Showing posts with label AIDS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AIDS. Show all posts

January 23, 2013

When You Mean Well, but Not Well Enough


Over winter break, my family and I watched the film Philadelphia, which stars Tom Hanks as a lawyer who gets fired by his law firm due to his homosexuality and worsening case of AIDS (and Denzel Washington - go watch it!).

“Why does Tom Hanks have AIDS?” asked my mum.

My brother responded, “We don’t know. The film doesn’t tell us. Probably sexual activity.”

As if to scold Andy Beckett, the protagonist of Philadelphia, or perhaps to derive some kind of universal moral lesson for me and my brother, my dad said, “That’s why we should accept gays, but not promote it,” said my dad.

This isn’t the first time my parents have used this curious term of “promotion.” In my senior year of high school, I revived the LGBT club named the Spectrum Club, which had fallen into inactivity for a couple years. When I told my parents that I was involved in such activities, they immediately told me to stop. Despite my arguing and protests, we left off there with my parents saying that it didn’t have to be me who does the “promotion.” Since then, they have become a bit more liberal in their view points, thanks to the legalization of gay marriage in New York which helped legitimize the gay rights movement in everyone’s recent memory. Therefore, it was rather disheartening to hear my parents use this same language again a couple years later.

My friend O sometimes talks about irritations caused by her parents, but often digresses and defends them by saying, “they mean well.” To borrow her phrase, my parents mean well. They are not excessively ignorant, and they understand that there are oppressed groups in society. In fact, I’d regard my parents as very smart and enlightened people about many things who did a bloody good job raising me. Anyone can mean well, but you also have to think of how to make your thoughts and actions reflect meaning well.

What my parents mean when they say “promote” is not entirely clear. So how much should we actually “promote homosexuality?” How much is enough? From the legal perspective, there isn’t really a reason to exclude LGBT couples from the institution of marriage given that marriage is a contract in which two individuals enter. I believe that any two consenting adults should be able to get married, and I am willing to express this viewpoint through blog posts like this one and perhaps more importantly, through my votes. From the social perspective, LGBT individuals are people just like anybody else. We should be their friends and in some cases, we may need to stand as their allies. If I’m any good at this subtext thing though, I think my parents still hold the misconception that being gay necessarily implies irresponsible sexual behaviour, and that homosexuality is a thing that exists, but ought to cease existing rather than continue. But that isn’t possible because even though no one fully understands the origin of being LGBT, we will certainly stick around for a while. The way to pursue better sexual health among the LGBT community isn’t to condemn the sexual cultures that exist now and in the past, but to allow more to come out in the open so that we may continue to do whatever it is we like to do romantically without endangering our health.

To take a page from my dad’s book - here’s the moralizing lesson I’m going to take from this story and bestow upon anyone reading this: when it comes to the way you view an issue like LGBT politics, even if you do not want to be the loudest proponent, you still have a responsibility to re-evaluate the stereotypes you hold so that at the least, you do not perpetuate ideas like the conflation of homosexuality with HIV/AIDS. 

January 19, 2011

The Best Teacher


So it's Tuesday night and I just got out of my first class of The Laramie Project, which in case you don’t know, is the Matthew Shepard story. We’ll be performing in April if you’d like to see the show. We’ve got an awesome cast and if you’d like to keep up with the show blog check it out here.

As you can imagine, it’s gonna be an extremely intense experience. I’m exhilarated and terrified at the same time. But I’m not here to talk to y’all about Laramie. I’d really like to reflect soon on my experience going back home (ya know, the whole Hilary + my Jehovah’s Witness family), but I think I need a little bit more time and perspective before I write about it. So my first blog post of the year is gonna dig a bit deeper into my past.

It’s important for you to know that I went to a charter middle and high school for low-income kids, all of who will be the first generation in their family to go to college. It’s super intensive and amazing. I went to school early and stayed late everyday, for an extra class and extracurriculars, which meant I was at school for at least ten and a half hours a day. But during robotics season (betcha didn’t know I was team president!), we were building at school late into the night. Through all of this, the teachers were right there with us, devoting their lives and time so that we could compete in regional and national competitions. It was so incredibly bad-ass.

