Wanda Alston was my friend. She came to my parties, supported my writing, hit on my girlfriends, and encouraged all of us to participate more fully in the political process, always with a wry smile. I am really skeptical, but Wanda was always proving me wrong, going to China, hanging out with Patricia Ireland, influencing the mayor. She was part of mainstream politics and policy in way that many people couldn't or wouldn't or didn't want to be. She was our ghost in the machine. And she made a difference. She was a fierce out proud black dyke. She was one of us and she was killed in her own home. She died fighting, but she died! It is so fucking unfair and sick. I am so furious about it that I couldn't write about it and I still don't like talking about it. It clogged up my blog and my mind. This hate crime perpetuated against humanity by some asshole who stole her precious life and left a community and a partner bereft. My thoughts are so much with her closest friends and family and Stacey during this nightmare time. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.
This site, though it has a morbid name, has a well-linked tribute to Wanda. Check it out.
Rest in peace, girl. We love you and are grateful to have known you!
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