This groundbreaking memoir offers a glimpse into an activist's journey to finding and cultivating community and the continued fight for disability justice, from the founder and director of the Disability Visibility Project
In Chinese culture, the tiger is deeply revered for its confidence, passion, ambition, and ferocity. That same fighting spirit resides in Alice Wong.
Drawing on a collection of original essays, previously published work, conversations, graphics, photos, commissioned art by disabled and Asian American artists, and more, Alice uses her unique talent to share an impressionistic scrapbook of her life as an Asian American disabled activist, community organizer, media maker, and dreamer. From her love of food and pop culture to her unwavering commitment to dismantling systemic ableism, Alice shares her thoughts on creativity, access, power, care, the pandemic, mortality, and the future. As a self-described disabled oracle, Alice traces her origins, tells her story, and creates a space for disabled people to be in conversation with one another and the world. Filled with incisive wit, joy, and rage, Wong’s Year of the Tiger will galvanize listeners with big cat energy.
* This audiobook includes a downloadable PDF containing photographs, illustrations and a crossword puzzle from the printed book.
Alice Wong (she/her) was a disabled activist, media maker, and consultant based in San Francisco. She was the Founder and Director of the Disability Visibility Project® (DVP), an online community dedicated to creating, sharing and amplifying disability media and culture.
big w for the disabled community. the book we deserve, and the book we need. hell yeah alice! thank you for writing this. to all the able bodied readers giving this low ratings — you don’t get it, you just don’t get it.
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.
One description of this book that recurs in reviews is thought provoking. That, I believe, is what is memorable about this book by Alice Wong, who is a disabled disability activist in San Francisco. The internet and social media have greatly expanded her outreach. This is a collection of essays, podcast interviews, art work and even recipes, all of which reflect Ms. Wong's world, and each of which deserves a slow and meaningful read. Highly recommended for everyone.
My thanks to Vintage Books who sent me a copy of this book, and to Goodreads Giveaways, who hosted the giveaway.
I was quite disappointed with this. Despite a stellar introduction, the rest of the book just kind of wades through the same points and stories over and over. This is largely because of the unconventional structure the author chose to use that included essays, interviews, etc., but that doesn’t make it any more enjoyable. A stronger editing hand could have made this a shorter and much stronger book.
This was one of my most anticipated reads of 2022 and it sure did not disappoint!! Long-time disability rights' activist Alice Wong has written an incredibly heartfelt and honest memoir+.
More than your typical disability memoir, Alice's book is a collection of essays and interviews that touch on sooooo many important issues. She talks about her early life as a child born to Chinese immigrant parents and diagnosed with muscular dystrophy. She was constantly in and out of the hospital and had to undergo multiple surgeries. She also talks about life as a person dependent on life-saving machines, government assistance and the importance of authentic representation in media.
What I really connected with though was Alice's experiences as a person dependent on a ventilator and later a feeding tube, who was particularly vulnerable during the pandemic. Few people truly understand the precarious position those of us who were under 65 but still incredibly high-risk faced while waiting to get vaccines that could mean the difference between life or death.
In my opinion this was one of the best books about ableism and living with a disability. I particularly enjoyed the essays on her life in high school, being denied theatre classes because the teacher didn't even give her the chance to participate or fighting for funding for necessary support workers.
A must read for anyone who has dealt with similar issues or anyone who wants to better understand what a significant portion of the population has to deal with on a regular basis as funding for people with disabilities continues to decline and come under attack.
Much thanks to @PRHAudio, NetGalley and the publisher for early digital copies of this book in exchange for my honest review!
Favorite quotes: "There's something incredibly affirming about seeing yourself reflected in popular culture."
I cried, I raged, I took away some good recipes - what a book. The format and arrangement are a little wonky - it's more like a series of essays, interviews and conversations, interspersed with recipes, texts, and other things - but Nancy Wu did a great narration for this audio version and kept it together for me.
Nancy Wu's narration is excellent, although the book definitely lends itself more to being read in print, as it features various interviews and a crossword puzzle.
