Celebrating Disability Culture at Georgetown

Georgetown Community 

October 2023
Lego Bricks in a variety of colors and shapes 

A ramp made of 10,000 Lego Bricks, in a variety of colors, shapes, and styles, was built in Red Square by the Georgetown community at DCC’s Ramping Up Access Event. The ramp is a metaphor for access: collective, creative, and vibrant. 

Watch a video about the Making of the Lego Ramp.

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Georgetown Community

October 2023
Mixed media

In the lead up to the exhibition of this piece at the DC Public Library and the Georgetown University Library, Georgetown University’s Disability Cultural Center hosted a variety of Disability Culture Maker Spaces and Art Labs for anyone to contribute to this collaborative art installation. Members of the community created pieces answering the question, “What does disability joy mean to you?”

Art by Isabella Liu, Denny Okudinani, Saadwi Balaji, Marlena Chertock, DeVonte Capers, TL Waddell, Ricky II, Amy Kenny, Ioana Zanchi, Sarah Craig, Sabina Patawaran, Sara Pasowicz, Madeleine Goldfarb, A. Z., Jackie Liu, Xuan Zhang, Lily Robertson, Chloe Smith, Bella A., Cynthia Rodriguez, Shanice A., T. L., Isabella Trewhella, Jade S., MA GR, Sophia Lindsay, Dana F., August Rose, P. J., Robin B., H. L., Deborah McKinney, Jillian Bante, Kate K., Jenny Cavallero, Jessica Wallach, Katherine Radt, Arlie H., Evan Bianchi, Ariella Raissakirana Wijayanti, Natalie Gustin, Shawn P., A. B., Jen White Johnson, E. S., Ave Rieger, and many who wished to remain anonymous. Special thanks to Art Enables for their contributions.
 

Graysen Viar

2025
oil on canvas

In order to redefine my relationship with the parts of my body that have caused my medical issues, I deliberately built this piece to be visually striking, vibrant, and beautiful. Putting care into building connective tissue as an ornamental piece helped me to deconstruct the anger and grief that I often associate it with. I hope with this piece, that others will choose to learn more and reflect about connective tissue, and other often invisible diseases.
 

Evan Bianchi
2024
Exposed wood and mixed media

This project—a forearm crutch hand-carved out of a branch from the Whitehaven Parkway woods in DC where I spent much of my childhood—came to be because I had recently undergone the process of transitioning to using mobility aids and coming to terms with the myriad of emotions that such usage entails. I saw creating a personalized mobility aid by hand as a process of disability grief, which has been ever-present over the three years since I acquired a chronic illness. A big part of my grief pertains to my ability to connect with nature, which has always been a large part of my life and essential to my ability to manage my mental health. The loss of my ability to easily access nature without having to prepare or check in with my body’s capacities as a result of my chronic illness felt like not only a loss of something I loved but also a loss of a part of my identity. As such, I wanted to create something that is a productive embodiment of this grief—a functional mobility aid made of materials from the woods I grew up in and that would enable my return to those woods. 
A driving force for the project was my desire to undertake the physical process. The carving process included identifying a suitable fallen branch while on a hike with my dogs, sawing the branch to size using my existing forearm crutch as a guide, stripping the initial layer of bark, whittling the wood down to the right thickness, sanding until smooth, burning the design of a sunflower (the symbol of invisible disabilities) and the names of people who had supported me through this process into the wood, staining and sealing the entire crutch, and finally crafting an adjustable leather band to act as the forearm cuff. I was steadfast from the beginning that I wanted to complete all of the carving by hand (not utilizing power tools) because I identified taking the time to sit with the project and feeling as though I was shaping the wood with my own hands as an essential component of the grieving process. In this way, the process was far more important to me than the product. While I was working, I chose not to listen to music. I wanted to sit with the project and whatever emotions—both positive and negative—that arose during the process. In this way, the project was an experience of mindfulness: moving between imagining each slice of wood I peeled off as a part of my life I have lost due to my disability to imagining that with each slice I was making myself lighter and moving closer to the experience of weightlessness I feel when I have just come out of a flare-up and can walk easily without a mobility aid—an experience that is only possible due to my use of aids during my flares. As such, this project and the process of its creation serve as embodiments of disability grief and my personal journey with disability and mobility aids.

