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Rev. Chris Jimmerson,
Toga Pendrake, Peggy Morton, and Leo Collas
July 19, 2026
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org
Join us as some great folks from our social action team discuss the effective allyship that is so vital to living out our values and mission.
Welcome
Prelude: “Für Alina” (Arvo Pärt) – Brent Baldwin, piano
Chalice Lighting
This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.
Call to Worship
If you want to be someone’s ally, but haven’t been hit by stones being thrown at them, you aren’t standing close enough yet.
– Ethan Keller,
a singer-songwriter from Milwaukee who writes Americana, blues, folk, funk, indie, jazz, R&B, soul, and rock.
Affirming Our Mission
Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.
Anthem
“The Revolution Starts Now” (Steve Earle) – Jordan Price, lead vocal & guitar; Efrain Davila, bass guitar; Brent Baldwin, drums
Monthly Service Offering
Each year, the members of First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin select a group of nonprofits that are building the beloved community in our area. Once a month, we take up a special offering that we give away to support these organizations and feature a representative who highlights the great work of one of them.
This month, the special offering was moved from the second to the third Sunday to coincide with the July for Justice Allyship service. If you are with us online, you can go to austinuu.org and click on the second Sunday special offering in the drop-down box. Here in the sanctuary, the ushers will gratefully accept the monthly special offering after a few words from Anna Huynh, whom we are thrilled to invite to let us know a little bit more about PFLAG.
Good morning. My name is Anna Nguyen. My pronouns are she/her. I’m a 60-something years old Vietnamese woman. I am the president of PFLAG Austin. It’s such an honor to be back again to share my thoughts with you what PFLAG Austin does and speak a tiny bit about allyship.
As you may know, PFLAG Austin is the Austin chapter of PFLAG, which is a national organization with a mission to create a trust and equitable society for LGBTQ plus people through advocacy, education and support. PFLAG Austin’s main mission are our support groups, of which we have seven at various locations at various times of the month. One of them is here, has been here probably seven, eight, nine, ten years now.
One of the bit of trivia that I’d like to share about our support group is that at every support group, we almost always have one, two, three first-timers, which is great because that means that people are finding our support group and that people are finding it beneficial.
Another bit of trivia, this month, our Cedar Park meeting, for the first time ever, we have way more first-timers than returners. So that was really good news.
Now, a little bit about allyship. I’m sure you’ve heard that ally, how ally is also a verb. That is something you do and not just be.
I would suggest that ally is also a language. That is something one says or doesn’t say. I’m a firm believer in not speaking about topics and issues in the abstract, but to share stories. which I think make the issues more relatable and more memorable, I think.
So I would like to share two stories that illustrate ally as a verb and as a language. My first, oh, a trigger warning. I will be speaking briefly about arrests and jail. If you have an issue with that, please, it will be awesome. Please feel free to excuse yourself. That will be completely okay.
My first arrest was during a civil disobedience action protesting the confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh to the U.S. Supreme Court. Fourteen of us, nine women, four men and one transgender woman, me, were arrested. We blocked ACL traffic on the Lamar Street Bridge. We just walk out there, sit down, block the traffic.
Eventually, APD came and cleared all the traffic of the bridge. And after two warnings to each of us to clear the bridge, they arrested all of us. and transported us to the Travis County Jail on 11th Street.
But that’s not what this story is about. What this story is about is what happened at the jail. I was housed with the women in the group. And they understood what being a transgender woman in jail could mean. I understood what being a transgender woman in jail could mean. We were processed as a group, one by one. And as I was being processed, later one of them shared with me that as I was being processed, they kept a close and watchful eye on me. That is ally as a verb.
Now, the story that I want to share regarding ally as a language is also from about eight years ago. I had seen a Thai TV commercial on hair shampoo featuring a Thai transgender woman. The commercial was very moving, and I shared it on Facebook, and my comment was, get a grip, Anna. It’s only a damn TV commercial. Can I say damn in church? I think here I can.
A friend, a very conservative guy, commented as follows. That’s not just some guy. His name was actually Guy.