A marvelous collection of some of Alice’s best and most prescient works, including recipes, coloring pages, and a crossword. Not only is this book funny, wrenching, and thought-provoking (to those new to disability studies and old pros alike!) it’s also an incredible pedagogical tool. As we read, Alice’s lived disability education winds around our own, and we discover again and again what it means to crip life, work, communication, memory, and more. I hope to see/teach this in many a future classroom.
A beautiful, scrapbook style memoir of the life of an Asian American disabled activist. There are essays, interviews, art, and more, and it's a compelling, engaging, and necessary read from a tremendous voice.
Because this is a collection of previous essays and interviews, it can be repetitive. But that will be helpful for people who are new to Wong’s work or learning about disability in general. We often need to hear information in different ways and at different times for it to really sink in. In any case, I’m really glad I made my way through this. I’ve learned so much from Alice over the years. The section on the pandemic was particularly powerful.
Content notes: death of friend, medical trauma, ableism, author has muscular dystrophy and scoliosis, ventilator user, COVID-19, blood, pain, surgery, hospitalizations, discussion of eugenics, discussion of institutionalization, mention of filicide, mention of murder, mention of miscarriage and pregnancy
I feel a little weird reviewing this book, this mosaic of a life lived with such verve, fortitude, and creativity. Who am I to review another person's life? I love reviewing books, but it is harder with memoirs because the line dividing book from an actual human being is so gossamer.
"Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life" is a powerful collage of essays, interviews, email chains, Twitter threads, photographs, art, recipes, and more about the life and activism of Alice Wong, founder and director of the Disability Visibility Project and the editor of the acclaimed anthology "Disability Visibility." This unusual format is very creative and was mostly enjoyable to read. There were some very repetitive parts, but I am guessing that was done on purpose to emphasize the repetitive, ongoing nature of activism and of the self-care that Wong must manage. I was made aware of several issues that disabled people deal with that I had never considered (there were a few sections on how the switch to paper straws can be very difficult to people with certain disabilities). I especially loved the very end, where Wong writes a fake obituary that imagines her life into her 90s (as somebody who was not expected to live to adulthood) with wit and imaginativeness.
However, if you are a seeing person, I STRONGLY do NOT recommend the audiobook. I don't think an audiobook is a good vehicle for the unusual format of "Year of the Tiger." It was hard to follow some of the more nontraditional elements, like Twitter threads. And while there is a downloadable companion pdf, I could never get it to download correctly from our library's website. So now I am waiting for the hardcopy, so I can see all the art and pictures described in the book. I also did not love the audiobook narrator. There were many interview transcripts in the book, and I really wished the audiobook could have included the original audio because I felt the narrator delivered the interviews very awkwardly, sometimes in weird, fake voices.
Well, if this did one thing for me, it inspired me to read a little bit more about the book I’m about to read/listen to beforehand. Though even if I did that, I still would have seen that it’s labeled a “memoir” when there’s maybe a third of what you would call that in the actual text.
I think what happened here was Alice had a book deal and then couldn’t think of anything new to write for it, so she just cobbled together old essays and podcast appearances. And maybe that makes for better actual reading than if you took in the audiobook, like I did…the transcripts of the podcasts are quite tedious to listen to. You’d think that because it was recorded that they would just play it in the book, but I guess that’s one more wrung above copy-write infringement than they were willing to go, so they just made the narrator, Nancy Wu, read for everyone that was on that episode. This makes for especially painful listening when Alice guested on W Kamau Bell’s podcast and we got to hear Nancy’s, uh, impression of him. Then you get to one podcast where Alice has on two underlings who go out of their way to say what a great and down-to-earth boss she is, like imagine if Alice had read that herself; her part and her employees parts.
Which is curious to me why she didn’t, considering one essay talking about disabled folks on the radio, and how she wants to hear long pauses, stutters, drools, etc. To hear an authentic disabled representation on the radio - this desire was not put into practice for the audiobook. No, Nancy Wu from what I can tell is an able bodied person with typical diction. Makes me wonder what else Alice believes in theory but not in practice.
