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Big Cat Activism

  • 3 days ago
  • 6 min read

There is often a cultural expectation that sick and disabled people need to be ‘measured’, ‘collected’ —even grateful in relation to others and society. Alice Wong’s rip-roaring memoir Year of the Tiger firmly challenges that by catalysing big cat vibes!


Book cover of "Year of the Tiger" by Alice Wong. Bold black and red text on yellow background, featuring a stylized red tiger and flowers. Energetic mood.

Our winter read in the Pedantic Zebra Book Club focused on this memoir in honour of Alice, who passed on 14th November 2025. Let’s begin with the last message she wrote for the community:

You all, we all, deserve the everything and more in such a hostile, ableist environment. Our wisdom is incisive and unflinching. I’m honored to be your ancestor and believe disabled oracles like us will light the way to the future. Don’t let the bastards drive you down. I love you all. (Alice Wong, Social media post, 15th November 2025).

Instead of a more formal book review, we wanted to hunker down to discuss two key themes in the book that we can carry forward in this line of unflinching oracles: embracing big cat vibes in our lives and activism and the reclaiming/reclawing (yes, there will be cat puns!) of anger as love.


Profile of a tiger with orange fur and black stripes, looking alert in a natural forest setting. Green foliage in the blurry background.

Cativism

Alice sets out how big cat power can be harnessed throughout the book, but what does she mean by this? In political and personal terms, it is a refusal to shrink, a refusal to soothe discomfort in others, to hold territorial clarity—and at times, to show the edge of an incisor or two. Yet, at its core, it is holding fierce self-love and self-worth at our centre. Let Alice explain:

Tiger power (and caffeine) fuels my travel through portals - it takes a lot of big cat energy to leap into unknown situations, roar against injustice, claw open new space, make stealthy moves, and swipe at all who annoy me across the multiverse. (Wong).

If one thinks of cats, this is their unapologetic vibe. And if one really isn’t a cat person, Alice stealthily co-opts the dire wolf, as shown by her tag @SFdirewolf — so dog people, you’re covered too!


A person holds a white wolf pup in a snowy forest. A large white wolf with red eyes stands nearby. Both wolves have thick fur.

Cat Life

The ‘Disability Fight Club. The Time is MEOW, Ableism won’t stand a chance’ page (and yes, Alice does cat puns too!) shows this bitey attitude that is necessary in a world that expects a ‘reasonable patient’ archetype and the relentless tone-policing and ableism we encounter in respectability politics. Doff the cap, bend the knee—cats don’t do these things!


Yet, this stance is also to counter the internal ableism that we learn from a very young age—that disabled and chronically ill people are other, smaller, pitiable, less than. We live in a society where worth is essentially derived from a productivity capitalist model: if you can’t earn, you have no value. Ableism be gone in one fierce tiger swipe.


In the Cat Life chapter, Alice sets out some very clear cat axioms. Let’s purreuse them:

Cats are loud and clear about what they like and don’t like Cats take up space unapologetically. They belong everywhere. Cats secretly strategize and conspire, fighting for what they want. Enemies beware. Cats are assholes when they want to be. Cats question authority and give side-eye to all shady things. Cats have boundaries. (Wong).

The secret is clear—fearlessly embrace your inner cat.

Love Cats

There is a softer side to the feline way of life as well; it is giving yourself permission to enjoy what you can of the good things in life, to realise that you are worth cat treats. In a world where health supremacy and a rather bizarre purity culture exists in the wellness space, that excludes the disabled body, cat culture offers an important counterbalance. As Alice reflected:

Body positivity and self-care have become toxic, hollow and commodified concepts. I have struggled with both and found the fiercest role models from the domestic felis catus to the wild Panthera tigris, on how to truly savor each day and allow yourself all the good things. (Wong).

It is also the ability to “Just say NOPE”; to “Slow the fuck down” —and yes, snacks are king!

It isn’t powering through in an indiscriminate ableist blaze though; it’s setting boundaries in the way cats do and curling up for a 22-hour nap if one needs.



A ginger cat peacefully sleeps on a light-colored surface, bathed in warm sunlight with a dark background, creating a serene mood.


