# data[].attributes.body
Alice is the kind of elder we need in all kinds of communities: ready to do everything in her power to make room for future generations to speak and create. I aspire to center youth and welcome new members of the disabled community in Alice's honor. May she rest in peace.

# data[].attributes.body
Hi, my name is Maureen Hickey and I didn’t make it to Alice’s celebration of life but after reading about it, this song came through to me in honor of Alice. She helped me change the way I think about myself and others and how I want to show up in the world as a person with a disability.

# data[].attributes.body
when I was first finding my voice in my intersectional disability identity, Alice was one of the people who was very supportive and inclusive. I am who I am as a writer, activist and disabled person (#DisabledAF) because of people like Alice

# data[].attributes.headline
A poem of gratitude for crip family to all who are grieving  

# data[].attributes.subject
A poem of gratitude for crip family to all who are grieving  

# data[].attributes.body
May I be excused?

When crips become family, how do I explain it to an attendance policy?

All my beloveds are lovers, cousins, siblings, and blood family.

Our blood is ever flowing through each other for decades, eons, universes.

No you may not take me away from the precious time I forcefully carve out of the ever flowing lava of the world.

Beyond friendship, beyond community, becoming survival needs to each other.

How do I put into words the way I'm held and how we hold each other?

How do I put into words what it feels like to move from stranger to lifeline?

How do I put into abled allistic words what power our ancestors give us to become intertwined together?

Unfortunately for you, your email finds me on crip time.

"Unfortunately I have prior commitments"

Unfortunately my absence is inexcusable

Unfortunately I will be punished for being given holy community

My sanctuary is squeezing hands, kitchens, sobbing, phone tag, plant cuttings, spices, calendars, screams, exchanging tupperware, a green light on a plastic box of fate.

May I? Can I? Am I allowed?

# data[].attributes.body
Thank you for your amazing leadership, your conviction even at the most challenging of times, and your compassion. I will always cherish the talks we had about organizing for justice for Palestine at a time when I felt so alone in the disability advocacy space. You were such a bright, loving presence in this world and in our spaces, and that brightness will continue through the legacy and memories that you've created.

# data[].attributes.body
For all the lessons and joy. I will always carry them forward, I promise.

# data[].attributes.attachment_caption
[Image Description 1: a black felt tip pen drawing on a white background of Alice wearing a full custom look by Rebirth Garments. A 3/4 view of her  sitting in her power wheelchair with her arms crossed in front looking as powerful as she is. she has a mask over her nose with a vent tube that is curled in front of her. She is wearing dazzle camo color-blocked leggings with the seams on the outside and a patterned an color-blocked hooded cape with the hood down. She has asymmetrical triangle makeup lining under one of the mask straps.  Image Description 2: a black felt tip pen drawing on a white background of Alice and Sky wearing full custom looks by Rebirth Garments. A close up view of Alice sitting in her power wheelchair and Sky kneeling to the side of her. Alice has a mask over her nose with a vent tube that she is curling around Sky’s neck in a sexy way.  Alice is wearing dazzle camo color-blocked leggings with the seams on the outside and a patterned and color-blocked hooded cape with the hood down and a knitted beanie that says “Crip” (in a Rebirth collab with Lapras Tingle Solaire). She has asymmetrical triangle makeup lining under one of the mask straps.  Sky is wearing a cropped vinyl vest with a Queercrip patch on the back and a scalemaille handpiece. They have a shaved head with a geometric tattoo that echoes their spikey triangle asymmetrical under eye eyeliner, and a tattoo of the Rebirth Symbol on their arm. end image descriptions.]

# data[].attributes.headline
Alice in Radical Visibility Coloring Book by Rebirth Garments

# data[].attributes.subject
Alice in Radical Visibility Coloring Book by Rebirth Garments

# data[].attributes.body
I have free downloads of 2 coloring book pages that I, Sky Cubacub, made of Alice Wong in 2018, that was included in my 2019 coloring book zine at https://rebirthgarments.com/zine-store . The reference photo I used is from a photoshoot Grace DuVal did of us in fall 2016 in Alice’s backyard. Free to use this image or a colored in version of it for your grieving practice, at celebrations of life for Alice or anything in memory of Alice. Connect with me at @rebirthgarments on instagram, Bluesky and Upscrolled or through my website contact form!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Radical Visibility Coloring book page Alice Wong

# data[].attributes.headline
Thank you Alice for inspiring me to be a Disability Justice Trailblazer

# data[].attributes.subject
Thank you Alice for inspiring me to be a Disability Justice Trailblazer

# data[].attributes.body
Alice has been an inspiration to be in the disability justice world. In March 2018, I was so honored to be interviewed by her for her podcast to discuss Asian American mental health (https://disabilityvisibilityproject.com/2018/03/11/ep-20-asian-american-women-and-mental-health/). As a Rainbow Grief Artist & mental health advocate for over a decade, I think Alice would be so proud of me for serving as the 1st Asian board member for the National Coalition for Mental Health Recovery (NCMHR) because representation matters!! Here is my protest art that I brought to DC last June 2025. In this art piece, I balance my cynicism with rainbows. Also, since both Alice & I are both cat lovers, here is an art piece that I made that says, "Be the one who helps others feel that there is still LOVE & LIGHT in this world." I plan on doing this as a chalk mural for the Pasadena Chalk Festival during Father's Day weekend in June 2026.

# data[].attributes.body
I didn't know you but I admire your advocacy. Thank you so much for your essay "You Are Not Entitled To Our Deaths: COVID, Abled Supremacy & Interdependence", your mask advocacy, and vaccine advocacy, and advocacy against all forced treatment, and willingness to see complexity and combine all of these.

Thank you so much for being a force against ableism.

# data[].attributes.headline
Wisdom from Elizabeth Grigsby in the Virtual Gathering

# data[].attributes.subject
Wisdom from Elizabeth Grigsby in the Virtual Gathering

# data[].attributes.body
“The system doesn’t work for Disabled people. The system is disabled. […] We shouldn’t have to change the system, the system should be the one to change. They need to spin around us, we shouldn’t have to spin around the system. We didn’t ask to be disabled, none of us did, but since we are, we have every fucking right to live our life to the fullest. And we shouldn’t have to jump through hoops or … to get what we need to have a good quality of life! And that’s one thing that Alice has pounded in me- to never give up the fight! So I’m glad to meet all you guys, cause we can continue Alice’s work. We can carry on for the next generation, and the generation after that. I’m happy to say ‘fuck the system’, I want to shake it up, and I want to hold people accountable for their bullcrap.” - @Elizabeth Grigsby (transcribed imperfectly by Sarah M and Kathryn M)

# data[].attributes.body
Bent over

Paper towels line the sink

Listening to the Celebration of Life for

Alice Wong

Finally trying the famous

Wolf cut

Six years in

Cause I need to do something

With my hands

Cause the pandemic isn’t over

Not even close

You think

Thank god I knew Alice’s

Twitter handle back in the day

Thank god I knew her humour, the

Magic and joy and rage of

Disability Community long before

Long Covid got me

Otherwise I might be even more

Fixed on what I’m losing, we’ve lost

And less focussed on what I

We still have

Are building

Poetry, beloveds, laughter, chicken curry nights

(The best way to use up old apples)

Scheming, dreaming, bitching

Weekends at the chalet with friends

And yappy dogs

Thank you Alice <3

# data[].attributes.body
Sharing the masking art collage shared in the reception!❤️‍🔥

We will hold the system and people responsible accountable. We will fight for our right to life. We will fight for our dignity.

