Disabled Women Make History (and Art) 2025 In-Person Artists

Click on the picture of the artwork to learn more about the piece and its artist in their own words.

Printed on a deep red paper, 6 lines of alternating text emphasize the last line of a poem and credits the author in a warm, dark, and not black ink. “I was sent into this life to love loudly. Saeed Jones.” Starting with a thick, rounded serif font “I” is contrasted with a tall, narrow font for an all capitalized “WAS” then resumes the rounded serif in lowercase “sent.” The next line is all sans serif text in capitals, “INTO THIS,” emphasis on the latter by using wider spacing. “Life” is a bold, large, and dark word to start the next line with full capitalization. It showcases a blocky serif font. The lowercase rounded serif is used again for “to.” The fourth line uses the most vertical space of all. The one word, “LOVE,” is centered in a bold, non serifed text. Sandwiched between a pattern of stars and circles, the ornaments start with an outlined star, a bold circle, a lone star, and a circle with even dots of non printed areas in the ring shape. The next line builds visual continuity by using the rounded serif type of the first line for “LOUDLY.” The final line shows tall, san serif text to identify the author. The last name is in a bolder typeface and wider than the first.

Affirmation of Connection by Elisha Ramey

This is the last line of a poem I was privileged to hear from the author’s own mouth. In a society where the conversations that aren’t had determine so many aspects of individuals’ lives negatively, the clear choice of being oneself for good was so intoxicating to me. The nuances of poetry, the verbal presentation, and my everyday existence with hearing loss challenged my use of communication. I handset gorgeous antique wood type, created a custom color ink, and registered multiple prints by instinct on an antique steel drum press while participating in a letterpress workshop at the Toledo Museum of Art.

A charcoal drawing made from layered paper. Depicted is a white rabbit surrounded by medications and pill bottles, and through holes punched in the paper, the rabbit can be seen infected with fungus and covered in mushrooms.

But You Don't Look Sick by Chelsea Lackey

Like a rabbit in a test lab, when one has an invisible or rare chronic illness, doctors begin by throwing medications and treatments at it, hoping one might work. The patient becomes the test rabbit, subject to all the side effects and bad reactions to medications that occur. After many failed trials the conclusion that the doctors come to is that the patient’s condition must be all in their head. No answers, no questions, no proof, if the medical professional can’t immediately measure or treat the illness then it must be imagined. Suddenly, all that they have ever seen in the patient is anxiety, stress, mental disorders, a scared rabbit sitting in a cold room. My layered paper piece ‘But You Don’t Look Sick’ captures the experiences of medical gaslighting and the feeling of being a test subject when dealing with a rare or unknown illness. On the outside, the rabbit appears fine, though surrounded by medications and samples. In the windows into the rabbit’s true state of being, however, is the decay and sickness that is going ignored simply because it can’t be seen but through the occasional glimpse.

Paper collage: A black and white medical illustration of a body with the ribs open and some organs and veins colored have illustrated full color snakes woven between ribs and other cavities. Full color illustrations of frogs and cacti are behind the figure. The figure and frogs appear to be rising up out of a gaping mouth of a pale yellow creature with flames lining the mouth. The piece is on a black background with a yellow border.

Claw Your Way Out by Rachel Pointer

Mixed media collage depicting my experience as being late diagnosed autistic and with hypermobile Ehlers Danlos. The body that is grotesque and dissected and violated is rising out of the flaming maw of a demon and towards life. No hands to claw their own way out, they look outward, choosing beauty and life. Through that choice, they bring harmony throughout their body and mind, so that even if they never fully escape that torment, they'll still find a way to flourish.
It's not that I've overcome my disabilities, or that my joy comes in spite of them. My disabilities are just as much a part of who I am as anything else, they impact and shape my personality and my life as much as anything else. I don't choose joy in spite of them, I choose joy because of them.

Three oil paintings hung vertically, each showing a hand contortion in dramatic primary and complementary colors. The definition of each piece sharpens as you move up. On the bottom is "Gang Sign" in reds, violets, and yellows. The fingers are splayed outward, while the thumb is drawn down towards the forearm. In the middle is "Wreath". The colors are blue, yellow, and green. The fingers are each gently wrapped over the other. The topmost painting is "Temple". The fingers of both hands, in yellows, oranges and violets, are pressed together until they bend upward at a 90 degree angle from the main part of the hand.

EDS: Party Tricks (Triptych - Temple, Wreath, Gang Sign) by Veronica Usher Davenport

Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS) is a genetic condition where collagen is ""printed"" incorrectly. This can make many of the joints hyper-extensive, or even slip out of place completely. You may have known other kids growing up that could do super flexible party tricks: the gymnast who could bend over backwards, the cheerleader who could drop into the splits in an instant, or the weird kid who could contort their joints (such as the artist of this work) and freak their teachers out. Chances are that they all had one of the 13 different versions of EDS.

The paintings in the EDS: Party Tricks triptych focuses on the flexibility of the hands. Because of the stretchy nature of the joints, the fingers and wrist can overextend creating otherworldly formations that have their own names in the EDS community.
~ ""Gang Sign"": (bottom) The fingers are splayed outward, while the thumb is drawn down towards the forearm.
~ ""Wreath"": (middle) The fingers are each gently wrapped over the other.
~ ""Temple"": (top) The fingers of both hands are pressed together until they bend upward at a 90 degree angle from the main part of the hand.

For more information about Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and its related comorbidities, please visit the Ehlers-Danlos Society (https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/).

