Allison was 14, her mother took her to see civil rights leader Jesse Jackson speak — and something changed in her.

Growing up black and biracial in a predominantly white community, Allison regularly experienced incidents of racism. And while she worked hard in school and wanted to someday attend college, it was hard to imagine herself as a leader. After all, she hadn't seen anyone in government who looked like her.

But listening to Jackson changed her whole idea of what her future could entail.


"It was the first time I heard an articulation of what was possible in our country's future by coming together across race," she says.

Image courtesy of Aimee Allison.

The experience inspired Allison to dream big: She wanted to become the first black female secretary of state. She dove into extracurricular activities to set herself up for success, and with each new challenge, she excelled. On her high school's speech and debate team, she did so well that she went on to compete at the national level. Eventually, she ran for student body president, and she won.

Then, when she was 17, she met a recruiter who convinced her that joining the Army Reserves and serving her country would bring her closer to achieving her dreams.

So she signed up and began her training — but it wasn't at all what she expected.

Image via Staff Sgt. Shawn Weismiller.

"I didn't start out as a person who wanted to pick up a gun," she explains.

The once passionate debater and leader quickly found the environment at odds with who she was. "In military training, there's two main things that you're taught," she says. "You follow orders, and you do not speak up."

So when her unit was called to fight in the first Gulf War, Allison felt the need to finally speak up. She didn't actually believe in going to war and knew her calling was elsewhere.

Image via Upworthy.

"There's an easy choice, which is to follow orders and say nothing," she says. "But my conscience, which is another way to say my heart, would not let me do it."

So instead of going to fight, she became a conscientious objector, which allowed her to be honorably discharged from the military so she was no longer expected to serve. It was a tough move to make, especially because her military training had told her not to question her orders. But she knew it was the right decision.

"Becoming a conscientious objector was my call to serving the country, to serving humanity," she says.

Image via Upworthy.

She learned in that moment that she had the ability to stand up for what she believes in.

"All of my work since my time as a teenager in the military has been to follow my heart, to do the thing that's right, and to be as courageous as I can," she says. "That's how I found who I was, and that's how I have been organizing my life ever since," she says.  

Remembering how powerful an experience it had been to see Jesse Jackson speak, she realized that she, too, could use her voice to engage her community in the political process.

Image via Upworthy.

Women of color are 20% of the U.S. population and yet only 4% of elected officials.And that's why Allison is speaking out to make sure people of color get more representation.

She's the president of Democracy in Color, an organization that mobilizes black and brown voters and supports progressive candidates of color in order to diversify the government.

Allison also hosts the Democracy in Color podcast, writes articles on women of color in government, and uses social media to engage potential voters in the issues that affect the lives of people of color.

While it's taken a lot of courage for her to follow her heart, Allison's journey is an important reminder that the right path is not always the easiest to take. Now, as a fierce advocate for her community, she's showing others that when the path is unclear, it's time to blaze a new trail.

Photo by Duy Pham on Unsplash

Friendship and support demonstrated through arm-in-arm picture.

In the early fall of 2016, French artist Marie-Shirine Yener, aka Maeril, had her first viral hit with a comic about how to stand up to Islamophobic harassment.

Maeril channeled her own experiences with street harassment as a woman of mixed Iranian, Turkish, Kurdish, and Armenian descent into the illustrated how-to guide for helping Muslims. But she also understood the irony that her voice as an ally resonated more loudly than the voices of actual Muslims who have been targeted.

"There is a tendency people have not to believe a minority group when they speak of oppression," she wrote in The Independent. "We always rely on some sort of a 'bridge' — a more familiar, non-Muslim person like me, in this situation — and I wish we didn't have to."


Maeril's first comic was meant to address the specific issue of Islamophobia. But readers realized that the lesson could apply in other situations, too.

Muslims are hardly the only marginalized group to suffer from unfair bullying, hate, or harassment. So rather than detract from or erase their unique and very-real struggle, Maeril created another illustrated how-to guide for being a better ally overall, especially at a time when hate crimes are on the rise.