My first interest in robotics came early, but my dedication began after I moved out of my parents’ houses after a rough patch. So it was a tough time in high school and I was trying to spend as much time away from home life. I like to think that we all have like that one AMAZING teacher that was our light and our guidance and our friend and tough in the best ways. That teacher for me came through robotics.

He actually came out to me last June, which I was totally shocked/thrilled about. But a couple of nights ago told me that he has AIDS.

Now, if you were around at Duke in 2007, you’ll know that Chris Purcell didn’t fuck around with World AIDS Day. But honoring those lost was as real as it got for me. In our generation, we are fortunate to have access to more education and information and safety and health.

But a couple of nights ago, shit got real. This was a teacher who would fuck with us by offering extra credit on tests for spelling his complicated last name correctly, then write it wrong on the board that day. This was a teacher that would stay with us at school building a robot past midnight, who would take so many of us on our first plane rides, who showed us how we could make high school so much more than classes, who made it possible for me to learn how to write grants and how to be proud to be the first in my family to go to college. He was my rock in such a dark period of my life.

I feel honored that he could open himself up to me and say to me, well, no, I’m not doing too well right now. I am so grateful to know his story, or parts of it at least, because there is something horrible that hurts the ones we love the most.

Working on The Laramie Project is going to be really difficult for me. First, because I have very little experience with theatre. Secondly because I have such a deep, emotional dedication to the gay world. But mostly because of this teacher, the hate crimes he shared with me, the honesty he bared, and the path he helped me get on.

I am going to dedicate all of my energies in honor of everything that he has done for me, and in hope that we will overcome.

As always, so so so so so much love.

August 12, 2010

The Gay Disease

I always thought of AIDS as a “gay disease.” Whenever I went to a site for LGBT youth, I would see a prominent sexual health section with information about HIV/AIDS. This was my first sexual education, other than questions my parents answered (one being “What is oral sex?”) I recieved decent, though heteronormative, sexual education in middle school. I learned about STDs through pictures in my high school’s health class. I watched a memorable video about abstinence in religion class. (Its message against cohabitation and reasonable defense of waiting till marriage has stuck with me, it's line that "condom's are a joke" did not.) If I heard about AIDS in school sex education, it was presented the same way as LGBT issues. As in: We know that some of yall are LGBT or might have experience with HIV/AIDS, but we don’t have time to cover everything. You’re on your own.

The secrecy surrounding HIV/AIDS determined me to find out more. I tried to volunteer at the San Antonio AIDS Foundation (SAAF) in middle school. By then I was aware of my LGBT identity and had connected HIV/AIDS to it. I was too young. In the middle of high school, I donated a fraction of my birthday money to SAAF. By senior year I had participated in a variety of service projects to fill my school requirement, none of which had any effect on me. I contacted the SAAF again. After a brisk training (watching dated anti-sexual harassment and fire safety videos) I was a volunteer. The rest of the story is what college admission essays are made of.

I volunteered at the SAAF for only seven hours, including training. I popped into the SAAF less than an hour a week for a semester. I realized that service isn’t all making copies and playing with dogs at the pound. I couldn’t stomach this kind of service for very long. My main task was serving food to people on the verge of death. Most either spoke in inanities accompanied by inappropriate expression or looked permanently terrified.

One man was lucid enough to be my friend. My Catholic school uniform put him at ease. I was an innocent receptacle of his recycled stories. I reminded him of his youth: playing baseball, his first girlfriend. This man, like many of the people at SAAF, was black. This wouldn’t be significant except that since I lived on the Northside of San Antonio and went to Catholic school, seeing a black person was an unusual event. The only time I saw more than a couple of black people at once was at the SAAF. I stopped volunteering for a couple weeks. When I returned, I didn’t see my wheel-chair bound friend in the dining hall. His obituary, along with many others, was in a glass case. Growing up, I was sheltered from death. Other than my great-grandparents and opa, I didn’t personally know dead people. As a kid, I thought that the death of these ancient relatives was inevitable, a non-event. This man seemed healthy. His death seemed sudden, though I knew it was years in the making.

