A mixed race Korean and white queer person, Stacey Milbern has died. Stacey Milbern was reported to have died on her birthday, May 19, 2020. The cause of her death was not disclosed to the public.
Stacey Milbern’s death was announced to the public by MJ Britton, in an official Facebook post while penning down his tribute to Stacey.
When Jocelyn Britton was in Kindergarten, her teacher told me that they were outside during recess, and it began to storm. Everyone ran inside the school, except for Jocelyn. She noticed that her wheelchair-bound friend Stacey, was left alone in the storm, so she wheeled her into the school. Because of that one act of kindness, these girls have remained friends for 26 years.
It saddens me to learn of Stacey’s death. She was a force to be reckoned with, and accomplished so much, in so little time.
Alice Wong who is devastated on hearing the death of Stacey pen down a lengthy tribute about the all smiled lady…
Alice described Stacey powerful writer. Her Facebook posts would restore my soul and one of them moved me so much I asked Stacey to write a guest essay in 2019 about crip ancestorship. And now Stacey is one of our disabled ancestors along with Carrie Ann Lucas, Ing Wong-Ward, Ki’tay Davidson, Laura Hershey, and so many others.
I do not know a lot about spirituality or what happens when we die, but my crip queer Korean life makes me believe that our earthly bodyminds is but a fraction, and not considering our ancestors is electing only to see a glimpse of who we are. People sometimes assume ancestorship is reserved for those of biological relation, but a queered or cripped understanding of ancestorship holds that, such as in flesh, our deepest relationships are with people we choose to be connected to and honor day after day.
Ancestorship, like love, is expansive and breaks manmade boundaries cast upon it, like the nuclear family model or artificial nation state borders. My ancestors are disabled people who lived looking out of institution windows wanting so much more for themselves. It’s because of them that I know that, in reflecting on what is a “good” life, an opportunity to contribute is as important as receiving supports one needs. My ancestors are people torn apart from loves by war and displacement. It’s because of them I know the power of building home with whatever you have, wherever you are, whoever you are with. My ancestors are queers who lived in the American South. It’s because of them I understand the importance of relationships, place and living life big, even if it is dangerous. All of my ancestors know longing. Longing is often our connecting place.