A hyper-detailed hand embroidery of various objects on a forest green background with a white, one inch grid pattern. In the center is a life-size pair of beige underwear with lace elastic waist band, with several holes worn through in the band and crotch. Draped across the underwear is a vibrant, red, elbow length glove. To the left of the underwear, lays a cigarette butt with frayed paper. A red ballpoint pen and white lighter lay on the bottom portion of the underwear.

hard to let go by Juniper Wolfenbarger

I created “hard to let go” during a period of intense grief. With the help of my doctors and disabled friends, I discovered I had Autism and ADHD after years of debilitating over-compensation to meet neurotypical expectations. This discovery, combined with my previously diagnosed PTSD and depression, Covid isolation, housing instability, and the loss of a parent, left me without a sense of security.
I clung to anything comforting, even if it was harmful. Due to sentimental attachment, I found it impossible to discard damaged or ill-fitting clothing. Even painful memories and experiences provided a familiar anchor that kept me grounded.
Using the long-form medium of hand embroidery allows me to meditate on a feeling or image. I use bright, sometimes clashing colors to communicate a sense of unease and vibrancy associated with snapshots of emotional memories.
As a genderqueer disabled person, I often feel these parts of myself invisibilized, and simultaneously, scrutinized. I am comforted by my ability to adapt and find acceptance through my chosen family in a sea of rejection and indifference. I think that by seeing “ugly” or forgotten things as precious, I can see beauty in the parts of myself I used to hide."

A 3D printed figure, scanned from the artist, lays down on a surface - the figure is laying down on her stomach with her hands under her chin and her feet in the air. Separate from the 3D printed figure are a series of handmade blankets that can be moved to cover the figure. The blankets have different designs built into them to represent different aspects of the artist's experience with disability.

Heavy by Hope Hooper

Heavy is a mixed media sculpture which includes a 3D printed figure - scanned from the artist - and handmade blankets. The figure is painted pink and covered in flocking, meant to represent the artist's desire to seem soft and joyful as a means of being approachable. The work is meant to be interactive, as the blankets fall or shift on the figure, the audience is invited to participate to replace the blankets.
This work is meant to spur conversations about the need for caregivers and how those around people with disabilities can choose to participate in acts of caregiving, or not participate. These acts may be, or at least seem, small in nature, but can have a huge impact on people with disabilities. There is also an impact on the viewer/helper, just as caregivers are impacted by the work they do to help.

The artwork contains animals, people, flowers, trees and other forms cut with scissors from flattened Orange fruit peels. Eyes are punched with sewing needles, pens or pins.

I cut things in orange peels by Elizabeth M. Meadows

I have more physical and mental health conditions than I prefer to disclose. Suffice it to say, I feel broken, defeated and overwhelmed constantly.

However, the one exception to my dark mood is my art. When my mobility became an issue I switched to smaller sculptures and jewelry. When I suffered a traumatic brain injury last year I switched to what I had on hand to make my art.

I would like to display and perform the process of creating my sculptural work in orange peels.

acrylic and synthetic lace on cardboard. Crocheted black roses sit on top of a teal crocheted background and white lace. One flower in the right lower corner has some pink and a piece of blue glass representing the artist.

I'm Not OK But I Will Be by Teresa Siwajek

I have dealt with mental health issues my whole life. As I was growing up, people would always tell me to "act right" or if I did things differently (or like everyone else) things would go better. As I got older i understood that for whatever reason I was different and even though things may not go as planned, even when things went bad I would eventually be ok.

A Picasso-style lady with an asymmetric bright pink bob, green skin and glasses is centered on a geometric multicolored background. Created with acrylics and markers.

Joyful Menace by Haze B

Part of a series of self portraits, I wanted to express the frustration of feeling fragile and fragmented. At the point of painting this piece my immune system and nervous system were both under more stress than they could handle. I was fighting off multiple respiratory infections and learning I most definitely had some sort of autoimmune issue. My life was quickly changing but I was desperate to hold on to the joy and fun and lead a life full of love rather than pain and frustration and disappointment. In the years since I've been relearning to live such a life, regardless of inflammation, chronic illness and pain, and mobility changes. Learning to love myself as whole, not just parts of me.

A digitally glitched and manipulated self portrait features the artist, a white, middle aged femme with dark hair, from their shoulders up looking toward the viewer with their eyes and facial features obscured by digital manipulation. The artist is disrupted by and recedes behind digital glitches which take the form of multi-colored lines and pixels, some of which are collaged over with thin sparkling, iridescent, and silver strips of tape that shift and move with light. It is difficult to make sense of what might be in the original photo and there are a range of textures both in the photo, through the impact of glitching, and collaging over the glitches.

Malfunctioning: July 1, 2021 7:30 AM by Brandi Lewis

Malfunctioning: July 1, 2021 7:30 AM examines the unwell body and the ways we care for ourselves when our unruly bodies do not fit within medical or social structures. I seek to make my experiences of illness visible after a long history of not being believed, taken seriously, and blamed for my un/wellness. Before I conceived of it as an artistic practice, I used to photograph myself during bouts of illness because I was afraid that I would have to provide evidence of my illness to some imagined other. My Malfunctioning (2024-Ongoing) series examines over a documented decade of this practice. In the series, I manipulate an archive of intimate moments in pain to disrupt the notion of a normative body and highlight my neurotic impulse to perform disability as a chronically ill person. While compiling these photos, a narrative and history emerged in this anxious practice, one where I prioritized legibility during moments of privacy and pain to justify my need for recovery. This archive's scope, duration, and translation illustrate the impact of pressures on disabled bodies to conform to normative, capital-driven structures and how disabled people navigate suspicion around their conditions, causing them to cater to others as a form of self-care.