Hasta siempre, Alice Wong presente❤️‍🔥

# data[].attributes.body
Alice, I don't know where to really start. I was devastated when I heard you died last year. We didn't know each other that well but even the few emails we shared were impactful. You perfectly embodied Crip Time to me, with power and grace, even with your email signatures and auto-replies stating your boundaries and limited capacity. I loved seeing it because it's another way you carved out space for life and for rest for yourself. It's true you made space for yourself, but not just you, you made space for the rest of us too. Your impact is immense. Your support for Palestine will be memorialized forever. Crips for eSims for Gaza is such a powerful initiative and we'll keep it going until Palestine is free. You inspire me every day to keep fighting, to keep loving, to keep enjoying life but never be satisfied with the scraps. You make me feel like it's okay to be scared, but we still need to move towards justice. Do it scared. You were a fucking real one, Alice, you really were. I wish more of us embodied your fighting spirit and I hope your death rekindles the fire for others as it did for me. From one cyborg to another, thank you. As someone in your beautiful reception said, I'm a fiercer advocate because of you. Your memory is such a blessing and we're all so glad we got to spend so much time with you. I just greedily wish it had been more. I feel like I'm rambling but it's something you would have vibed with. We love you, thank you for everything. I promise I won't let them forget about how vital divestment is for the disability community to actually push for liberation for all. We can't be complacent. We need to push harder for access for all, for freedom for all of us. We're so close. Don't let the bastards grind you down. I love you, thank you.

# data[].attributes.body
Thank you Alice for being a loving disabled oracle, auntie, and 家姐 for all of us.

# data[].attributes.wish_content.attachment_props.alternative_text
Alice, Robin, and Xavier , taking a selfie.

# data[].attributes.body
I don't have a picture of it, but I shouted out Alice on the back! The free virtual version is at citrinecraft.neocities.com. I also would love to connect with any of you, you can email me or reach out via instagram @citrinecraft :-)

# data[].attributes.wish_content.attachment_props.alternative_text
a cover of a zine that reads: mobility aids 101, a beginner's guide. virtual version with image descriptions. citrinecraft.neocities.com 

# data[].attributes.headline
Message from Lygia Navarro in memory of Alice

# data[].attributes.subject
Message from Lygia Navarro in memory of Alice

# data[].attributes.body
I wanted to say how heart-filling it is to be able to be in community with so many other disabled folks loving Alice today (especially as I’m in my 6th year of being full-time at home, aka homebound, thanks to long COVID and ME/CFS). I’m a journalist and love online connections with other disabled folks and members of the COVID-cautious community, find me at @LygiaNavarro on IG (or LinkedIn or BlueSky). Love and rage!

# data[].attributes.headline
Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations

# data[].attributes.subject
Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations

# data[].attributes.body
Thank you everyone for celebrating this portal personified, this auntie and ancestor. Our beloved vanguard.

# data[].attributes.body
Dear Alice,

I do not know you but my friend grieves for you and so do I.

Rest in power.

# data[].attributes.headline
You were the first person I saw using BIPAP/mechanical ventilation outside the home, and opened up a world for me where I could leave the home, continue my education, and go to graduate school. I'm building a future I couldn't see until I saw you. Your memory is a blessing, Alice, for countless people, and your work built worlds that we couldn't have dreamed possible without you. 

# data[].attributes.subject
You were the first person I saw using BIPAP/mechanical ventilation outside the home, and opened up a world for me where I could leave the home, continue my education, and go to graduate school. I'm building a future I couldn't see until I saw you. Your memory is a blessing, Alice, for countless people, and your work built worlds that we couldn't have dreamed possible without you. 

# data[].attributes.headline
Thank you for being a beacon of hope, as well as #AliceIsLove

# data[].attributes.subject
Thank you for being a beacon of hope, as well as #AliceIsLove

# data[].attributes.body
In my grief I often turn to "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

#AliceIsLove

# data[].attributes.body
I was fortunate enough to work with her a little bit and she gave me one of my favourite ever notes, that shows how exacting she was, she knew what she wanted. I was illustrating some cats for her and she casually asked if I could make the expressions on one of the cats "more like the Mona Lisa". One of the most inscrutable expressions in the history of western art, just do that on a cat. But she knew what she wanted, and was an absolute joy to work with, the work I did for her changed my life, and her teachings and joy continue to shape me daily.

# data[].attributes.attachment_caption
ID: An altar set up on top of a dark wooden dresser for Alice. The dresser is draped with white embroidered piece of fabric. On top of the altar, Year of The Tiger and Disability Visibility are stacked beneath a pair of beeswax taper candles. There are stickers, patches, tarot cards, art, and a piece of cake gently placed on the altar. On the wall, a piece of paper is hung that reads "Where is your disabled rage?"

# data[].attributes.body
Alice, I've put together this altar with stickers, pins, patches, art, candles and a piece of orange cake with care, honor, gratitude & reverence for you. We are so lucky to have you as a disabled oracle.

# data[].attributes.body
Alice was a frequent guest on the Contra* podcast. This tribute episode focuses on our friendship and the wisdom she shared during these conversations, including her thoughts about disabled people as hackers and designers.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
December 1, 2025

Aimi Hamraie: This is Aimi Hamraie. I'm back with a special episode of Contra*, a tribute to a dear friend and comrade, Alice Wong.

Alice was a disabled oracle, an activist, community builder, archivist, fierce lover of animals and snacks, a companion to cats and snails, one of the funniest people I ever met, and one of the best at setting boundaries. She was involved in many of our projects in the Critical Design Lab, including being on several episodes of the Contra* podcast. She was also involved with our Remote Access Archive and party, the #CripRitual project and exhibition, Labs for Liberation, and, most notably, the Society of Disabled Oracles project, which she founded and which Jen White-Johnson and I worked with Alice to co-create. Alice and I first met in person years before the pandemic, but our relationship deepened since 2020. We collaborated on projects, hung out socially in virtual spaces, and sent snail mail, including a lot of stickers, gifts, and small snacks. Our ways of communicating changed as both of our bodyminds changed, and you may detect some of that in this episode.

I am deep in grief. It's been a hard week since Alice transitioned to becoming an ancestor. I have been writing to her and about her a lot. Given the immense archive of letters, recordings, and other things from Alice, I don't actually believe she is gone. Perhaps just hanging out in another realm, watching or waiting to haunt us like a benevolent ghost. (Unless you were ever a representative of an evil ableist organization, in which case, the haunting may not be so benevolent). Alice and I were supposed to have a Zoom call the weekend that she passed, and as I sat down to write this introduction, my phone lit up with the event reminder in my calendar. A message from beyond. I look at Alice's post cards, the one that says, "The world is so bleak and filled with grief, isn't it? For me, it's been healing to be around nature and cats, fish and plants. I went to the Oakland Museum, where there was an exhibit by disabled artists, and I was reminded of the power and beauty of creativity. And that's something, isn't it?"

There is a card on my fridge, with a drawing by Alice. The text says, "sloth time is crip time," and there are stickers of sloths: snacking, snoozing, and bathing. In the corner is a clock, it's arms pointing to the words, "Later," and "Nap." This is Crip time.