And I hate having that thought, because I know she’s not nobody. I know she’s founded the organization Disability Visibility Project and spearheaded the #CripTheVote campaign, as is mentioned in this very book. She’s even written a few books worth of essays that might have been better introductions to her as an activist and writer. But with this one, it’s a victory lap, it’s behind the scenes, it’s gloating, and it’s maybe 20% new material / things that weren’t previously recorded or written somewhere else. The rest is elsewhere in the formats and publications they were intended to be in.
In all, I didn’t read or listen to this book so much as I just sat through it. Once the third podcast transcript was read, I was out. Maybe this wasn’t meant to be listened to, which, ironically, would make it quite ableist. The best thing I can say about Year of the Tiger is that better things precede it. The worst thing I can say about it is that it’s not literature - it’s content.
First book club book! I actually heard about Alice Wong on my co-design class so I was interested to read this book. It tackles so many important things but wow her writing voice is so millennial and honestly it really took me out of the story/ message at some points.
So this was not what I was expecting at all. While I appreciate Alice Wong's work, this book is a hodgepodge of different things in seemingly random order, things like essays, recipes, and transcripts of interviews and podcasts. There were some sections I really enjoyed, but overall found it disappointing, especially after reading the compelling introduction.
I finished this book, but I wish I had dnf’d it long before. While I did enjoy the parts about Alice’s Chinese heritage and her daily life living as a disabled person, the intolerance Alice has for other groups of people oozes from the pages. The format is wonky as well. I did feel her essays were the strongest component, but I got tired of the interviews and podcast transcripts. Disappointing.
To be honest, the 'multifaceted impressionistic collage' approach didn't work for me. It felt like there were 2 different, partial books pushed together here, which took away from the individual essays. Maybe it would have worked better in print than audio? I'm glad to have read all of the pieces, but I wish I could have read it as 2 separate works.
Good shit takes time. Extend time, bend time, crip time.
Sometimes I get to a point in my disabled life that I think, "yeah, this overwhelming, soul-crushing loneliness and isolation is fine, it's just the way it has to be," and then I read Alice Wong.
I carried a paperback library copy of this book around me while being displaced from the Portland 2024 ice storm this past January. Historic ice storms suck for everybody--but I assure you they are even suckier if you can't walk on ice without risking major injury or your body is incapable at keeping you at a reasonable temperature. From my half frozen toliet, to the car running in the parking lot so we could stay warm, to the dog-friendly motel where we were eventually forced to go to, this book was my constant companion and it saved me from fully losing my shit.
This collection of essays, interviews, photos, and illustrations gives us a glimpse into Alice Wong's life as a disabled Chinese-American activist. In addition to conversations with other awesome disabled people, there are bits from Alice's childhood including memories of celebrating Lunar New Year, as well as some of her anxieties, fears, hopes, and dreams.
A poignant part that stuck out to me is what Alice can experience during a powerful storm. As she needs a ventilator to breathe, Alice relies on electricity to stay alive. If the power goes out, time starts counting down until the battery (and the back up battery) will need to be charged again to keep Alice breathing. Through reading this, and dealing with my own, different circumstances during the ice storm, I spent a lot of time wondering what other obstacles and disasters disabled people have to face in situations where they are usually not thought of at all.
I struggle with reading non-fiction sometimes, but Year of the Tiger is broken down into more digestible sections that helped me stay focused. And I think all memoirs should have photos, personally.
I am choosing not to rate this title but I deem it a very important read that can teach you a lot. I will certainly come back to Alice Wong's writing again when I need to feel like I belong in this world.
Overall, I think this was a good book, and challenged some of my views/taught me more about some of the hurdles physically disabled people face (though I’m seeing some of that in real time with my 30 year old sister). That said, I am in disagreement with some of her views, and feel a bit of like cognitive dissonance with others.