I have other memories of the SAAF. Wheeling a man to the outside porch so he could smoke. I put the wrong side of the cigarette in his mouth. I ashed and lit for him too because his hands didn’t work. He was good-natured and gracious. We had a functional, though mundane, conversation. I fed another man who kept repeating that he liked black guys. I told him I liked them too, sheepishly trying to hide my discomfort. Another man had the stoic face and tattoos of a contraband leader. The nurse ordered him in Spanish to open wide so I could spoon food into his mouth. I went once to a patient's room. It was dark except for a minature TV perched on a tall shelf. Her bed was lined with pictures of family, friends, and what I assumed was the healthy patient. My hands shook as I spooned the food. This woman had one expression (terror in the face of death) and four words (the food is good.) I took it for granted that her and I could never be friends, could never have a conversation.

All these experiences led me to believe that AIDS wasn’t what you saw in Rent. It killed people, yes, but it also took away their brains and marked their bodies. It forced them to tell old stories and watch TV all day. It made them the antithesis of sexy. Due to advances in medication, people newly infected can escape this fate with enough money or public assistance. Yet the regimen is exacting, the stigma still acute.

I admitted in my previous post that I am no sexual health saint. I do what I can to stay safe and keep up to date on my facts. I won’t engage in certain sexual behaviors. I try to keep my partner count low. In line with my Catholic education, I err on the side of prudishness and serial monogamy.

As most people know, when I came to Duke I became trained as an HIV counselor. (Don’t worry; I don’t remember what people tell me in my sessions.) I was terrified at first of giving positive results. I thought the person would be angry with me. I have since realized that I am still the innocent girl in the Catholic school uniform. I didn’t give anyone the disease. I still listen to stories, but now I can help people avoid life as a hospice patient.

Some of my fellow counselors are black women. Some of them, like me, made it clear that their identity was why they got involved with Know Your Status. I’m not going to naively say that HIV/AIDS will bring together the LGBT and black communities, but it is an opportunity.
A couple days ago I watched a movie called The New Age of HIV/AIDS, which focused on North Carolina. I learned a lot about the spread of HIV/AIDS on college campuses and in rural areas. I was ecstatic to learn that research is being done at Duke that might lead to a vaccine within 15 years.

I care about HIV/AIDS because I’m gay. While HIV/AIDS is not a gay disease it is woven deep inside of the gay community. I believe no one should be alienated from the sexual health information they need. Condoms, lube or dental damns (I plan on stocking up), information about the risk of certain behaviors or the disease itself are available on campus. An LGBT sexual health related event is in the works for this coming year. I don’t know what it’s like to be personally affected by the disease. But I have seen HIV/AIDS kill people, and I have seen people narrowly escape it.

For reasons I don't understand, sex is endowed with negative externalities. These externalities are impossible for me to forget (even at the most inappropriate times.)

December 7, 2009

Anonymous Posts
(11.30.09–12.6.09)

Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks or hate speech. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions :)

You totally stepped it up this week with the anonymous posts, Readers. Good work all around!

But don't forget that we also have a responsibility to respond to our anonymous contributors! See you in the comments :)

#1:
"They Don't Understand"

They don't understand the injustice they cause
Nor do they mind passing unequal laws.
They don't understand the sadness they create
Nor do they see that what they're spreading is hate.
They don't understand that their vote matters
Nor do they care about the lives it shatters.
They don't understand the lies they tell
Nor do they realize we're not going to hell.
They don't understand the reason we fight
Nor do they know of the anger they incite.
O God I pray
That you show them the way
Because I am gay
And it's okay.

[Ed. Note: Oh hai, ORIGINAL POEM. Best. Readership. Ever.]

#2:
Absolutely amazing video by one senator during the vote in the NY Senate.


[Ed. Note: This video definitely made its way around the interwebs since this anonymous poster sent this in to us and we've already posted it before, but it's totally worth putting up again (see: "duh"). Let's all share about how many times we said "yes!" the first [eight] times we watched this. Tell her, Artie:


#3:
As I'm getting older, and closer to graduation and the real world, I've been thinking a lot about the possibility of having a family in a few years time. This raises conflicting emotions in me - as a gay male, obviously I won't be able to have children of my own with my partner, the child will only be biologically related to one of the fathers. There is, of course adoption - there're far too many kids out there without homes and families right now. I'm not really sure how I feel about all this, I'm not sure I'd make a good father, or that I'd be able to provide the right environment for a kid growing up.