 

This piece is a call to see ourselves in the reflection of mother earth, and the divinity within us is mother earth. Our “selves” are not just who we are but the divine acting through us. The same force that created the ocean, skies, and mountains is us. The portrait looks up to the three bodies stretching into the past, present future, just as we reflect on our lives. Her hair is the memory of earth and rivers that run through our world. This piece was one of the first sparks in the artist’s journey of spiritual expansion and creative renaissance. 

Erique Perez (They/Them)

March 2023
Inkjet digital print of acrylic on canvas 
 

Nebulous blends of various colors used to create the image of a solar system, including abstract representations of the Sun, Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus. 
 
A pink crescent moon in front of a night sky with a river of yellow, orange, red, and pink flowing from the moon. 
 

Marissa Nissley (She/Her) 

March 2023
Poem 

Dedicated to a young girl in my hometown losing her vision.
 

Photos from the “ACDC: Art Celebrating Disability Culture,” event hosted by the university’s Disability Cultural Initiative (DCI) and sponsored by the Division of Student Affairs and Office of the President. Artworks featured during the event were created by 15 students and included songs, spoken word performances, sculpture, animation, and the digital art found in this Library exhibition.

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Angelene Leija (She/Her)

March 2023 
Inkjet on Paper, created in Procreate 
 

Briana Valle (they/she) 

March 2023
Inkjet on paper, Created in Canva and Adobe Illustrator
 

aveces quiero gritarle a todos lo 
que me hiciste 
para que así sepan que no soy 
bruta y reservado por mis moños 
son por años que pase contigo. 
solamente tu y yo por tres años 
me alejaste de mis amigos y familia 
reservada solamente para ti. para
tus manos queue siempre carraban 
mi cuello hasta que ponía roja.
reservada para poder saber en 
donde estaba a cada rato gritos
amenazas y lágrimas.
pero a ellos no les importa. Les
importa si me rio a sus chistes si 
les tengo tiempo y podido enfocar
en un sujetó en tanto tiempo.

you are a part of me I have tried
hiding over the years, embarrassed 
to let my first queer relationship 
be a wreck. I have not spoken 
about u or what u did to me to 
others since it happened. 

but u do not deserve that. u do not 
deserve the peace I haven't had in 
years. 

sometimes I wish I could yell to 
everyone the things u did to me. so 
they can know who am I. 
 

Kelvin Kafu Doe (He/Him)
March 2023

Mixed Media (watch the animation)

For as long as I could remember, people would ask me, "why are you moving around so much?" I would then immediately look down and realize my legs fiercely moved up and down as my hands shook side to side. I could do that endlessly without noticing, but somehow hearing someone ask about it broke the spell. After hearing that question enough, I began to internalize it. This animation is my answer to that question. It is a celebration of disability culture because part of recognizing my disability was coming to terms with my ever-present need for movement.
This animation is titled "You Move With Everything, Everything Moves With You." Using JavaScript and some math, I was able to sync up all the movements in the animation with one another. This art piece is my visual representation of a sensation I feel constantly.
I am not a nature person, allergies prevent that, but whenever I'm out in nature I can't help but marvel at the way the trees sway their bodies from side to side, or the way the leaves struggle against their stems until they fall, or the way the grass sweeps with the wind. In all these things, I see the desire to move. I move, because I am tuned into a deeper desire for movement that exists within the universe. I understand myself as joining in a dance that reveals it in the depths of my soul. In the same way a call to worship makes me want to sing or seeing my friends dance makes me want to dance along, seeing the motion of the world is my invitation to join in.
Upon reflection, I shouldn't question the way I am so much. Sometimes, I just have to do what my body and mind are telling me. Instead of asking myself why I move so much, maybe next time, I should ask, “why not move more.”
Description: An Animated video cycling between seasons. A roughly human looking figure moves left to right as it stands in-between a field of what alternates between moving grass and billowing piles of snow. In the background, there is a gradient whose colors cycle between different shades of green, blue, purple, and red as each season changes. The sun moves around in a circle surrounded by a Halo that grows and shrinks in a cycle. Every movement is synchronized to the same speed. In between every seasonal cycle, the background becomes gray, snow begins to fall, and the animation draws a single large, blue snowflake from the center, before starting the cycle once again.

Read Kelvin Doe's speech given at the ACDC event on March 15, 2023.

Dane Tedder (he/him) 

March 2023
Inkjet on paper, created in Procreate 

A group of hands reaches upward from the bottom part of the frame against a dark purple background. From the hands emanates a glowing, fluid heart made from a variety of colors.