/ To watch this substack via video recording (and also a fun sticker idea) - scroll to the bottom!/

Celebrating birthdays is such a cute ritual, where we gather once a year to say YAY another year around the sun! We eat cake, blow candles, make wishes and hope to do it again the next year.

LIBERATORY IMAGINATION is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

This photo above makes me emotional. I’m squished between my mom and dad as they blow out my one-year-old candle on top of a chocolate cake…as I look at it mesmerized. To this day, my parents still wear those tops! The yellow collared shirt my dad is wearing is threadbare in his closet right now.

I feel something stir in me as I look at myself 12 months awake to the world, and I’m here 36 years later writing to make sense of that same world. I feel sad that the world she should have grown up in doesn’t exist. I feel angry for the pain and heartbreak she will experience. I feel thankful that she had parents who loved and cared for her the best they could. I feel relieved for her that she will find her way towards liberation for herself and others. I feel grief. Grief that transcends myself.

I was talking to my friend Chi Nwosu about how every month I think about wanting to come to more peace around my death from a holistic ancestral place. I want to feel connected to my death in the same way I want to feel connected to my life. Chi encouraged me to do just that! Dedicate some time once a month to explore Dignified Death from the Chinese perspective. So I’m doing it, starting with this piece.

I honestly don’t know that much about how my people positioned themselves in relation to death. My parents and my grandparents are/were Christians in the post-colonial era in Hong Kong, so most of my memories of talking about death are from a Christian perspective. Since leaving the Christian world, I’m really not that interested in carrying forward that perspective. I’m more curious about all the other generations before my grandparents.

One of the reasons I’ve put it off is because doing research about China is really hard. There is so much anti communism propaganda, and it’s exhausting to weed it out. But I’m going to try! Bite size pieces. (Also if you know of trusted sources, please let me know. I am not a seasoned researcher and I know alot of you are!)

Happy Funeral: Tearless Farewell By Majorie Chiew

DEATH is a sad, grim affair but when it comes at the ripe old age of 100, apparently it’s a different story altogether. The Chinese do not mourn when an elder who has lived for almost a century passes on. Instead, a quaint funeral rite or siew song (Cantonese for "happy funeral") is held in his honour.

"It is regarded as a happy funeral because the elder is considered lucky to have lived to such an old age. No mourning or crying takes place,” says Ong Seng Huat, vice-chairman of the Federation of Malaysian Taoist Organisations.

According to Chinese custom, three years will be added to a person’s age when he dies. So an elder who was 97 would be regarded as being 100 years old.

After clicking through 30+ links around the topic, I found this random article/pdf that’s mentioned above. It goes on to spell out how Chinese folks traditionally wear white to grieve the dead, but when it comes to “happy funerals,” friends and family wear red. If you’ve been to Chinese festivals or weddings, you know red is a color of celebration and good fortune. The article ends with this note:

"When a happy funeral takes place, the elder is assumed to have died happily for he has completed his mission in life with five generations to the family line. So he can leave this world in peace, "adds Ong.

That’s Dignified Death! Death that happens after a long purposeful life that followed their elders and ancestors, who also had long and purposeful lives.

Every day I’m witnessing unholy death. Undignified death. Death that is a result of killing, stealing, torture, and man-made inhumane conditions. Genocides. Lynchings. Every. Day. It’s as if empire doesn’t care to hide its true face anymore, and is training us to be numb to it all.

How can we wrap our minds around 380,000+ babies being slaughtered in Palestine? 300,000+++ parents, grandparents, aunties, teachers, doctors, journalists, artists…

Undignified Death.

Ever since I saw the footage of Gisma Ali Omer being lynched by the RSF in Sudan, it has been added to the collection of unimaginable horror that will live with me until the day I die. The things that come across our news feed and the things that don’t.

This is a poem by Sudanese poet + activist Emtithal Mahmoud:

Undignified Death.

Isn’t it so clear?? Nothing matters but building connections, networks, infrastructure, relationships, and ecosystems for Dignified Life and Death.

When I think about how so many people of the global majority are stripped of basic dignity, it makes me want to implode from rage!!! The way people are disregarded and thrown away without a shred of humanity is vile.

The truth is that the empire air we are breathing trains us to be ok with it: That it is inevitable. We gotta step on people’s necks to get to the top to feed our family. “War” has always been and will continue. Just accept it.

TFFFFF?!?!!! No f*****g way am I using this life to accept that. I uphold my own dignity too much for that!!

**DEEP BREATHS**

Look at baby Tiffany trying to eat a juicy orange. Dignity. She deserves a life full of dignity and purpose. She deserves a gentle death after a long life of dignity and purpose. She is no different from the toddlers in Palestine… doe-eyed long lashed angels. They deserved a long life of dignity and purpose. It’s so unjust to be here fighting for something so basic.

What does Liberatory Imagination spark in me today?

I dream of dignified death afforded to everyone. Grey hair softly lay on a fluffy pillow. Handcrafted quilts of greens, blues, and pinks. The sunshine illuminates floating particles in the air like any other day. The air is like velvet. Someone is cooking a savory soup on the stove in the kitchen. Soft murmurs and bursts of laughter fill the house. Cheek still warm from a kiss.

How to Support Me!

I’m going to try something new! For those who don’t know, I run a shop called More Liberation. I’ve been trying to experiment with more ways to figure out how to make rent. So here it is! I’m going to be posting a sticker here every time I write, and you can buy it from me directly (f**k etsy fees.)

The vinyl stickers are perfect for water bottles, laptops, notebooks, and light poles.

If you want one or more, follow these directions:

* Venmo me (@tiffanywongart) $5 for each sticker - that includes shipping

* For an international address, it will be $6 for each sticker

* In the Venmo Note, include:

* Mailing info: Name + Address

* Design name: This one is “People Over Profit”

* How many + what color(s)? (Orange, Pink, Green)

Example of Venmo Note:

Tiffany Wong
1234 Oak St.
Chicago, IL

People Over Profit
1 Orange, 2 Pink

(Venmo me $15 for the 3 stickers)

The stickers will be on their way to you in 1-3 days after your venmo!

Feel free to email me [ tiffany@liberatoryimagination.com ] if you want to set up another form of payment.

LIBERATORY IMAGINATION is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Get full access to LIBERATORY IMAGINATION at tiffanywongart.substack.com/subscribe