Many people have documented Alice's significant contributions to our movements, especially through the Disability Visibility Project, #CriptheVote, her memorials to Stacey Park Milbern, her immense Palestine activism, and her advocacy for disabled people to access ventilators and vaccines during the earlier years of the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. In this episode of Contra*, I want to do something a little different as a tribute to my friend. I want to share some of my memories of Alice, and also some of her insight and humor from previous Contra* episodes.

Alice was gracious about accepting my invitations to be on Contra*. In our conversations, we were trying to articulate early arguments for crip technoscience, such as why non-disabled technologists and designers were so troubling, and what difference being a disabled designer makes.

Here's Alice talking about the genesis of the Disability Visibility Project back in 2018, on episode 4 of Contra*, an episode where we talked about crip hacking and tinkering, and Alice's critiques of bringing in disabled users for design hack-a-thons:

Alice Wong: It was a year before the 25th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act. And you know at that time, I realized, I noticed there were a lot of organizations, and just different disability communities planning to celebrating this huge landmark anniversary. And I was like, you know, I'm just one individual, and I thought, "Well, what could I do as a disabled person to contribute to this?"

And I didn't have an idea, and I'm a constant listener of Storycorps, which has these short audio stories every Friday on NPR's morning edition. And I realized that there was a Storycorps location in San Francisco at the time. And I attended one of their events. And they had like you know, former storytellers on stage and talk about the power of storytelling. And they mentioned that they have community partnerships, that are vocal partnerships. And then I just went up to them afterwards I said, "Hey do you realize like there's a huge disability community in the bay area? Have you worked with our community organizations yet?"

They're like, "No, not really." So the light bulb went off and I thought, "Well, maybe I could just you know, form a partnership with them." And initially it was just gonna a one-year campaign to encourage people with disabilities to tell their stories and to have it archived as part of Storycorps. You know, part of the impetus was to not only to help celebrate and have like a 25th anniversary, as ADA but I definitely brought it to think about how there's not enough disability history out there. And how it really is so important for us to tell our stories in our own words.

And I think the idea with Storycorps that was such a great partnership is that, you know, people feel really empowered. You know, it's very loose, it's very intimate. There are no rules on like telling your story. And the brilliant part that really encouraged me to do this is that, having participate after their oral history, it has the option of archiving it at the Library of Congress. So to me that's just like, wow you know, I thought if I could get 25, 50, oral histories in a year, that's something that's gonna be there forever. And I think it's so important to capture like a zeitgeist because we don't think about the history of our community right now.

Like you and me talking right now, this is disabilities history, this is disability culture. And we often don't see it that way it's not like, you know, years later. So I thought, What's an idea? I really didn't see enough disability history or media produced by us in a really robust way. So I thought, "Well what should I call it?" I thought, "Oh disability visability is a mouthfull but it rhymes." And I thought, "Oh yeah let's just do that."

Aimi: One thing I loved about Alice was that she was always leaving traces of disability culture for future people (maybe activists or historians) to notice. She was aware that we were part of history in the making, and marked this whenever possible. She was also frequently using the language of partnership, to establish the power dynamics of a collaboration. On the Society for Disabled Oracles project, for example, she explained to Jen and myself that we were "co-partners," and sought to nurture collaborations with and through us with our other collaborators, as part of the broader web of disability culture. She used any resources she had, whether money or time or love, to nurture the many tendrils of our networks. As she writes in her memoir, Year of the Tiger, "The real gift any person can give is a web of connective tissue. If we love fiercely, our ancestors live among and speak to us through these incandescent filaments glowing from the warmth of memories."

Here's Alice discussing how she benefitted from the wisdom of disabled women elders and mentors, from the same episode.

Alice: I think I owe a lot to the generations disabled women who've really just been, shared so much of theirselves and their lives with me. That it just made feel so welcome when I first moved out here to the bay area about 20 years ago. You know, they were the ones that were really that I [inaudible 00:27:41] of. Like this is, you know, part of us and I'm just like, "Wow," you know? Yet, Corbett I think in particular of us, somebody who just had this like kind of no-nonsense bad-ass style.

That really a way and I guess I was just a baby Crip you know? Get the diapers, just you know starry-eyed, and just trying to find community really. And she was one of the ones that like, "Oh yeah, you want to do this? Let's do this." You know, she's made everything seem possible. And that just you know, I will always feel like that's kind of she gave so much to so many. And it really made me think about like my own kind of responsibilities. And you know, that paying it forward as well.

So I do want to acknowledge the elders in our society that just inhabit so much wisdom that I feel like, you know, so much of that wisdom is just unless they write a book, or unless they tell their stories, it's like such anxiety that's like we're gonna lose this history. And that we need to tell our stories, because I think that sometimes the other thing about storytelling is that we don't realize what we've achieved, right? Sometimes we do things, you know, informally to our lives to make our lives better but just the little hacks and adaptations.

We don't think of it that way, we just think of it as just living our lives. And always, you know, later on upon reflection or upon somebody else's observations. Wow then we realize, "Oh my gosh. Like, I guess that wasn't safe," right? And I think we need to keep saying that these are things. And I think that's, you know, hopefully one of the reasons why you know the Disability Visibility Project exists. This is it, these are things that we should immensely proud about and just you know, embrace.

And just think about this is just the few examples that are our stories. And just perhaps you're like all of your other stories that we just don't know about yet. And that to me is incredibly exciting, the fact that this is just a small sampling that you know, I'm able to have access to in terms of being able to tell their stories. But this is really just an entry into this larger universe, this Crip universe. This Crip Technoscience universe that we're all participates in. And that to me just keeps me going.

Aimi: One of the ways that Alice and I connected was through design criticism. She had, for many years, been a critic of how designers pretend to include disabled people, while also excluding disabled wisdom from design processes. One of the many areas where Alice and others had to exert extra energy to advocate on behalf of different design solutions was the straw bans, which had taken shape in 2018 across the U.S. and many other places. It was something that non-disabled people found of minimal importance, but Alice was not willing to back down. This is from Contra* episode 5, also in 2018.

Alice: People that I see on Twitter who are disabled this past summer, they're being honest about plastic straws, and usage of products. Non-disabled people were just attacking them right and left! Just questioning their existence! I saw people say shit like "Don't worry about the plastic ban, because you can just bring your own," or that people are gonna be okay, people will make exceptions. If disabled people don't... it is already so hard to just exist in public spaces without any kind of intimidation or skepticism or microagressions -- the sense that we're always "faking it" or trying to get... that we're scammers, we're just trying to get some kind of special privileges, which is really accommodations... the sense that we're always gonna be still under surveillance, and we're always gonna be at the mercy of people who feel entitled to question what we need.

I think that's the thing that really alarmed me about these straw bans, is the cultural message that's coming out, is that your bodymind, your way of functioning is not socially appropriate. It's not socially... environmentally responsible, therefore you must acquiesce and perform to what this... this new way of being because the greater good of saving the planet is more important than the way you survive. And that, to me, I think is the most disturbing, it's very much of a threat on our way of life, and on our right to be in public.

It's not an exaggeration, in my mind, to think about the parallels of straw... bans like this, like straw bans, and things like the Ugly laws, because it's really about disciplining certain behaviors and certain activities in public. It's really not an exaggeration to think about the way we live is... in a way repulsive, is not attractive, is not "healthy." Our needs are asking for too much, that it would be unreasonable, that it would be wasteful. Those are all the kind of moral or value things that are all placed on plastic, and plastic wasn't seen that way in the past. And I understand the need to reduce consumption, but I find it just... it's such an easy thing to place this responsibility on the individual versus the larger forces at play that really are the ones that really drive plastic pollution. That's a lot more difficult for governments and corporations to tackle. They don't want to think about voluntary systemic changes versus changing individual behavior.