My disabilities are not visible like hers, and not as limiting, but it’s still real, and I get that being white will automatically get me better treatment in the US, but I’ve still faced lots of shitty and unhelpful medical people; like I get it’s her memoir and worldview, but some of the overarching disdain towards white people was a bit upsetting to read, like in the intro where she talks about being proud and getting diversity points for reading her memoir and being a “good” ally, and the page spread that just says “STFU white people”.
But also the memoir felt too repetitive, hearing the same anecdotes two, three times. I liked the atypical format of not just essays, but I feel like there were too many redundancies. And I skipped the section on the spit cup, bodily fluids skeeze me out (not blood so much, but most everything else). But in the end of the book:
“As with many people who came of age during the 1999 Olmstead decision by the U.S. Supreme Court, Alice lived to see the abolition of carceral institutions such as psychiatric hospitals, nursing homes, and prisons.”
I take umbrage with this bc yes, lots of people were/are institutionalized against their wills, but psychiatric hospitals are also life savers, shout-out to McLean Psychiatric Hospital in Belmont, MA.
Wasn’t going to write a review because I hate to be mean but Alice Wong was annoying about the 2024 election online and I’m petty, so here we go!! This memoir was made up of so much recycled content from other sources so it got extremely repetitive. I would get the same story multiple times across different chapters because one was recycled from a blog post, another was recycled from a podcast transcript, etc. The organization made sense at first but then it just got disjointed. I was oftentimes bored while reading. I read this for a class on memoirs at my university, and no one in the class particularly enjoyed it, so I’m not alone! I think Wong has a valuable perspective on life, but this was just NOT the way to go about providing it. I wouldn’t recommend this book.
P.S. it makes zero sense to me to spend SO MUCH TIME in this book talking about how important Medicaid has been in your life, then not vote for the only candidate who PROMISED NOT TO CUT MEDICAID OR MEDICARE, thereby allowing the candidate who HAS promised to cut those programs to win!!!! And write an article about why you’re not voting Democrat in a national news outlet!! It is so so hard to take Wong seriously when she does something like that.
Disabled activist and Chinese American Alice Wong's memoir is a collection of ephemera: essays, interviews, transcripts, questionnaires, images, photos, and more. I especially loved reading about her childhood (I tend to in general love people's childhood stories). This is a really important book in terms of disability memoir. So often memoirs are framed as "inspirational" or "overcoming X" or depressing. But in no terms does Wong allow the reader to pity her or find her inspiring because she's disabled. Her disability is part of her identity. She had a happy childhood, she enjoys her adult life. She's pissed about all the ableism and lack of accessibility. We should all be.
Also, I hope she does get that editing job focused on a disability imprint for a major publisher!
I liked this book, the writing style, and the mixed-media format but unfortunately I didn't like it as much as Wong's other book. I found this one a little repetitive (and that's ok!) and the second half of the book was not as engaging. Furthermore, I've read some of these essays before and I thought these would be all new essays. Overall, I will keep following her future publishing endeavours and still liked this; I just wasn't as impressed as I expected to be.
YEAR OF THE TIGER is a collection of original essays, previously published works by Alice Wong - founder of Disability Visibility project and an Asian American disability rights activist.
Wong's voice is undeniable and she is not here solely to please the general public - because this book isn't a typical memoir focused on her disability, but rather an irregular narrative that will certainly impress you. In a reality in which (disability) activism is undervalued, buried under the toxic light of capitalism, white supremacy and ableism, Wong fights for freedom and bodily autonomy. From policy changes to systemic barriers that are rooted in ableism to being deprioritized, the disability community whose works is endless and often frustrating, is as relevant as you and me. Wong makes use of satire in her stories to emphasize the lack of support/accessibility and struggles during pandemic, and these left me enraged. However, in the face of what feels like hopelessness, Wong manifests her resilience through the infinite dreams and small/big celebrations.
