Manifesto

This is a tiny collection of my values and things I stand behind and believe in.
It is incomplete and ever growing.

Active hope keeps us moving.

Not a passive wish, but a practice.
A choice to keep imagining, building, and loving
even when the world feels heavy.

The body doesn’t lie.

Our bodies hold truths that words can’t always reach. They remember, express, and release what our minds sometimes cannot. Listening to the body is an act of respect, a return to the intelligence that’s always been within us.

Disability justice teaches us

that no body is disposable.
Access is not charity — it is solidarity.
We dream of a world where everyone has what they need to thrive —
where interdependence is celebrated, not shamed.

This is a space for all of you.

Here, there’s no pressure to “keep it together.”
Here, you don’t have to hide the parts of you that are messy, angry, grieving, or uncertain.
Here, you are welcome in your fullness. I believe in questioning everything.
I believe in creating spaces where you can explore your authentic self without fear of judgment or shame. Spaces where stories are honored, where the body’s wisdom is trusted, and where healing emerges not from control but from connection.

Softness is strength.

You can be both soft and bold. Tenderness is not weakness—it’s the foundation of transformation. Vulnerability is an act of power in a world that fears it.

Accountability is care.

People have different access to resources, and accountability must reflect that truth. Real justice is not about punishment—it’s about relationship, responsibility, and repair. Dismantling systems of harm begins within us, but it doesn’t end there. We do this work both inside and outside the system, together.

Healing is collective.

Personal healing and collective liberation are intertwined.
You cannot separate one from the other. When we tend to our own bodies and stories,
we open space for others to do the same. When we resist shame and embrace authenticity,
we disrupt the systems that thrive on our disconnection.

We are unlearning together.

We are unlearning ableism, perfectionism, colonial ideas of worth, and the myth that healing is linear. We are unlearning the disconnection that capitalism breeds—the one that keeps us out of our bodies and away from each other. We are unlearning the myth of independence. We are unlearning the silence that protects oppression.
Unlearning is not comfortable — but it is freedom work.

You don’t need to be fixed.

You are not broken. The idea of “fixing” people is rooted in systems that pathologize difference. Healing is not about erasing your pain but learning to be in relationship with it. My role is not to fix you—it’s to walk beside you as you meet yourself with compassion, curiosity, and courage.

Art is political.

Art is not about perfection or performance. It’s a raw, imperfect, and embodied form of truth-telling. It’s where process matters more than product. Everyone can create; everyone can dance. Movement, sound, and expression belong to all of us—not to institutions or aesthetics that dictate what “beautiful” should look like.

The personal is political.

Every act of care, every boundary, every refusal to perform perfection is political.
Our bodies are not separate from the world; they are living archives of culture, power, and history. To be connected to your body is to reclaim what society has taken from you—the right to feel, to rest, to exist fully.

Rest is resistance.

In a world that glorifies constant doing, resting is a radical act. Rest defies colonial rhythms of extraction. It rejects the demand to produce, to perform, to push beyond your limits.
To rest is to reclaim your body from systems that treat it as a resource.
It is an act of refusal — a remembering of your inherent worth.