Aimi: In addition to moral and political arguments, Alice was concerned with how people with power, such as city officials or corporations, did or did not respond to community feedback. This is a bit of a glimpse into Alice's activism on the ground.

Alice: I think the idea at least if tinkering the ideas, I think the amendments in terms of getting involved with political participation and making sure that we tinker with their draft amendments, I think that's definitely what I would do as well. I've observed, and I've also participated in... we had this motto of "nothing about us without us," and these straw bans are a great example of the opposite of that. These things were done totally without us, yet they were about us, and you see how not only governments but also other corporation or entities are playing catch-up, right? They're like, "oh, okay, we see all these crips are really upset, what do we do? Okay, we'll just have these community forums, we'll get their feedback, and we're gonna do a do-over."

So in San Francisco, there was an ordinance passed very recently this year that thanks a lot of people on a local level that said "hey, hold on, hold up, this is not cool, you're... the language of your ordinance is incredibly vague. Are there exceptions?" So they're like, okay. So they held two community stakeholder meetings and they also shared, after those meetings, a draft amendment, and we were also able to give feedback, so I think that, in a sense, was where the tinkering took place.

Aimi: Like her criticism of maker and hacker events, which she had been developing since 2014, Alice noticed that disabled people who gave feedback in political processes weren't credited or paid, which was a huge injustice:

Alice: In the end, our names are never gonna be associated with that process. Just like the straw ban, that's... it's the straw ban, none of our names of the people of the people that actually helped improved the amendments will ever be credited with it, because it's really about the politicians who sponsor those bills, that put those bills into action. Again, this is where, time and time again, marginalized communities are the ones with the vision and the foresight to say, "hey, this is not cool," and they're the ones with the burden of educating people. This happens time and ...opportunity, and I think that's another layer of ideas about our experience is not the same as expertise, or that our expertise is just not seen within a professional context.

And I think that's what's really... I can't just... We need your help, but we're not going to pay you or we're not going to credit you in the end, and yet so many of us do this because, if we don't, the end result is... we have to do something, right? And sometimes there's a real tension or market, like a trade-offs. Like I don't want there to be here talking about plastic straws. I did not want to do this at all this summer, and yet here I am doing this, and I do this because I felt we had to do this, because otherwise we're gonna let non-disabled people have total control over it, and that's worse, to me, the fact that, if we just receive any sort of ownership of it, I think that that's part of the inherent power dynamics, is that though we are assisting on a role with this, in a way that our contributions may not be recognized, but in the end, this is for us. This is for our future. This will have an impact, whether we get credited or not. And I think that's what people do when they have love with their communities, have love for their people, right?

Aimi: And that brings us to some of the ideas that later formed Alice's concept of the disabled oracle, a figure who predicts the future, however dire, and survives through hope and solidarity:

Alice: And I think, you know, again, just like... the no matter what type of dystopian future or present we're living in. One thing that's always gonna be constant throughout is that we're always gonna be tinkering, no matter what happens, no matter how shitty things get. Within the most oppressive climates, one thing that's so beautiful and so... I guess I don't want to say miraculous but so [inaudible 00:40:59] that we are always gonna be on the edges, we are always gonna be the ones who really see things way before other people see things, because we live on the intersections and we live on the margins, and I think those who are on the outside, on the edges, are always the ones who see things in the future and the consequences that most people in the center have no ideas about. So that's ... no matter how pessimistic, sometimes, I am, or skeptical about the future, I think it gives me hope that I know that within the most dire of circumstances, disabled people are always finding ways to survive and thrive. Not just survive but thrive as well. So, yeah, that gives me hope.

Aimi: Yeah. And I'll just shout out the Disability Visibility Project's anthology, "Resistance and Hope," which is amazing and exists in an audio format on the website as well.

Alice: For that, yeah, I think that's the twin ideas of resistance and activism, but also this idea that, no matter how bleak things seem, the reason why we keep doing things, is because we do this in the hope of a better future, and we do this out of love. And I think that's what really carries us forward as a people, that we do these things for the love of one another. And that's really powerful.

Aimi: Not long after recording these episodes, Alice invited me to join her for a presentation to a corporate accessibility office. We were being asked to do "disability 101," but we chose to talk about disability culture-and disabled peoples' expertise-instead. There was a big audience. A year later, the same corporation tried to roll back the ADA through the courts. We did a lot of laugh-crying about it all, not surprised, but a bit like, what are we going to do? What are going to keep doing? This is all so bleak.

For the 2019 special issue of the journal Catalyst: feminism theory technoscience, I asked Alice to write a creative essay about the straw bans. It was one of my favorite things she ever wrote. The title is "The Rise and Fall of the Plastic Straw: sucking in crip defiance." It begins with a story. Here's Alice reading it:

Alice: [Scene. Exterior. Campfire in a moonless night. A wizened Asian American wheelchair user wrapped in a shawl tells a story to children gathered by the flickering light.]
"There was a day when plastic straws, plastic bendy straws, straws by the pack and individually wrapped, roamed the earth. Some used it for boba, others for their iced coffee. Access was everywhere....and then there were The Bans. The Bans said plastic was bad. The Bans made plastic straws disappear. The Bans wanted to create a gateway to zero waste (Ives, 2017). The Bans intended to remove single-use disposables from this planet. The Bans came in cities big and small, from Seattle to San Francisco, and from companies like Starbucks (Archie & Smith, 2018; Ho, 2018; Starbucks, 2018). Celebrities praised the #StopSucking campaign with the fervor of fornicating sea turtles. Out of the Internets, oozing from the muck and dumpster fires, arose #SuckItAbleism...disabled people telling their stories on social media. These two tags of hash were in an epic narrative battle over the right to be disabled in public, wholly and unapologetically. With each story and selfie, disabled people created culture, knowledge, and visibility against an ableist tsunami of interrogation, disbelief, and dismissal." [Camera pans to children spellbound by the tale, their eyes wide with terror and fear. From the west, a dust storm sweeps through the camp, extinguishing the fire as the children and the old wheelchair user retreat to a cave nearby. Interior. Cave. The wizened storyteller coughs, continuing her story.] "Like canaries in a cave mine, the Disabled Ones said, 'We need plastic straws to drink, for nutrition and hydration. We deserve access without requests. Exemptions by the non-disableds cannot protect us.' And like this howling wind, the voices of disabled people were drowned out as accessibility was sacrificed for a zero-waste life, not knowing the value of single-use plastics would have to save the human race post-plague. Now we search high and low for straws for first aid and other plastics to stay alive while the alien strain claim more of our kind everyday. We, the Disabled Ones, had stockpiles for our survival as the Soft Ones [a.k.a. The Non Disableds] withered away with their hemp bandages and pasta straws. We are still here, fighting for everyone. What is the lesson, my little ones?" [All the children reciting in unison against a backdrop of a makeshift clinic.] "Believe disabled people!" [Sounds of a wolf howling. Fade to black. Roll Credits.]
Aimi: Alice seemed to often be thinking about herself in the role of a wisened disabled elder, telling stories of how we survive and thrive despite everything thrown at us. These stories felt like oracular revelations. Reading them, I remember thinking to myself, "Maybe Alice is some kind of prophet," as if the answer was not obvious.

