This is for real.
It's been an eventful week, to put it mildly. (Next time, I will take more, and better, pictures.)
I had this sneaking suspicion, when I got talked into this trip, that it was about a lot more than a simple trip to DC, or even more than a simple lesson in meeting senators and congressmen. And now, I know that I was right.
Let's start with tomorrow (well, technically today; it was before midnight when I started writing this). Monday was all about teaching us how this part of the political process works, how we conduct ourselves with our representatives, what it means when (as is likely) we don't actually meet them, but rather meet their staff, what our agenda was and why we were asking for these things, and so on. That, in and of itself, was enlightening. I also got a better idea about the organizations I was dealing with here; they had some very sensible advice for us. They told us, for example, that it's understandable if we have a lot of emotion wrapped up in the issues we were discussing, whether it be anger or grief or whatever, but it was best to save that (especially the anger) for the rally on Thursday. Our meetings were supposed to be about educating them, and/or finding common ground, and not venting. This was, after all, an opportunity to work with them and help them understand the issues from our perspective.
That was the part where I went, wow, they seem to have their shit together.
So after groups from all fifty states met with as many members of Congress as possible over the last two days, we're doing this rally tomorrow. They've arranged for press coverage, and it should be a powerful moment. The power isn't going to come from the number of people in the march; I think that we're expecting maybe a couple of thousand folks. The powerful moment will come when we lay approximately 8300 pairs of shoes on the steps of the Capitol. They stand for the 8300 people who die every day of HIV-related complications.
Now, originally I was booked on a 3:15 departure tomorrow afternoon. The rally is scheduled to run from 11:00 to 2:00. So that would mean that I would miss the climax. But then I learned that Bush is actually going to be home, and meeting with the ambassador to Liberia. He usually likes to not be home when there's a big protest, but this time he can't get away with that, and furthermore he'll be with an African ambassador. Now, how fucking sweet is that? When I heard that, I knew I had to stay. So I called US Airways and paid $100 to change my ticket to a later flight, repeating over and over in my head they gave me $100 to eat this week, and I was going to be eating this week anyway, so it's kind of like they paid for it. And it's kinda true. True enough, anyway. And hey, this way I get to meet thyesc when it's all over, as an added bonus, instead of either missing out or rushing.
So I'm participating in this event tomorrow. Well, today really.
The rally, and this whole week, is more or less the coming out party for the Campaign to End AIDS (C2EA). When I first started hearing about these folks a couple of weeks ago, I heard the we can end AIDS now chant, and while it was compellingly presented, I was still thinking it was pie-in-the-sky fantasy material. Sure, it sounds nice to say end AIDS now rah rah rah; but how feasible is it really, with all the obstacles to it, political and financial and scientific and otherwise? But the more time I spend with these people, the more I see that they have a set of ideas that is clear, feasible (or at least possible), and concrete. They've really put some thought into this. They've got a plan that is at once extremely detailed and simple to reduce into easily digested sound bites, which is no small feat.
So the big thing they want to do in October (which is, scarily enough, just four months away) is the idea of caravans across the country. There will be nine in all. Each one will end up in DC on October 8, and the sum of them touch every major media market in the US. There will be a few categories of participants: some will join the caravan when it reaches their city and take it all the way to DC, some will join and go for a day or two or five or however many days they can spare, some will be involved in providing and arranging support (food, lodging, that kind of thing), and some will simply go straight to DC for the five days of events scheduled there. When a caravan hits a city, there will be media events scheduled, bringing attention to C2EA and its mission, sharing of experiences and strategies and stories and such.
Now, again, when I first heard about this, I thought it sounded like a potentially awesome thing, but also extremely difficult to pull off, and when I realized that October is only four months away, I thought, no fucking way are they going to manage this! there isn't enough time to put this together.
