I remember seeing the quilt
The last time it was fully assembled was in 1996. It's so large, so massive, that now, only pieces can be seen, be comprehended. I remember seeing a piece when I was in high school; I was 15, just shy of 16. My mom was involved with AFAN and made sure to take the time to see the quilt when it came by. It made the impression, I suppose, it was supposed to make. Each rectangle a life. Highly stylized, highly individual. And yes, I cried. I cried over patches of cloth made by people I didn't know for people I never knew who were dead. It was so inadequate; I think it was one of the few times I can recall being so moved, especially in the expected manner.
It's comforting to be deluded into thinking that because I no longer see or hear about AIDS all the time that progress is being made, that the stigma of being HIV positive has been overcome. I know better. It's not Mbeki's claims that washing after sex will prevent infection or anything like that.
It's remembering how people whispered at my last job about the two transsexual women who worked there, crude comments dissecting their sex lives, like only GLBT get HIV. It's every person I used to get high with, sharing needles with some, but not others, like selection will keep you safe. And it's being quietly thankful that Obama won because abstinence-only education doesn't work.
I'm young enough, old enough, to have grown up with AIDS as a real, constant threat. I want to have hope. And so I remember, this day and all days.
It's comforting to be deluded into thinking that because I no longer see or hear about AIDS all the time that progress is being made, that the stigma of being HIV positive has been overcome. I know better. It's not Mbeki's claims that washing after sex will prevent infection or anything like that.
It's remembering how people whispered at my last job about the two transsexual women who worked there, crude comments dissecting their sex lives, like only GLBT get HIV. It's every person I used to get high with, sharing needles with some, but not others, like selection will keep you safe. And it's being quietly thankful that Obama won because abstinence-only education doesn't work.
I'm young enough, old enough, to have grown up with AIDS as a real, constant threat. I want to have hope. And so I remember, this day and all days.