As the COVID-19 pandemic began in 2020, our conversations about eugenics, and also about about life and living, deepened. We took every opportunity for remote access and connection. Of this time, Alice wrote in a narrative for the Remote Access Archive, "There is deep disabled joy and love in remote access. This disabled wisdom prepared us for a world that shut down while nondisabled people scrambled to acclimate to a reality we already intimately know."

Here's a bit of our conversation in 2020, part of a series of Contra* episodes called "Solidarity Chats":

Alice: I think so much of this is also based on judgements of like our quality of life, you know? I think some of the calculus or, you know criteria is often based on like, prognosis and like how many years do you live with treatment, if you recover, for you know, one person compared to another person. And, you know, obviously if you're older or disabled, you may not live as long if you have all the access to treatment and interventions. And, you know, somehow, because those pure numbers of, "This person might live seven years versus twenty years," does that-I mean does that really mean that the person with fewer years shouldn't have the opportunity to live? I mean, I think sometimes the metrics is just really messed up, where it's just based on like, longevity, which really isn't a fair measure, because I think as disabled people and older people are just still people, though 00:17:05; it's really what you do with your time. It's really about the quality of the time that you have left. And I think, for myself, personally, you know, I don't take anything for granted right now. I've never-I've not taken anything for granted for quite a long time with my progressive disability as I really have become weaker over time, just because of the natural progression. I actually feel like, you know, ironically the most excited, the most, like... I'm really at my peak now! 00:17:47 Even though I'm really-if you look just purely based on paper, I'm at like, the most declined in terms of just, you know, functioning and all those biomedical kind of measures. But like, you know, I feel the most alive right now. And I think that's something that never is going to appear on a questionnaire or on a protocol. You know, we lose so much of the... the qualitative aspects of what it means to be alive and what it means to want to be alive. I think that's, you know, something that's missing, and I think that's why storytelling is so important to me right now.

Aimi: From storytelling came Alice's prophecy that disabled people are modern oracles, truthtellers whose ideas are often ignored until it is too late.

Alice: I understand sometimes we feel compelled because of the world around us, and the circumstances around us. But, you know, I think right now, I think at this time and way before this time, you know, disabled people are the- are modern day oracles. You know, we've been telling the truth and trying to tell our truth forever. And whether or not people have been listening to us, or not. And if that's-the one message I would say is that, you know, we have been telling our, you know, real talk about the world. And I feel like this is something that's so needed right now. 00:20:12 And my hope is that as a lot of non-disabled folks kind of get a small inkling of everything they've taken for granted and just that this privilege they've had and their loss of-temporary loss of privilege at this point. Or, you know, this kind of temporary inconvenience-that they realize the kind of truth and the power of our truths. So, maybe that's-that's what I'll end with, is that idea that we are the real oracles and, you know, hopefully people will pay attention.

Aimi: I'm holding the Disabled Oracles deck that Alice, Jen, and I created together. It's the first print run, a sample so that we can print more. The card I pull is called The Wormhole, and it shows a circular portal. The archetypes in the cards were Alice's ideas. They include the Ancestor, the Alarm, the Root, and the Dream. The last one is the Wormhole, sort of a card of death and rebirth. The questions it asks are, How do you bend and crip time? What value does time hold for you? How do you make time for yourself and others?

Grief makes time feel unstable. It bends back on itself, and you feel like you are transported into other worlds, other timelines. As I told another friend and comrade grieving Alice's transition into ancestorhood, the deaths I have witnessed often make me wonder if there are other worlds and timelines out there where we are still with our loved ones. Maybe there are some where Alice lives to be a wisened old crone at 100. We just happen to live in this particular timeline. Somewhere out there, the other us's are still with her.

Alice writes to me in a letter from the past, dated September 11, 2020. "Strange how it's only been a week since our hangout on Zoom, and the world feels even more apocalyptic and eugenic than before [...] I hope correspondence like this keeps our connections alive and provides a historical paper trail of our times." Her signature says, "Alice," but to me, it always looks more like, "Alive."

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Episode 55: For Alice Wong - Critical Design Lab

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
This episode celebrates Alice Wong, crip ancestor and disabled oracle, through her collaborations with the Critical Design Lab and Contra* podcast.

# data[].attributes.body
Alice's heart reached us

through her words

through the screen

through her books

through her fierce actions

as someone who never met her, i am in awe of all the love she fostered powerfully

thank you Alice and all her loved ones who made today happen, for giving us a chance to celebrate and cry together

# data[].attributes.body
"Her possibilities exist at the crossroads of time where she has always been and where she is waiting for us." - Yosmay del Mazo

# data[].attributes.body
I never could've imagined a person affecting my life without meeting them until Alice. I think of her every time I doubt my mission as a disabled writer. Today my holds for Alice's books became available at the library so I got to pick them up before this. I ordered my favorite snacks, painted my nails, and wore my favorite fit in Alice's honor, and I will be making her an ancestor candle tonight.

# data[].attributes.body
Alice Wong curated spaces for storytellers to write about disability in its range, tensions, and gifts. As I work on my shit, as I try to make sense of the world, as I try to understand the messy bits I can often turn to work that she created, edited, or funded and find a reflection of what I’m going through. Alice was one of those talents that motivated me to write braver.

# data[].attributes.body
Oh Alice, I will never have the words to fully describe my love and devotion to you. One of my greatest honors is to walk in your roll trail and build amongst all of the lovely Alice Cinematic Universe. You have taught me how to live when i was dying and how to see dying as a way to live. I love you so much. We won t let them grind us down. we will conspire to ground the system down instead. With all my crip care, Bella Ramirez dec Arellano

# data[].attributes.headline
Thank you Alice, for helping me see how beautiful, magical and revolutionary our community is. I will love you forever. welcome, Ancestor. 

# data[].attributes.subject
Thank you Alice, for helping me see how beautiful, magical and revolutionary our community is. I will love you forever. welcome, Ancestor. 

# data[].attributes.headline
Don't let the bastards grind you down = Don't you dare forget how worthy you are. 

# data[].attributes.subject
Don't let the bastards grind you down = Don't you dare forget how worthy you are. 

# data[].attributes.body
Quotes from the celebration!!!

"Rest but do. Fight but be."

"Eat well, feed each other, set the table with care, share the best you have."

"Snacking is good, snacking often is better."

[paraphrased] Save your anger for the institutions, keep your humanity, humor, and joy intact.

Comfort is not the goal; justice is.

Defy all boxes (except for the cats).

We are delighted to have you as an ancestor, it's our turn to set the table now.

#AliceIsLove #GoodShitTakesTime

# data[].attributes.body
Alice's words for the foreword of Preserving Disability: Disability & the Archival Profession

# data[].attributes.attachment_caption
ID: A little area I made for celebrating Alice in my apartment. A favorite photo of us, one of the #DisabledRage posters we made together this summer, a postcard she sent me, small animal figurines (wish I had a cat and a snail to add!), a mini delicious dessert, an angel. And a vase of droopy white tulips.

# data[].attributes.body
My Alice alter

# data[].attributes.wish_content.attachment_props.alternative_text
A little area I made for celebrating Alice in my apartment. A favorite photo of us, one of the posters we made together this summer, a postcard she sent me, small animal figurines (wish I had a cat and a snail to add!), a mini delicious dessert, an angel. And a vase of droopy white tulips.