"We need to protect those who don’t have the privilege of not fearing for their lives from now on," she said on Tumblr. "If we don’t have any support in the authorities, we must at least have each other, and stand strong in the face of adversity. I believe in you."

So if you want to be a better ally to people of color, people who are LGBTQ, people with disabilities, women, and others, these four steps are a great place to start:

comics, LGBTQ, community, equality,

A comic shares four easy ways to support the LGBTQ community.

All images by Maeril/Tumblr, used with permission.

"1. Listen. Be here for them. If they need you to escort them somewhere, do it. Don't take action without their agreement, like forcing them to report something to the police. Be open, and be ready to help."

"2. Compile emergency data. Look for useful informations concerning the minorities around you: Emergency hotlines, shelters, lawyers, therapists... You can also print your compilation and pin it in your town-hall, college campus, high school, etc."

"3. Enroll. Associations and shelters are going to be the backbone of the fight: networks & logistics they provide are vital. Consider joining one near you, or volunteering for online services and support hotlines. If you don't know where to start, reach out to NGOs to ask where you can be of any help."

"4. Educate. Share those steps with those who want to help. Tell them about what you learned: where to redirect who, the nearest trans youth shelter, a lawyer who specializes in racist hate crimes, therapists who provide accessibility solutions for people with disabilities, etc."

Across the world, people are waking up to the need to stand in solidarity with marginalized people. Lip service alone is not enough for equality.

Maybe recent events have made you aware of how many people in the world are still suffering. And maybe you're feeling a little overwhelmed by it all — you want to do your part to help, but there are just so many different words and terms to memorize and learn, all these different groups and identities to keep track of and try understand.

With so much ground to cover, it's tempting to just throw your hands up and say, "Forget it! I can't keep up! They don't need me!" But remember: A lot of people don't have that option. Their mere existence brings them hardship and struggle every day. Which is why they need your support — perhaps now more than ever.

So listen: You're gonna screw up. You're gonna make mistakes. That's OK.

But as this comic shows, if we truly believe in a better and more equitable society full of equal opportunities for everyone, then we all need to step up.

We need to do the work, learn, speak out (but not over other people), screw-up, get better, and keep moving forward, together. Let's get to it.

"How can someone tell me that this is America and I can't be Muslim here?"

Those are the words of undergraduate student Shahrin Azim. She is a 19-year-old neuroscience student who was one of eight people interviewed as part of an eye-opening photo series profiling Muslim American women ahead of the presidential election.

For Azim, learning about others being attacked for their beliefs is "excruciatingly painful," she said in an interview with the Turkish news site Anadolu Agency. And with hate crimes against Muslims on the rise, it's hard to see a silver lining.


"It's difficult to think about the things that are said to them ... that their people are terrorists and that they should go back to wherever they came from."

During this contentious election season it's easy for these individual voices to get lost in the static of scandals, leaks, and hateful rhetoric. But their perspectives shed a light on a topic that is rarely discussed.

Here are six of those voices talking about their experiences this election season:

1. Shabih Aftab, financial analyst for the Gap Inc.'s global online marketing team

Shabih Aftab photographed on Oct. 31, 2016. Photo by ​Mohammed Elshamy/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images​.

"As a hijabi woman, I am a prominent symbol of Islam and that makes people uncomfortable. Not only about me, but it makes them uncomfortable when I seek success. I try 10 times as hard for the same job than my non-Muslim counterparts work for. We need to accept that women, as it is, have unequal rights in the work place, but when you are a minority it's that much harder. With Islamophobia on the rise, I have to make myself stronger in my faith and steadfast in my morals. I cannot and will not change who I am to make others feel at ease and believe I am worthy of that job or that promotion. This is the same piece of advice I tell my younger sister. We are women who deserve a place at the table, not because we are Muslim, but because we are strong, confident, intelligent and conscious despite what Trump supporters want us to believe. We are told our hijabs hold us back and I firmly disagree. The hijab empowers me to be the best example I can be to show people that 'I am a force.'"

