5 / 5 stars

I’m a big fan of creative nonfiction. I love Disability studies and reading about Disabled culture (I also love being Disabled and chronically ill). I especially enjoy Disabled nonfiction that explicitly denounces inspiration porn and refuses to partake in it. I desperately want to be, as she calls it, a fellow troublemaker alongside Alice Wong.

Basically, I was made for this, sickly bodymind and all. Even if I didn’t tick all those boxes, if I were a nondisabled person who didn’t feel the same pull I do to this, it’s just objectively enjoyable.

Now, I can’t speak on some of the parts covered, especially her sharing her experiences and identity as Chinese American as I am white. They were written very endearingly, and I could physically feel the love, nostalgia, and appreciation she has for these experiences with her family. And that’s really lovely.

I can, however, speak on the Disability content and some of the other related ideas.

The serious subjects – explored in the past, the very recent past, pieces of the present, and the future – are given the respect and discussion they deserve, but the delivery blends them so smoothly with the intimacy of looking into a person’s life and still exemplifies her charming wit and silliness.

And yeah, sometimes it does really suck to live in a nondisabled world as a Disabled person, yet the community we share makes the horrors we have to see everyday somewhat worth it. If it weren’t for my fellow people experiencing ‘Crip Rage’, I don’t know where I would be. I love seeing it so honestly put into words without fear of reprimand; that freedom is a luxury I got to enjoy vicariously while reading.

I have somewhat of a complicated relationship with my chronic illness; I’ve had it all my life but never knew. I found out about a year ago that I could be chronically ill and that chronic illnesses could be disabilities. I’d grown up in a house with Disabled parents and still never realized my own identity.

Regardless, I am not mad at my younger self. The barriers I faced in making this realization were not of my own creation. There were no mental barriers, a refusal to accept that which differentiated me from my peers. I simply didn’t have the words, resources, or knowledge required to come to this conclusion. So I’m mad at the systemic ableism that lies within the roots of our society, the ‘Crip Rage’ I previously alluded to.

Yet, I still have the immense privilege of being born after the passage of section 504. After the ADA. After the Olmstead decision, even. These are immense advantages that my Disabled ancestors fought for in order to give the future generation of Disabled people the chance at equity they never had.

I am grateful for their work. I would never want to fight for such minimal respect as they did. I now have some legal rights as a Disabled person and can use those to continue with their foundation.

I’m also infinitely grateful to Alice Wong and her fellow troublemakers for the work they’re doing in protecting themselves and future generations of Disabled people while still honoring the names of those who came before them. They are the modern Disabled activists that I am lucky to be able to look up to and have protecting me without knowing of my existence.

Thank you to Netgalley and all involved for the ARC.

THERE ARE SO FEW BOOKS ON ASIAN AMERICAN ACTIVISM. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and each authors perspective on how their disability affects their life and how they were drawn to activism - some forced, some willingly, but all for the same cause to life equality and cope better.