# data[].attributes.headline
Thank you Alice for everything <3 #AliceIsLove

# data[].attributes.subject
Thank you Alice for everything <3 #AliceIsLove

# data[].attributes.body
"These days I like to think of Alice as a spectrum of infinite light that reaches in all directions and connects every single one of us through time and space. She touches on something deep inside of me that is quiet and urgent, hopeful and exciting, and she tells me not to wait. Rest, but do. Fight but be. For possibility exists at the cross roads of time where she has always been and she's waiting for us." -Geraldine Ah-Sue

# data[].attributes.body
Thank you Alice, for everything you brought to the world and everything you have left for us to nourish ourselves with now that you are gone. I didn't consciously realise, until Yomi's beautiful words, that I was engaging in something radical when I invited people to my table. I will now keep setting my table, with care, in honour of you and for our community. I am so grateful for everything you did for disabled people.

# data[].attributes.headline
Abby Yim's Words, from the transcript pt. 2

# data[].attributes.subject
Abby Yim's Words, from the transcript pt. 2

# data[].attributes.body
One day about a year before Alice died I was sipping milky oolong tea on her couch when she typed on her text to talk app on her phone. so I'm going die before you the robotic app said loudly, cutting through the silence in the room. â€œWhat are you talking about?â€ I said looking at Alice aghast at where this morbid proclamation came from. We had never spoken that directly about her mortality before. She kept typing. â€œNo really, I am. Iâ€™m going to die before you and so I was thinkingâ€¦ we should really LOVE each other NOW.â€ She mouthed the word â€œnowâ€ emphatically, sinking the movement of her lips along with the robotic voice of the app. She had told the truth plainly, bravely, lovingly. In that moment I understood that this was Alice caring for me, in not allowing me to waste the time we did have together, insisting we be close even though it was hard, even though it would be brutal, knowing it was urgent. The last year of Aliceâ€™s life was the closest year we spent together as friends. Although we didnâ€™t know exactly when, we knew the end was near. It was the umami to the sweetness of the time we chose to invest with each other. The consistent complimentary flavor to the decadent moments laughing, cooking, scheming. The joy and pleasure had the constant bedfellow of the loss we knew weâ€™d experience. In loving each other we loved a certain version of the world not yet built, one we were constructing together in real time, one where we could choose to love each other fully despite the great cost of loss. To be present and connected to the delight, meaning and ecstasy of being truly known by another, with the faith that something immortal was being created in what we were offering each other, what we shared in. Derrida wrote that â€œto love a friend is to love the future.â€ He also wrote that democracy remains to come,â€ but as Hua Hsu wrote in reflecting on Derridaâ€™s work, â€œa radical and just form of friendship could help us imagine a new experience of freedom and equality.â€ Nothing felt more radical, more free than loving Alice without abandon in her last year of life. And on the day she died I thought that she was leaving me feeling so full of love-full like I felt after eating one of her meals. And in typical Alice fashion, as she left me at the end of every meal with her, she also left me with my time with her as her friend, with the delicious umami of not being completely full, of longing for just a little more.

# data[].attributes.headline
Abby Yim's Words, from the transcript pt. 1

# data[].attributes.subject
Abby Yim's Words, from the transcript pt. 1

# data[].attributes.body
Abby Yim. Abby Yim: The writer Hua Hsu said â€œStories about love offer models for how you might commit your life to another person. Stories about friendship are usually about how you might commit to life itself.â€ I can think of no other story of friendship that modelled how to commit to life more than the story of my friendship with Alice. One of Alice's favorite food writersSamin Nosrat. She would flip through the pages of Nosratâ€™s book Salt Fat Acid Heat and leave a menagerie of colorful post-it notes on the recipes she drew inspiration from. Cooking together is too vague of a description of what would happen in Aliceâ€™s kitchen when we would create a meal. She was more of a maestro and I was her first violinist. After Alice lost the ability to eat, she would use me as her taste- proxy in developing the recipes for her famous dinner parties. She would write the menu, precise and artful in her articulation of where each note of the meal would land, creating something completely unique to her and then sit with me in her kitchen as I performed what she had composed. To Alice, life was a banquet and in drawing on her epicurean sensibilities, I thought there would be no better way to describe what made up her life than to use the framework of what made up her meals: the salt, fat, acid and heat. In a meal salt animates the food, rendering what one would think was inedible into something delectable thanks to a seemingly simple sprinkle. Even a sweet thing like a chocolate chipcookie is made better with salt flaked on top. To Alice the salt of life, the essential component in anything she did, the fundamental flavor of her life, what sustained her-was friendship. Alice often called her friends her conspirators. She loved to hatch plans with friends. As an activist, Alice is considered to be an oracle. Her ability to vision futures and map out complex and brilliant plans to achieve a world free from ableism tapped into her deep love of science fiction, unrivaled complex problem solving and magical deep knowing. Alice was also an oracle with her friends, oftentimes seeing futures for them that they themselves couldnâ€™t see yet. The philosopher Jacques Derrida wrote that â€œto love friendship one must love the futureâ€ and reflected on the understanding inherent in every friendship that one person will outlive the other. In this knowing that one friend will outlive the other, what are we hoping will carry forward after we die with the love and care we have invested in those closest to us? What becomes immortal? Alice would often say that books are immortal, which is why she dedicated so much of her life to her writing and editing of other disabled authorsâ€™ works. There is also an immortality to friendship, which I believe Alice knew and is a reason why she was such a brilliant friend. Alice was very aware of her mortality and knew that most of the people she loved would outlive her. This deep knowing informed how she loved each of us. Her care and investment in the vision she had for each of us, for what we could accomplish was an act of great love not just for us as her friends but for the beautiful future she adamantly believed everyone deserves. That kind of generosity as a friend, her care and outpouring of belief in each of us, her belief in our capacity to actualize our potential was one of the ways she expressed her love for the world. For Alice, the fat of life was her taste level one that insisted on vibrancy and opulence making her unavoidable. She compelled everyone to watch, to listen, to learn, and to enjoy it when they did. Even people who had absolutely no interest in disability justice had a deep fascination with Alice and would inevitably become seduced into also championing Aliceâ€™s advocacy thanks in large part to how fun she made activism feel. The nuances of her personality, the profundity of her words, were all made so much more palatable because of her humor and playful insistence that the fat of life: the pleasure, the beauty, the excess- was not an optional aspect to her work but a fundamental component that was the engine of creativity and an inviting force that welcomed others to join her fashionable fight. In reflecting on acid, itâ€™s natural to see that what brightened and illuminated the truth of the world for Alice what gave her the platform to antagonize and disrupt all that enraged her the acid of life- was her activism. Like acid, Aliceâ€™s activism was multi-dimensional. It could agitate and illuminate while detoxifying, providing a cleansing effect to the spaces she brought her work. At first what is acidic in a recipe can taste sharp on your tongue, like the one page of Aliceâ€™s memoir, Year of the Tiger that just read â€œF- you. Pay me.â€ Yet upon letting the flavor settle, her work could also balance and tenderize what it touched. The humor, dignity and flare for channeling Rihanna when making a point brought out the complexity and dimensionality of her activism. She wasnâ€™t someone complaining about not getting the crumbs, she was a mogul that was standing up for what she deserved. A force who understood that fighting for disability justice with the air, gravitas and presence of a global superstar would be incredibly compelling and effective. The acid never just hit one note. Alice had a way of making her activism feel essential, balancing to the mainstream conversation that had been missing the needed element of disabled voices to even out the cultural palette that had for far too long been boring in its flavor profile, missing the essential ingredient of a disabled activistâ€™s incisive point of view. To Alice the heat of life was her love of hospitality, which was elevated to a kind of alchemy. A particular kind of magic happened to all of us brought together to bask in the glow of her generosity, warmth and spicy conversation. You couldnâ€™t help leaving an Alice Wong party at her gorgeous, light-filled home feeling changed. Made to feel a renewed commitment to be a better cook, conversationalist and connector. Alice loved to party. After one of her hospital stays she hosted a gathering themed â€œIâ€™m back BITCHESâ€ which marked her triumphant survival after duking it out in the ICU with the medical industrial complex. The party involved a 90â€™s hip hop playlist, pupusas and taquitos. Aliceâ€™s passion for hosting only increased over the years and really took flight when she moved into the first and last apartment. One of Aliceâ€™s greatest longings was to live by herself. Thanks to her grit and phenomenal success, she was able to finally live on her own. When you stepped inside Aliceâ€™s home you were flooded by a multi-sensory feast. The smell of a garlic black bean sauce simmering on the six burner stove, the site of a long dining room table withcandles flickering next to an assortment of colorful Heath ceramic plates and bowls full of steaminmiso and flecks of fresh dill, the sound of one of the playlists she curated playing Bruno Mars or Elton John, egging you on to turn your walk in to a shimmy of a dance as you moved g white rice, thinly sliced cucumbers glistened with a dressing of rice wine vinegar, towards Alice who sat in her chair mouthing ecstatically â€œWelcome! Welcome!â€ wearing a plum colored lipstick and an ornate fuzzy knit sweater thatâ€™s soft fluff would pleasantly brush your towards Alice who sat in her chair mouthing ecstatically â€œWelcome! Welcome!â€ wearing a plum colored lipstick and an ornate fuzzy knit sweater thatâ€™s soft fluff would pleasantly brush your cheek as you bent down to hug her. When you left her place (usually holding multiple tupperwares full of leftovers) your eyes, heart and belly were very full. And lastly, because no meal is complete without dessert, Iâ€™d like to share something sweet. Alice and I would often laugh that the mark of a perfect dessert would be something that was not too sweet,â€ which is the highest compliment our Chinese parents would give to sweet treats. To achieve just enough sweetness, Alice would infuse umami into her desserts. Complementing a classic rice krispie treat recipe with a healthy sprinkling of the savory Japanese seasoning, furikake. Umami is considered to be the â€œessence of deliciousnessâ€ and the most mysterious flavor in that it is actually a taste that sits along other flavors. It coincides. It mystifies. It is long lasting,mouth watering and has the effect of leaving you only 80% satisfied. Umami in dessert meant leaving the meal with just a touch of longing.