But then I started sitting in on their planning sessions, and learning more about what they've already put together, and my mind slowly started to change. They know how to lobby. They know how to work the media. They know how to organize themselves. They really know how to inspire and motivate. They have already done so many things right. They have a long term plan that could really work, that has more substance than mere sunshine blown up everyone's asses. And even more impressively, they really believe in the whole thing. The people leading the charge really do honestly believe in it, sometimes with bright eyed innocence and sometimes with raw determination, but their belief is deeply rooted and a manifestation of a core part of the structure of the reality in which they live.
I am finding that their attitude is contagious.
As I was sitting in a chapel near Capitol Hill on Tuesday, taking a break between visits with my representatives, I was listening to the woman who is really fueling this whole thing speak, feeling this odd pull that was at once scary and exciting, completely illogical and yet seductive. I kept sensing that I was supposed to be getting involved with the caravans, like really involved. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I am exactly what they are looking for. I am HIV+. I am out about it. I am articulate. I am comfortable talking about my condition to strangers. I am on disability and unemployed, so my schedule is open. And honestly, the thing that really made it click was that I want this to succeed on a very deep level. That desire is bigger than any ego gratification I might get out of it (on the one hand) or fear of making a fool of myself (on the other hand). The only problem I could think about concerned my meds: since the refills are all out of sync with each other, it's just about impossible to have enough of all of them for a two week stretch.
So I mentioned all these competing feelings I was having to the other half of the RI contingent (there are only two of us), and she smiled and said something along the lines of you get to a point where you have to ask yourself: why are you still fighting this?
She was right.
So I went to the brainstorming session Tuesday night, and I presented my concern, but even as I presented it I realized that I could probably work something out with my pharmacy. They've been wonderful in the past, and if I tell them what I'm doing I am sure that they can fill a medication early and put in the paperwork a few days later. And even if they can't, the folks in charge are aware that this could be a problem for everyone participating, especially the folks coming from the West Coast, and they can start working out solutions with doctors and pharmacies along the way. They are already working on lining up backup medical care for the participants, and it's not unusual for HIV clinics to have a small stash of emergency samples of medication.
To cut to the chase: I am going to join the caravan in my area, tentatively named the Nor'easter, and ride it all the way to DC. I started off just wanting to go along for the ride and offer to do press releases and interviews, but it's turning into a lot more than that. I've already (with the other RI participant) told our representatives about the caravans, and the aides for Kennedy and Langevin have already said that they will want to at least endorse it, if not participate in the Providence media event; they've given us the direct numbers for the respective coordinators for when we have details worked out. One of the stickiest logistical issues to work out is that the folks in the caravans who ride all the way to DC are going to have to get home somehow, and a one way ticket is normally ridiculously expensive. So I am going to talk to one of my former supervisors at US Airways. She told me once about a department that basically looked for opportunities to cater to groups and sponsor events, so there's a possibility of corporate sponsorship. It doesn't really cost an airline anything to give away a free ticket, especially if it's on a flight where that seat was going to go empty anyway. And as some folks have mentioned, some airlines (particularly American) don't have the best reputation for being sensitive to HIV issues, and they might be very willing to take advantage of an opportunity to help out because, hey, it could make for some good press. I'm ready to make all the calls myself, and given my background with the airline industry I think I'm a good choice for that task.
And so on. The ideas just keep coming.
I kept hearing the phrase logistical nightmare during the brainstorming session, and I'm starting to see how repeating that phrase is just a way of keeping success out of reach, in the realm of impossibility. Sure, there are some mighty big obstacles, but our energy is better spent identifying them so we can figure out how to get past them. I really am sold on this thing.
And periodically, I step back and take a deep breath and realize just how big of a deal this is, and it's... well, exciting and terrifying and invigorating and dizzying and empowering all at once. One of the things really striking me right now is that we really are more powerful than we give ourselves credit for. I think that sums it up pretty nicely, and as it's way too late for me to be up (considering I've got a very long day ahead of me when I wake up later) I'll leave it at that for now. I am sure there will be lots more to say later.