Dear Anna,
I don’t know nor can I really ever understand the struggle you have coped with as a child growing into an adult. I simply don’t know what it’s like to be forced to deal with the notion that you are born a particular way and to live with an identity that is at complete odds with that physical reality, nor what it’s like to be told you must live in a prison day-in-and-day-out, appointed for you by culture and society. I can try to imagine it, but I can’t really know it.Here’s what I do know. You’ve been true to yourself in a way that is courageous. You’ve demonstrated a kind of courage I’m not sure I could or would be inclined to muster. And it’s okay to feel kind of emotional when you see your story articulated in the form of a video, a book, or a song. I think you already have a grip and therefore don’t need to get one. So here’s to you, my friend. I’m glad I know you for the person I know you to be.
Love guy.
That is the language of allies. In closing, I would like to express our deep gratitude and appreciation to be selected to be the recipient of this month service offering. We had been fortunate enough to receive, to share in the offerings last year and we are grateful. These contributions help us to further our mission, hopefully to continue to get first-timers at all of our support groups.
Thank you.
Reading
THE ALLIES
– unknown authorI cannot know your experience of life. I can only know my own.
I know I want for you the wholeness of life and full potential that I desire. I can be with you. I can answer your call for what would feel like support. I can weather the storms with you, demand more for you, be willing to pick up your fight if you might need to rest for a moment.
Let my heart’s sensibility and emotion be affected by your well-being, consider your advancement a part of my own. And it is true also that you cannot know my experience, but if you wish for it to move me toward my fullest potential and would be with me in that struggle.
I welcome you into my experience as a vital part of it. For though our destinies are each our own, they are also intertwined, for together we can become so much more than we might alone.
Centering
Music for Meditation: “Come On Up to the House” (Tom Waits) – Jordan Price, vocal & piano; Efrain Davila, bass guitar; Brent Baldwin, drums
Sermon
JULY FOR JUSTICE – ALLYSHIP
Rev. Chris Jimmerson, Toga Pendrake, Peggy Morton, and Leo Collas
NOTE: This is a AI generated (edited) transcript.
Please forgive any omissions or errors.
Chris Jimmerson
As you have heard earlier, this is July for Justice Month at First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin where we are exploring allyship. We’re sponsoring a film festival featuring movies that help illustrate what it means to be an effective ally. And for this morning’s service, we wanted to dive more directly into the subject also.
I want to thank Anna for sharing such moving stories earlier that so beautifully demonstrate the real power, loving, heartfelt allyship can have. In a moment, three of our first UU social justice leaders, Toga, Peggy, and Leo will share with us their thoughts and experiences concerning allyship.
To get us started, I’d like to offer a potential way of framing what it means to be a true ally, knowing that these three leaders will, without a doubt, add depth and nuance through their own personal experiences and their work for justice. Here is that potential framework.
To be an ally is to be in solidarity with the actual folks with whom you claim to be their ally. It requires being in relationship. It requires commitment. It requires being willing to put one’s own privilege at risk. It requires action. An ally works for people, not just broad principles. If we’re not in relationship with the people for whom the principle applies, we are not truly their ally.
To uphold the principle of racial justice, for example, we must be in relationship with people actually harmed by racism. The same is true for all of the other isms. If we are not in solidarity, we are not practicing true allyship.
Solidarity is the language of fierce love. Allyship is that language of love in action. I want to invite Toga now to come forward to continue our exploration.
Toga Pendrick
Howdy, howdy. My name is Toga Pendrick. I use he, him pronouns. I have blue-green hair, periwinkle, long-sleeved shirt, which I’ve rolled up the sleeves of today, blue jeans, and some converse that usually match my hair color.
I did want to start by saying I have burns, most notably on my left arm, you know, the left side of my face, and this is why I rolled up my sleeves today. This happened in 2020, the same year that my story takes place.
I am a construction electrician, and I was pushing for the IBEW of Austin to sign up with the National Mobilization for Reproductive Justice. I had reached out to our women’s committee, inviting them to make the motion, seeing that it was thematically most relevant to them. And they asked me to make the motion instead because they didn’t want to be marked as troublemakers, stirring the pot, drawing attention or bringing issues that don’t relate to labor specifically into the union meetings. But I am a firm believer that all health care affects all workers and we need to address them. as a union, as an organization, and on the individual level as well.