# data[].attributes.headline
"Anywhere in the world where books exist I can come find you."-Sandy Ho

# data[].attributes.subject
"Anywhere in the world where books exist I can come find you."-Sandy Ho

# data[].attributes.attachment_caption
ID: An altar for Alice, with a keffiyah as a tablecloth. An embroidered image of a snail, a yellow candle, and a wreath of dried flowers sits on the table. A dilute tortie cat inspects the flame of the candle. The cat’s face is illuminated by the fire. 

# data[].attributes.body
The moment I lit the candle on Alice’s altar, my cat jumped up and drew towards the flame. I feel Alice may be doing some serious slow-blinking from the clouds.

In solidarity, grief, and liberation.

-Jude Garcia Hawthorne

# data[].attributes.attachment_caption
Image Description: Three people against a gray wall. Sky Cubacub on the left wears pink and blue scalemaille headpiece, chainmaille crop top with clear shoulder details, and sleeveless bodysuit colorblocked with neon and black-and-white triangle pattern, with wrestling boots in silver and turquoise. Alice Wong, an Asian woman who uses a power wheelchair, has a knit pink hat, using a ventilator, and black-and-white zigzag leggings with the seams on the outside, hooded cape with teal and orange color blocking. Nina Litoff on the far right kneels down, wearing a black chainmaille chestpiece with a black sheer tank dress with a chevron piece over their chest and a black and silver holo skirt under. All three wear colorful makeup and look directly at the camera.

# data[].attributes.body
The event will include a virtual reception, and people are encouraged to celebrate in their own way, such as by building altars, sharing stories, or supporting the community, as outlined in the

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Community Toolkit: Alice’s Celebration of Life

# data[].attributes.body
"She taught us to defy boxes – sure, we know this already in the disability community, but she taught us to defy ALL the boxes - unless they were for her cats to play in." - Emily Beitiks

# data[].attributes.attachment_caption
Image description: a small altar to Alice with a lit candlestick in a brass candle holder placed on top of a copy of Disability Visibility. There are 3 pieces of paper placed on the table- One says "Crip Magic" in a dark blue handwritten script on a light blue background; another says 'Good shit takes time" in black outlined bubble letters on a green background; the last says "stay angry' in red, yellow, green, and light blue sketchy lines. There are also a couple blackberries on the candle holder.

# data[].attributes.headline
Introspection & Laughter During Shutdown

# data[].attributes.subject
Introspection & Laughter During Shutdown

# data[].attributes.body
My first time e-meeting Alice--we were often interacting on Twitter--was during shutdown in 2020 before the publication of DISABILITY VISIBILITY. I was honored to be asked to provide a blurb and was ecstatic about how wonderful this curation was. We had a zoom convo filled with laughs and reflection, and just knowing this book was truly a gift and a passion and an embodiment of love. I looked forward to any and all convos we could have after that. So much love to you, Alice. ~JB

# data[].attributes.attachment_caption
Purple tulips held in a white multi necked vase

# data[].attributes.body
I never met Alice but she has transformed m life as a disabled person. Today I celebrate her full complex life and the legacy she left behind for us.

# data[].attributes.body
Alice's writing was amongst those that I read when studying disability justice in my masters course. hers was a voice that stuck with me - it was also clearly a voice that uplifted others. I never met Alice in person, but it will always feel like she held her hand out to me in the first few months of my chronic illness and said: it's okay. you're not alone. come in.

thank you, Alice.