What I want to know is, how do all of you in the openly lgbt community feel about this issue?

[Ed. Note: This is most definitely a topic that we've all thought about, right? Right. Let's throw a Comment Party for this one.]

#4:
I stumbled upon this website today (literally, stumbleupon.com = AMAZING). Anyways, the picture shows a fantastic campaign that promotes AIDS awareness and prevention in a super creative way. This was done in Rio Grande do Sul in Brazil, and they totally have the right idea.

Check it out [here].

translation: "Take your condom and help in the fight against AIDS" - as more people take condoms, AIDS begins to disappear. Genius? Absolutely.

[Ed. Note: Great find! It is difficult to inspire us desensitized Millennials, and it is always interesting to see the amazing [by necessity, almost] campaigns that Good organizations come up with.]

December 1, 2009

On Campus For World AIDS Day


Free screening of RENT
Griffith Theater, 8:00 pm

(Sponsored by Duke's Know Your Status, Freewater Presentations, Blue Devils United, Center for LGBT Life, and DELISH)

Free HIV Testing
Bryan Center, Meeting Room B
10:00am - 6:00pm

Sponsored by Know Your Status. Stop by, get tested, and receive a free t-shirt. It only takes 20 minutes!

Visit the Facebook event page here.

Mixed Blood

Screenings, tests, questionnaires, we’ve all been subject to the selecting process in some way, shape, or form; at times we find ourselves included on the right side of the metaphoric fence, and at others we are left out in the cold with the rest of the garbage. Rejection is never a positive experience (one would think), but we assume that we were not chosen because of our lacking merit, and in a justly manner, no less. For it must be true, obviously, that the standards and reasoning behind these selections were valid and without bias, right?

The world has never been short of its bigoted, excluding parties, and today is no different.

For most individuals who pop into Duke’s American Red Cross Blood Drive Donation Reception Area (sounds so much more official than just saying Von Canon, doesn’t it?), question 34 of the screening questionnaire is just another negligent hurdle to jump before you can claim your cookie and juice box. For others, however, including yours truly, it is a moral crossroads. Answer “no” and you walk free, most likely to the end, nonetheless affected save for that bruise on your arm from the volunteer continuously missing your vein (c’mon, seriously). But answer “yes”, and you find yourself forever banned, your name on a list of individuals deemed too risky to give.

The question in question (hehe, puns) is as follows: “From 1977 to the present, have you had sexual contact with another male, even once?” Now for me, the most insulting aspect of this question is not that it dares to equate my sexual activity unfit for the donor room, but the “even once” additive. As if we’re cheating members of Weight Watchers packing the Oreo filling between two cookies and calling it one serving. Oh, hell, it was just once, it won’t count, right? Quite frankly, those two small words insult the integrity and intelligence of the person in question (hehe, more puns) in what is already a discriminate and unfair topic to discuss.

Recently, The Advocate posted an article in their October issue concerning the battle of the lifelong ban of gay men by the FDA, detailing the origin of the ban, its supporters, its critics, and the measures taken. Basically, the ban came about amidst the HIV/AIDS scare and was taken as an extreme preventative measure that has, clearly, outstayed its welcome. Nowhere does the questionnaire screen heterosexual couples for their promiscuity, nor does it offer as severe a punishment for other “questionable” behaviors. In fact, many of the organizations that hold these blood drives (the American Red Cross included) are advocating that the FDA rethink its policy. As of yet, the administration is unyielding, yet Obama’s newest appointments promise at least a potential screening, giving the questionnaire a taste of its own medicine.

Again I cop out, Dear Reader, and leave the discussion up to you, but here are some facts to consider as you fill the comments box *cough cough*:

· Unprotected anal intercourse presents the highest risk due to the propensity for the rectal tissue to tear, permitting an access for infected blood and semen
· Other behavioral risk factors result in a 12-month deferral from donating versus the lifelong ban of MSM contact, a revision many are considering for #34—though I don’t see HOW they expect anyone to wait a year
· 15% of HIV infection is through anal intercourse, while 60% is through vaginal, according to the World Health Organization

So there you have it: now have at it!