So I prepped the documents. They went over them with me, and it was a two-page document outlining why, again, the union of electricians should be allied with the National Mobilization for Reproductive Justice. I went up and I made the motion with their support.
I was scanning the crowds to see who was trying to say something, who was trying to pop their head up, who wanted to speak against. And only one member decided to leave the room that day, and we had several other construction workers that stood up. and spoke in support of how reproductive justice affects everyone, how they saw that we should have the IBEW signing up for and supporting this organization, and how we should be more involved and more considerate of the people who can and would give birth in our union. I was very proud of the support, and the Women’s Committee was very shocked by how, firstly, no one spoke against it, and second, how many men got up and spoke for it. I was very proud to use my position.
Having been in that accident that same year, I had a lot of attention. I had a lot of support. I had a lot of conversations with the leaders of our local, and they knew that if I was taking this issue seriously, that the people who had my back were going to also be taking this issue seriously.
I wanted to say that allyship is as… Chris had said earlier, being in the front lines with these people, if they’re going to get hit with stones, it is being in the space where that can also hit you. And then me trying to leverage my position, my level of fame and my level of support to help the people that I cared about very much.
I wanted to wrap up by saying that if men really sat down and they thought about the ceaseless labor that is pregnancy. You cannot take a break. You cannot put the weight down. You cannot stop being pregnant because it would be really convenient to help you in any particular moment and then resume.
But I think if men really sat with the idea, I think we would be compelled to show support through action, not just through words. Thank you.
Peggy Morton
Hello, everyone. I’m Peggy Morton. I use she, her pronouns.
So I appreciate being invited to talk with you today about being an ally with our beloved immigrant neighbors. At a basic level, being an ally is there for other people. A simple nod and a smile can go a long way.
And to learn more about being an ally with immigrants, I invite you to attend an Austin Sanctuary Network training or educational event where we offer conversations to help you find out what may work best for you while centering immigrant voices.
It’s not everyone who will be able to do what the dear woman with citizenship did on June 29th when she was waiting to pick up a friend from a Travis County-owned community care clinic. She saw someone who she did not know walk out of her appointment and get painfully shoved and grabbed by ICE agents. Asalia had been there to get blood drawn to check her thyroid levels and blood glucose because she was sick. A doctor’s office should be a place where you feel safe and secure and not have to fear harm.
Fortunately, that bystander got out of her car, started recording the encounter, and walking toward them slowly. Getting closer, she respectfully asked Asalia if she wanted to share a phone number so that she could reach out to her family members. When Asalia started sharing her number, the ICE agents shoved her into the car, slamming the door in her face before she could even finish giving that telephone number. With that recording, the bystander had enough information to find Asalia’s loved ones, which is why we know about her story.
She was quickly taken to the for-profit Pearsall Detention Center where she was not allowed to call her attorney who should retain before this incident happened. She was deported within one week to a town in Mexico where she knew no one and it was far from where she was from. This is an example of no due process nor humanity.
While taking videos of detained people may not be for everyone, I invite you to visit with me in Howson Hall later today where I can tell you a little bit more about possibly attending and Know Your Rights for Allies training or to get involved in our detention visitation program, maybe even just learning to write letters to people who are detained. We, as UUs, like to center love, and that love is becoming a good ally and loving our neighbors.
Leo Collas
Good morning. My name is Leo Collas. I’m a white guy of a certain age wearing glasses and a blue jacket.
Excuse me, ma’am. Whoever thought that those words could evoke a feeling of joy to the point of exuberance for someone? As some of you know, I moderate the LGBTQ and allies community heart circle, and I’ve learned so many profound things from doing that over the years. One is how little it takes to make somebody’s day. How small gestures can have a profound impact.
I’ve learned it’s just so easy for each of us to make a difference. Allyship is more than passive acceptance. It’s being an active presence when it matters. And it always matters.
Taking the time to come to an LGBTQ community heart circle, which is this afternoon at 2 o’clock, by the way, or to a PFLAG meeting, as many of you have done, has a profound impact. I know because I feel it. Showing up at the Capitol when laws are contemplated that are hurtful to immigrants, to trans folks, to women, to the environment. That makes a huge difference.
