

Every year, January 26 rolls around and the same conversations surface. Some people are celebrating, some are grieving, some are angry, and some are exhausted by having to explain again why this date hurts.
For many non-Indigenous Australians, the question becomes, well, what am I supposed to do?
Allyship isn’t about having the perfect answer. It’s about being willing to sit with the discomfort, to listen instead of defend, and to act with intention rather than ego. On January 26 allyship isn’t loud or performative. It’s conscious, informed and respectful.
Quick facts before we get into it. January 26 marks the arrival of the first fleet in 1788 and the beginning of British colonisation for Australia. For Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island peoples, this date represents invasion, dispossession, violence and the start of intergenerational trauma that is still very much alive today.
“Australia Day” only became a public holiday in 1994 — while the date is officially recognised as Australia Day, it’s widely referred to as Invasion Day, Survival Day or Day of Mourning.
These aren’t alternative labels for shock value — they reflect lived experience.

Allyship starts with acknowledging this truth without minimising it. It means resisting the urge to say “but it was a long time ago” or “I didn’t do it”. Allyship isn’t about personal blame, it’s about collective responsibility.
The impacts of colonisation didn’t end in the 1700s. They show up in health disparities, incarceration rates, child removal, land right disputes and systemic inequality. Pretending otherwise doesn’t make those realities disappear; it just makes them easier to ignore.
One of the most important things allyship looks like on January 26 is listening to First Nations voices and following their lead. This might sound obvious but its often where people stumble.
Instead of centring your own feelings, confusion, guilt or defensiveness, allyship asks you to take a step back and check “who should I be learning from right now?” Read, listen, attend events and amplify First Nations voices.
Another key part of allyship is understanding that there is no single right way to mark the day. Some people march, some people attend Survival Day events, some reflect quietly, some choose to rest. Allyship respects all of this.
It doesn’t police how others process grief or resistance, and it doesn’t demand education or emotional labour from First Nations people on demand.

Allyship also means being willing to challenge harmful narratives, especially in everyday conversations. This might look like correcting misinformation when someone says January 26 is the day Australia became a nation or gently pushing back when someone dismisses the call to change the date as overreacting. These moments can feel uncomfortable, particularly in family or social settings but allyship isn’t about being liked, its about being honest.
Importantly, allyship on January 26 should not stop at a single Instagram post! While sharing resources or messages of solidarity can be helpful, performative allyship ends where accountability begins.
Real allyship asks, “What am I doing beyond today”? That means supporting First Nations-led organisations, donating if you have the means, shopping from Indigenous businesses, or committing to ongoing education rather than ticking the box once a year.
It also means recognising privilege not as something to feel ashamed of, but as something to be used responsibly. If you are not personally impacted by January 26 that doesn’t invalidate your feelings but it does mean you have more capacity to listen, learn and support without being traumatised. Allyship uses that capacity thoughtfully.
Another overlooked aspect of allyship is accepting that you will make mistakes. You might use the wrong language, you might not know something, you might get corrected. Allyship doesn’t collapse under correction; it grows from it. Being defensive shuts down conversation; being open keeps it moving forward.

Ultimately, allyship on January 26 is about recognising that this date does not hold the same meaning for everyone. It’s about choosing compassion over comfort and understanding that celebration for some comes at the cost to others, and being willing to question whether that’s something we want to continue.
January 26 doesn’t ask everyone to agree; it asks us to listen, to reflect, to acknowledge the truth of our shared history and the realities of the present. Allyship isn’t about having all the answers its about staying present, staying accountable and staying committed after the day is over.
Allyship isn’t seasonal, it isn’t a hashtag, it isn’t a trend that appears every January and disappears the moment it ends. And it’s certainly not confined to one day a year.
Allyship is ongoing work. It shows up in conversations you are willing to have when it’s uncomfortable.It lives in how you spend your money, which businesses you support, and which stories you choose to amplify.
And most importantly, allyship isn’t about being seen doing the right thing — it’s about doing the right thing even when no one is watching.
Allira Potter is a proud Yorta-Yorta creator, writer, speaker and model.
Lead image: Getty Images
The post What Genuine Allyship Looks Like On January 26 (Hint: It’s Not Performative Posting) appeared first on PEDESTRIAN.TV .