Wong's discussion with author Riva Lehrer shines light on my own biases on ableism and how we don't regard disability in its details and complexity (also urged me to read "Golem: a memoir"). The words left me unsettled about how I perceive disability community and my nondisabled privilege, making me more mindful of my lack of knowledge. Her memories about Lunar New Year and Hong Kong were one of my favorite parts and recognizing some shared experiences as Chinese American warmed my heart.
Wong also shares valuable tips about interviews, podcasts and writing process; and the different structures (questionnaires, transcripts...) make it easy to engage with the book. By channeling writing of great finesse allied with the conversational tone, I was moved by Wong's honesty and vulnerability. It felt like reading a live journal as readers are invited to be part of her life.
There's an urgent need for more institutional changes and ultimately, we are called to advocate disability community. I'd recommend this book to everyone.
[ I received a complimentary copy from the publisher - Vintage archor . All opinions are my own ]
I always feel a little bit guilty when I give low ratings to a memoir about someone’s hard life, but sometimes said memoir is less about their hard life and more about their massive axe to grind. This is one such book. Alice Wong never fails to slip in a dig at white people, whether they be feminists, mothers who are afraid for their children, or The White Man, a nebulous boogeyman that pops up every now and then. I am not white, but I do find this a little ridiculous. The amount of buzzwords she drops makes parts of this book read like they were created by a generative AI. Did anyone else notice that she keeps blaming the amorphous, all-powerful Patriarchy for problems that are more more aptly described as… misogyny? The phrase “our able-bodied oppressors” made me roll my eyes, as did the suggestion to “keep a spreadsheet of all the fuckers who are dead to you.” Are they really dead to you if you keep a list of their names?
I wish someone would point out that saying a disabled person is not able to do something is not ableist. Perfectly healthy people are often unable to do things that most people can do. I am left-handed, and I don’t find it offensive when people say I cannot write with my right hand. My brother with dyslexia cannot read smoothly, should he write a bitter, rambling text in the guise of a memoir about how all reading should be tailored to him? Why, then, does Alice Wong feel the need to devote an entire chapter to how preferring a “pleasant, clear, and articulate voice” on the radio is ableist? I read this book to better empathize with my disabled friend and I must warn anyone with the same goal: this is not the book for that.
I enjoyed Alice Wong’s poetry and the section on cats, but little else.
Year of the Tiger is an incredible mosaic-style memoir comprised of essays, interviews, illustrations and memoir vignettes by disability justice leader Alice Wong. Wong’s writing is frank and funny, written in a way that exemplifies the persona of her podcast work. After reading the collection she edited, Disability Visibility, it was such a pleasure to get to know her story, including a childhood of persistence and adaptation, of the denial of admittance to a drama class that fueled her earliest activism, and her supportive family. The interviews included provide important context and detail about her work, as well as current conversations about accessibility. One of my favorite moments of the memoir is when Alice writes of her future self, projects the achievements coming and even the strength of her legacy.
In her introduction, Alice Wong points out the limitations that come with the standard expectations from the nondisabled public for a "disability memoir," and goes on to give us something very different with Year of the Tiger.
Rather than a narrative memoir, this is an anthology of Wong's writing, speeches and interviews, interspersed with art, photos, and quotations. While this means that readers who follow Wong on social media will have read much of the material before (I had, but it was still fantastic to revisit), and there's occasionally a little repetition (an essay and then an interview tell the same childhood story at one point), it also means she's able to avoid most of the "Disability 101" (and "Immigrant family 101") that chronological narrative memoirs encourage.
Definitely one that I'll be giving as a gift to a wide variety of people over the next year!
anyone who knows my reading habits knows that memoirs that are interwoven with politics and advice and liberation are my absolute favourite, and alice wong unsurprisingly does it beautifully. i can’t even pick a favourite section or two because it’s all done so well, but some highlights for me were the introduction, “just say nope” and activist wisdom, the discussions of straws, tech, and the internet as access tools, access is love, storytelling as activism, choreography as care, and all the reflections on the current pandemic. i look forward to someday rereading it.