2. Sara Zayed, technology analyst on Wall Street

Sara Zayed photographed on October 28, 2016. Photo by ​Mohammed Elshamy/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images​.

"It's surreal that I'm regularly in the heart of New York during these tumultuous elections. As a Muslim woman, I've experienced more love than hatred this year — my non-Muslim friends have reinforced their respect and value for me and my identity, and I've never felt more propped up by people of different communities and backgrounds. However, that doesn't mean I don't experience fear. When New York was bombed last month and the bomber was revealed to be a Muslim man, I was terrified to go into the city, worried I may experience backlash as a visibly identifiable Muslim woman. So although I'm experiencing wonderful support, I'm also regularly on my guard and keep a look out for potential danger. I don't underestimate the fact that my hijab has now become a political statement. I firmly believe the best thing my Muslim sisters can do at this time is hold their heads high and continue to break barriers. That in itself is the greatest statement of strength we can offer the world."

3. Marwa Janini, immigration caseworker and instructor at City University of New York

Marwa Janini photographed on Oct. 29, 2016. Photo byMohammed Elshamy/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images.

"Growing up amidst the climate of Islamophobic rhetoric, I have faced many challenges that come with being a visible Muslim American woman. I have often had to defend my faith against unwarranted verbal attacks and misconceptions. These experiences were compounded with the paternalistic reality that exists in many Arab immigrant communities, and I am a living embodiment of a woman breaking the mold. While these experiences have had a role in shaping my identity as a Muslim American woman, I refuse to be confined by them. I choose to focus on the positive influence I can have as a successful Muslim American woman, breaking down barriers and proving that the narrative of oppression and voicelessness is baseless and untrue.

4. Mahroh Jahangiri, executive director at Know Your IX

Mahroh Jahangiri photographed on Oct. 25, 2016. Photo by ​Mohammed Elshamy/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images​.

"To be a Muslim woman doing anti-violence work in the United States right now is to really be filled with fury. On the one hand, there is a presidential candidate who has waged a campaign to silence women he’s sexually assaulted. As an advocate organizing against gender violence, I certainly welcome the ensuing outrage. It makes it harder to ignore the fact that gender violence is a very common problem. But, I find it hard not to still feel frustrated. I am frustrated that this candidate's comments (and the other candidate's policies) that have regularly hurt and killed so many people of color are not similarly sufficient to generate outrage. Yesterday, the bedroom of two Muslim girls at my little sister's university had 'terrorist' written on it. In the weeks prior, two friends were assaulted in anti-Muslim attacks. Where is mainstream outrage over stuff like this? ... This past week, my organization just published an 145-page Campus Organizing Toolkit on creating campaigns to fight violence. I am so excited to get this in the hands of young angry people. And I am so grateful to be surrounded by many angry women of color Muslim women, Native, Black, Latina women who are leading fights (against sexual assault, pipelines, against police & prisons) to end violence against people."

5. Nagla Bedir, social studies teacher

Nagla Bedir photographed on Oct. 29, 2016. Photo by ​Mohammed Elshamy/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images​.

"Although there has been a rise in hate speech and Islamophobia, I have been fortunate to work in a district filled with many supportive people. I have had to deal with dirty looks, and some negative comments from co-workers, and the overall ignorance of the majority of the people around me, but on the contrary, the majority of these ignorant people are very curious and willing to learn. … I think some people hear American Muslim and think that is a contradiction. … The ignorance that surrounds Muslims is very frustrating. People avoid coming near me, I get dirty looks and/or am stared at, and I’ve been called a terrorist, Taliban, and a rag-head. Islamophobia has been around since before 9/11 and it has increased and decreased throughout the years. Recently, it has become an even more vitriol disease plaguing our country. … From one extreme people telling me I shouldn’t wear hijab or follow Islam and then on the other end being told I’m too modern and don’t fit the mold of what a Muslim woman is supposed to be. … My family and friends have continuously pushed me to face adversities and succeed despite them. I am not afraid of failure and push myself to try to be the best at everything. What motivates me the most is my students. Their education is the number one priority in my life. So how am I successful woman despite all of these issues? The reason is them."