# data[].attributes.body
Yomi Young. Our next speaker. >>>: To set a table for someone is to make a promise. I thought of you before you arrived. I made time. I believe your pleasure is worth preparing for. It is one of the oldest covenants humans know. The ancient Greeks called itzemia, a sacred bond between host and guest overseen by the gods themselves. Conveying you belong here. You are safe here. You are worthy of top shelf. Every culture has its version. Every tradition understands that to feed someone is not a small thing. It is in fact everything. Alice understood this in her bones. She celebrated food and pleasure, the way she celebrated everything she deeply valued. Fiercely, specifically, without embarrassment. She was as many will tell you, with enormous affection a bit bougie about it, a bit over the top as the kids say, extra. And she would not apologize. When she could still eat she savered. When she could no longer eat, Alice remained a food evangelist, pinning a love note to peaches with a sensuality that stunned writing about craving and memory and the way flavor lives in the body long after the body can no longer receive it. That is not a small thing. That is an act of will. That is Alice insisting until her last breath that pleasure was not something she was going to relinquish. That was a practice. That was her politics. Because Alice knew that setting a table is always a political act. To decide who gets invited, who gets to be nourished, whose hunger is worth honoring. These are not neutral questions in a world that calls disabled lives too costly, too complicated, too inconvenient. A world that builds its tables too high, its doors too narrow, its welcome too conditional. Alice raged against all of it. And then she made Jook and then she prepared her parent's lunch twice a week faithfully and then she mailed cookies to friends, put the first taste of picked quail eggs on my daughter's palate. She set the most elegant tables and invited us all to feast. For any reason, any season. Because she survived a hellish hospital stay, let's eat. Because Hanukkah, springtime, because lunar new year, because that other new year. Because oh, hey, it's October. In October 2022 she curated an outstanding menu. Named it autumnal abundance and served us braised pork belly with chestnuts butternut squash, die con and mushrooms over rice topped with pickled cucumbers, carrots and radishes. Dessert was black sesame cheesecake. She made the every day celebratory as an act of love and defiance. To set a table for people our own government willfully discards to insist on our pleasure, our belonging, our right to these small exquisite delicacies was itself the resistance. The table was the argument. The feast was the manifesto. The day before Alice died after I said good-bye to my friend, one of the first thoughts that broke through the shock was this: who will set the table for us now? Not a metaphor. A real and frightened question. Because Alice was the one who gathered us, the one who thought about what you needed, what would delight you, what would make you, you belonged somewhere and that your pleasure was worth tending to. And suddenly she was gone and the question underneath all the grief was who does that now? Who will insist on our joy and delight the way she insisted on it? Many of us are still sitting with that question. But here is what the old stories teach us. Humans have always set tables for those who cannot physically be there. In every tradition the host who fed you becomes in death the ancestor and you feed them in return. The table doesn't disappear when the host does. The relationship doesn't end. It transforms. Alice is transformed now. And the answer to the question who sets the table for us now is us. And I'm going to pause for one second and go off script and say Alice would be all about this. This is Alice's god daughter. The one she allowed to blow bubbles inside the house. I would never, but Alice allowed it. Sh. Setting the table. It was always going to be us. Because every party she threw and every meal she served was also a lesson. Don't touch. Every care package mailed. Every friend fed, every table set with intention. All of it was Alice saying watch how this is done. You will need to know this. Do it for each other when I'm gone. So I will. And we will. And when we cook for each other, when we set a table and insist on a good meal in a middle of a damn hard year. When we make space for the ones the worlds keeps clenching down on we are honoring the covenant she kept. We are living to the maximum. We are refusing as she refused to shrink. Her final words to us were don't let the bastards grind you down. What I hear, don't you dare forget how worthy you are. We won't forget, Alice. We'll eat well. We'll feed each other. We'll make more space or pull up the extra chair for the ones who need it. We'll set the table the way you set it. With tremendous care. And the fierce belief that the people we love deserve the absolute best we have. Every moment with family and friends is a joy. You showed us that Alice. You were that. Thank you ancestor. We'll take it from here.

# data[].attributes.wish_content.attachment_props.alternative_text
Color pencil drawing of Alice, looking stylish and pensive, with a quote from her asking: "When will disabled people be free to just be and to fully participate in society with autonomy and dignity?"

# data[].attributes.headline
"Don't let  the bastards  grind  you down!"

# data[].attributes.subject
"Don't let  the bastards  grind  you down!"

# data[].attributes.headline
Disability Visibility & Disability Intimacy changed my bodymind and so I changed my bodymind

# data[].attributes.subject
Disability Visibility & Disability Intimacy changed my bodymind and so I changed my bodymind

# data[].attributes.body
I can’t be the only one so changed by the work of Alice Wong that it changed your bodymind and then it led to you changing your physical bodymind with a tattoo? My bodymind in this way, though I only ever had one email exchange with Alice Wong when I finally got up the courage to thank her for funding my fellowship to the The Unexpected Shape Writing Academy (and, yes, I told her about this tattoo too), is a perpetual alter to her and the work within her work.

This is an interpretive combination of two of her anthology covers designed by Madeline Partner, Disability Visibility and Disability Intimacy. My tattoo artist is also a high school friend, Olivia Obrecht in San Diego, California. I spent hours talking about the meaning with Olivia when it was created. I plan to add to it with the last anthology release. Those that know Alice Wong’s work, I hope will recognize it when it is shown- colors changes, triangles flipped, and everything.

# data[].attributes.wish_content.attachment_props.alternative_text
A  tattoo combining the two covers of Alice Wong’s anthology, cover designs by Madeline Partner. It has greens, blues, purples, yellows, and more featuring interpretations of flowers from Disability Intimacy and the triangles from Disability Visibility

# data[].attributes.body
"To set a table for someone is to make a promise. I thought of you before you arrived. I made time. I believe your pleasure is worth preparing for... Alice knew that setting a table is always a political act. To decide who gets invited, who gets to be nourished, whose hunger is worth honoring. These are not neutral questions in a world that calls disabled lives too costly, too complicated, too inconvenient. A world that builds its tables too high, its doors too narrow, its welcome too conditional. Alice raged against all of it... She set the most elegant tables and invited us all to feast. For any reason, any season." Yomi Young

# data[].attributes.headline
​​"To feed someone is not a small thing - it is, in fact, everything. Alice knew this in her bones" - Yomi Young

# data[].attributes.subject
​​"To feed someone is not a small thing - it is, in fact, everything. Alice knew this in her bones" - Yomi Young

# data[].attributes.body
I never met Alice but reading Disability Visibility while newly disabled made me feel seen in a way that I hadn't before. I will always be grateful to her for that. May she rest well.

# data[].attributes.headline
"And she tells me not to wait. Rest. But do. Fight. But be. For possibility exists at the crossroads of time, where she has always been. Waiting for us."-Geraldine Ah-Sue

# data[].attributes.subject
"And she tells me not to wait. Rest. But do. Fight. But be. For possibility exists at the crossroads of time, where she has always been. Waiting for us."-Geraldine Ah-Sue

# data[].attributes.headline
"So many members of the Alice Wong Cinematic Universe"

# data[].attributes.subject
"So many members of the Alice Wong Cinematic Universe"

# data[].attributes.headline
"Hang in there, keep reading, and stay angry"

# data[].attributes.subject
"Hang in there, keep reading, and stay angry"

# data[].attributes.headline
Disability Intimacy: Essays on Love, Care, and Desire

# data[].attributes.subject
Disability Intimacy: Essays on Love, Care, and Desire

# data[].attributes.headline
Words to live  by:  "Good shit takes  time."

# data[].attributes.subject
Words to live  by:  "Good shit takes  time."

# data[].attributes.headline
Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories from the Twenty-First Century

# data[].attributes.subject
Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories from the Twenty-First Century

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
The StoryCorps Archive includes voices from across the United States and around the world. Explore our growing collection of tens of thousands of interviews.

# data[].attributes.headline
This is a memory of attending a play with Alice

# data[].attributes.subject
This is a memory of attending a play with Alice

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Sweatshop Overlord by Kristina Wong - Calling Up Justice!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
March 29 Event Report from Claudia Alick Playwright and performer Kristina Wong invited me to see their one person show Sweatshop Overlord at ACT Theater. I’m disabled and have to be very cautious for my health. I was disappointed to find out the theater didn’t offer a mask mandated evening but Kristina invited me to […]

# data[].attributes.headline
Disability Visibility (Adapted for Young Adults): 17 First-Person Stories for Today

# data[].attributes.subject
Disability Visibility (Adapted for Young Adults): 17 First-Person Stories for Today