Embracing the Inner Feline Rage

Yeah, I’m not concerned about my anger or how people perceive me because I just want to keep it real, just keep it real, I think keeping it real and keeping it fun is really the vibe I’m going for. (Interview with Alice Wong, Annenberg Media).

There is growing popularity in modern fiction for women embracing their rage. One can see it in V.E. Schwab’s Bury My Bones in the Midnight Soil, Kuang’s The Poppy War, The Priory of the Orange Tree by Shannon, and even in Madeline Miller’s The Song of Achilles. There’s a reason why so many Greek retellings from the female side are having a resurgence—rage.

This is indicative of a cultural movement and encapsulated perfectly by Alice Wong’s activism and writing. Yet, this isn’t anger without wisdom; it is anger as moral intelligence. It is a response to injustice, not a personal weakness. But it is also not new—we can see older fierce and wrathful cat manifestations such as Durga in Hinduism or Simhamukha in Buddhism, or Sekhmet in Egypt.



Goddess with multiple arms holding various items, adorned in ornate red attire, rides a lion against a glowing sun background, exuding strength.


Anger in the disability and chronic illness space when it is in contact with the establishment is often pathologised, and there are gendered and racialised dynamics of who is “allowed” to be angry. Seeing that we live in a hellscape of systematised patriarchy that flourishes in medicine, Alice gives us the permission to own our rage at our mistreatment. This is expressed clearly in her #disabledrage project, activism against the changes for disabled people under the authoritarian reign of Trump.

Anger as a Diagnostic and Productive Tool

I channelled my anger and frustration that I could not articulate and understand as a child into writing and research about disability experience as an adult. It was the beginning of my odyssey in disability research and activism. (Wong).

Anger is also love. In many cultures, especially South-East Asia, compassion is not always soft and fluffy; it is also wrathful and fierce. It carves out space for activism and justice, as shown in Alice’s quote above, because it points the way to where injustice is. Rage can be diagnostic because it reveals where systems and bodies are breaking.

This also moves anger away from the personal and towards forming community. Many movements and organisations began from recognising a deep sense of injustice.

One of the strengths of Year of the Tiger is that it foregrounds collaboration and community. We can see this in interviews, podcasts, and descriptions of how Alice and the disability community embraced the internet and the hashtag.

Alice: I joke about being an angry disabled Asian girl, but it is something I’m proud of. It’s formative.Ellen: A productive anger.Alice: It is. I embrace it. I think that’s something I am really thankful for - this emotion. It does provoke me. In turn, I try to provoke others.

This quote is fascinating and can be applied on a personal and organisational level. Advocacy doesn’t have to be saccharine or sweet. There are many movements that have embraced a productive anger as their motivating heartbeat, think ACT UP or Black Lives Matter.

Teeth and Tenderness

If we look back at Alice’s quote about fun, this is also important. Throughout Year of the Tiger, one can’t help but be struck by the joy of the book—it’s funny, quirky, wacky at times. There is such a range of forms it takes. Alice subverts the traditional memoir form; it is a hybrid of essays, interviews, art, photos, recipes, graphics, and tweets. There is a definite zine and scrapbook feel. It is like reading what a playful cat would write.

Anger and joy are interwoven. There is the righteous anger at ableism and more, but also humour, pleasure and connection. It is a highly readable and enjoyable book.

To conclude, it is worth remembering that the big cat imagery isn’t just decorative, Year of the Tiger is about ferocity, confidence, passion and self-possession all written in Wong’s unapologetic prose - and highly recommended from us.



White tiger resting in sunlight, showcasing black stripes. The background is a blurred mix of greenery and reddish hues, creating a serene mood.


Note: Our spring book in the Pedantic Zebra Book Club is Unwell Women: A Journey Through Medicine and Myth in a Man-Made World by Elinor Cleghorn—an absolute cracker of a book. You can join us on Fable (you don’t need to read the full book to join, we also chat, and you can follow snippets)!


Further Info

Alice’s Go Fund Me to continue her legacy

Alice’s Celebration of Life, March 25th, Toolkit


We are mainly on Substack for articles - audio is available there too!


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