I myself have wondered out loud how just being there could be helpful. One of the affected people once told me, this is at the Capitol, that seeing our goldenrod t-shirts, I’m not wearing mine today, but probably somebody here is, our goldenrod t-shirts was a comfort and a relief. Just knowing who has their backs can make a difference to those who see their rights being threatened.
Institutional allyship, and First UU, this place, does an exemplary job of that, is about making space and giving a platform like this to marginalized voices. Those of us here in this community who are decent human beings are capable and fully equipped with feelings and compassion to show up at the Capitol, at an immigration hearing, at a PFLAG meeting, or at a reproductive rights event with a healing love that will shine through.
It makes an enormous difference to us marginalized folks when support comes from outside of our marginalized groups.
You’re probably wondering if I’ll ever finish my story about, excuse me ma’am, but… This is it. During a check-in at the Community Heart Circle that I just spoke about one day, a quiet and timid trans woman, one who was not long into her transition, told us that while maneuvering her way into the meeting room, she turned a corner and nearly collided with somebody. And the person smiled and said, excuse me, ma’am. That simple acknowledgement shaped the rest of her day it just put her on cloud nine she said they call me ma’am and and she was just beaming.
Yeah, you never know who you’re going to run into here and you never know what effect you’ll have on somebody. My own personal story back at the the height of the aids epidemic when it seemed like everyone was afraid of gay people, the government wasn’t acting and religious institutions were actually vilifying those who were suffering and dying, Not this religious institution, but, you know, the big ones that suck all the life out of the room, you know.
Most of my friends from that period became sick, and most of my friends died, as did my first partner, Wayne.
And as painful as that time was, it’s punctuated with memories of people who were much more than just allies. They were heroes. The doctors and the nurses and the caregivers, they risked their own livelihoods to help those in need. It’s hard to imagine, but people lost their jobs because they were doing good work. They were targeted, but still they stepped up even when they weren’t sure what to do. They cried with us and they held our hands. The takeaway about allyship is that it’s all about just showing up and letting your heart lead you. It’s fine not to know what to do. Just show up.
I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t think anybody knows what’s going to happen next. But you will make whatever comes better when you just show up. Thank you.
Chris Jimmerson
Wow. I want to thank Toga, Peggy, and Leo, as well as Anna, again, for such powerful stories and reflections. and such a true call to action for all of us. I’m also struck that in this time of a government that is trying to erase this country’s history of racism, obscure the contributions and history of BIPOC folks, eliminate efforts to achieve justice such as diversity, equity, and inclusion program, suppress the vote of BIPOC folks, the blatant racism behind the criminal actions of immigration enforcement that we’re seeing, on and on and on, given this all-out assault on people of color we’re witnessing, this call to allyship has never been more vital than it is right now for those of us who identify as white.
And I think our speakers have raised up some extraordinarily useful and dynamic ways of thinking about that allyship.
First, as we’ve heard, it’s intersectional. Many of us will both have the need for solidarity at times and will also be called upon to be an ally to others.
Second, A true ally, as we’ve heard, is willing to leverage our own privilege when others might be endangered, even when that may mean putting ourselves at risk.
Third, allyship is a verb. It requires action. And I love, as Anna said, it is also a language.
And fourth, the language of allyship is love. So much of it, as Leo said, is just about showing up, accepting and upholding the experiences of other folks, even if we haven’t shared such experiences ourselves and thus don’t completely understand them.
And finally, we do the work of educating ourselves. We de-center ourselves. We risk making mistakes and make amends if we do.
There is likely so much more than these that stood out to me, I’m sure. I hope we will all continue this discussion. Please visit the film series if you can. Go by the social action table after the service today and visit with Peggy and others. And please join me one more time in thanking all of our speakers today for their powerful call to the sacred work of allyship.
Extinguishing the Chalice
We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.
Benediction
For our benediction, I leave you with these words from Bell Hooks.
Solidarity is not the same as support. To experience solidarity, we must have a community of interests, shared beliefs and goals around which to unite. Support can be occasional. It can be given and just as easily withdrawn. Solidarity requires sustained ongoing commitment.
May the congregation say amen and blessed be.
I love you fiercely. Go in peace.
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