All products are independently selected by our editors. If you buy something, we may earn an affiliate commission.
This excerpt from Year of the Tiger: An Activist’s Life is a love letter to disabled Asian American women and girls who feel alone and yearn for connection.
It took me a long time to find my people, my community. As an Asian American disabled girl in Indiana, I was often the only disabled girl of color or a handful of Asian Americans in class at school. I couldn’t articulate the absence but I knew it was there. I had to work through internalized ableism and racism until I was a little more comfortable in my skin and ready to seek out my kin. I’m still working on it everyday.
I am loving life as a 48 year-old cyborg who has done more than just survive! Growing up isolated during the prehistoric times before the internet made me appreciative of the relationships and community organizing that I built on social media. There are so many f****ing amazing disabled Asian American women that I am connected with now such as Sandie Yi, Akemi Nishida, Stephanie Foo, Esmé Weijun Wang, Melissa Hung, Wendy Lu, Sejal Shah, Mia Mingus, and Sandy Ho just to name a few. It is not enough to say we exist and need more representation. I prefer to center ourselves and be in community with one another.
When I wrote my memoir, Year of the Tiger: An Activist’s Life, I wanted to comfort, encourage, and welcome Asian American women and girls who are still finding their way, struggling with their identities, and told all kinds of bullshit from their communities. We are multitudes and we are more than enough. The following excerpt is my love letter to them and future generations who still feel alone and unsure of their place in the world.
Hello!
Hey there, I got your email, letter, tweet, or direct message. Or maybe I met you at an online event or at a party pre-pandemic. Or maybe I met your mom one time I was shopping, and she stopped me and cried, telling me how amazing it was to see someone like you out in public but older. Or maybe it was a friend of a friend who connected us because we both happen to be Asian American and disabled (we are not a monolith, and yet people presume we automatically have a lot in common). Either way, here I am, replying to you.
Thank you for sharing your story with me, your questions, and your request for mentorship. First of all, I see and hear you. I hoped things would be better in the twenty-first century, but it’s clear that disabled people of color, including Asian American women and girls, still feel disconnected and alone. I did not set out to become a storyteller or activist, but it emerged organically as I struggled to find myself and my people. I hope my story and work help you imagine other paths, but please remember I am just one example. There is a lot of work ahead, and collectively we can succeed in our own ways.
Shit is hard, right? Growing up and becoming more comfortable in our own skin is a tough, nonlinear process. I am still working on myself as I imagine you are, too. In the midst of your challenges and searches, I hope you are taking time to find joy in the world. Building and nurturing relationships gives me joy. It might take a while, but you will eventually find people who have your back whether they have the same disability or come from the same culture or not. And maybe there aren’t any solutions or immediate answers to the questions you’re asking. All we can do is discover what or who makes us happy now.
We don’t need a nonprofit to establish a community just for us…we don’t need to identify, use the “right” words, or carry a membership card to be connected. We exist and that is everything! It’s easy to say and harder to accept, but you are enough. In fact, if you’re too much, rejoice in being all that and more. This may seem like a cliché, but you do you.
Do not feel obligated to represent or speak on diversity, intersectionality, or identity. There will be people out there who see you only in those narrow terms. Those are not your people no matter how nice and “helpful” they seem. You can talk and think about disability however you want, especially the uncomfortable, difficult, shameful, messy stuff. Fuck the rules. Fuck the model minority myth and respectability politics.
There will also be times you’re made to feel like you can’t be your full self, that you have to choose. Or that you have to be grateful to be in America because things are “better” here (on stolen land, by the way). Resist the notion that disability rights and disability justice in the United States are more progressive or a beacon to the world, because that’s some capitalist colonizer bullshit. We can take the best parts of our cultures and let them inform our understanding of what it means to be human. There is wisdom and beauty from disabled people everywhere. We just have to look and have the humility to learn.
I appreciate the time and vulnerability it took for you to reach out to me. To keep it 100 percent honest with you, I am not your role model, mentor, or friend. I prefer to be your peer, colleague, or fellow troublemaker in the future. Role models create unrealistic expectations and an asymmetrical power dynamic; role models or icons can do more harm than good because they obscure the flaws and contradictions we all have. I’ve become increasingly uncomfortable over the years with the way people perceive me, because it is a lot. I don’t want the fear of disappointing others to influence my decisions, because I am accountable to myself first and foremost. Setting boundaries and being clear about my time and capacity are ways to protect myself, and I encourage you to do the same when you are ready.
Living at multiple axes of oppression can be heavy. The many identities you hold and your lived experiences are not in conflict with each other; they make you sharp, whole, and extraordinary. You may not see yourself that way yet, but I believe in you and who you will become. No matter what happens, even if we never cross paths or speak again, I am grateful that we are in this universe together.
Your comrade,
Alice
From YEAR OF THE TIGER: An Activist’s Life by Alice Wong. Reprinted by permission from Vintage Books, an imprint of the Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright © 2022 by Alice Wong.
Stay up-to-date with the politics team. Sign up for the Teen Vogue Take