6. Shahrin Azim, undergraduate student in neuroscience

Shahrin Azim photographed on Oct. 31, 2016. Photo by Mohammed Elshamy/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images.

"As a Muslim woman, I can't help but think about all the young Muslims who are just starting to love their identity or recognize their roots, and how they are being bullied or beaten in school for following a faith that is so horribly misunderstood. It's difficult to think about the things that are said to them by their peers, teachers, and even other adults who they see every day, tell them that their people are terrorists and that they should go back to wherever they came from. People say, 'There is no room in this country for people like you! This is America!' Yes, it is America, a country founded on the values of religious freedom. The pilgrims escaped from England to come here and practice their faith. How can someone tell me that this is America and I can't be Muslim here. I wish that they would realize their hypocrisy. I wish that they could understand that I'm not a terrorist, nor am I associated with any of those groups. Islam is just another monotheistic religion that is very similar to Christianity and Judaism. It is not a faith that condones violence against innocent people, or oppresses women. My religion is part of who I am and I will not let anyone's hate strip me of my faith."

Now that the presidential election is here, these women are a powerful reminder of the many unheard voices.

It's important to have an open and honest discussion about what life in America is like for different people. In an election season like this, empathy — walking in someone else’s shoes — could be the most important tool we have.

Let your voice be heard and make sure to vote!

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When Madeleine Sami started off in theater, she found herself playing stereotypical roles for people of color.

The New Zealand filmmaker/writer/actress is half Fijian-Indian and half Kiwi with Irish heritage, and she found that there were not a lot of three-dimensional roles available to her.

According to a recent survey in New Zealand, only 38% of television writers are women. And a recent UCLA diversity report in Hollywood shows that minorities are underrepresented 2 to 1 in cable, scripted, and reality TV leads and that for women, it's about the same.


So she made a decision: She'd cast herself in the roles she wants.

She's not just one lead in her TV show, "Super City"; she cast herself in five lead roles.


GIF via NZonscreen on YouTube

"Super City" shows that an actor of color can play multiple roles — roles that even open-minded casting directors might never have considered!

When you're the writer of your own story — literally or figuratively — you can consider anything.

She wrote roles for herself like these:

— Pasha, a ditzy actress and socialite


All images via "Super City" trailer/YouTube.

— Azeem, a patriotic male cab driver

Did Sami do such an incredible and hilarious job in a male role that I'm reconsidering the necessity of casting based on gender? Those thoughts are forming.

— Linda, a middle-aged and uptight aspiring artist

— Jo, a fitness trainer grappling with her sexuality

— Georgie, a homeless mom trying to make it as a parent

And all in one show!

By both making her art and selling it on the entertainment market, Sami and her show are a powerful proving ground for the marketability of diverse voices in entertainment.

It was through social media, Facebook in particular, that Sami realized just how much people were really responding to her show.

GIF via NZonscreen/YouTube.

She says, "Someone set up a 'Super City' quotes page on Facebook. ... I had a look at it the other day ... people remember whole paragraphs of dialogue from the show!"

Because of Facebook, Sami was able to hear from her fans directly. She was able to get confidence directly from the people she was trying to reach. And things must've gone well with TV studios because the show got a second season!

Diverse characters, voices, and perspectives all interact in "Super City." It's a comedy, and if you watch the trailer, you'll see how funny it is but that something else is going on.

By having all the parts played by one person, we can see how alike we all are! It's pretty cool.

Watch the trailer for Sami's show and have a laugh!