Shorter Blogs, The Gay Plague, Rent

Shorter Blogs
I realized after posting my last blog, that it was incredibly long. I am going to make a concerted effort to get to the point more quickly, I promise.

The Gay Plague

If you didn't already know, Tomorrow, December 1, is World AIDS Day. A very personal day for me. The first World AIDS Day was 1988. But this was far from the beginning of the crisis, simply a recognition of it. When HIV/AIDS was first discovered it was immediately labeled the "Gay Plague" because it was showing up only in Gay Men who were sexually active with other men. This began a stigma that is still around today. The biggest problem with calling it the Gay Plague was that it gave heterosexual folks a false belief that they were safe from it.

At the end of the blog, there is a set of stats about the disease in america today, for personal edification, warning, its scary!

I remember commemorating my first World AIDS Day, I was in 8th grade. My mother didn't know what I was going to do after school, (not that she would minded) I just didn't tell anyone. I met some friends, colleagues in my youth/health activism circle in Alamogordo. The first person I had ever known of that died of AIDS had passed away that year, and he was the center of the ceremony so to speak. I have many friends who are HIV positive now, and I love them all dearly. Luckily I have not had to experience a death of AIDS related causes since that 8th gradeyear.

I am reminded of my favourite musical (go see it int eh theatres RIGHT NOW its an amazing movie) and the term we now use for people with AIDS.

PLWA, People Living With AIDS. The line in RENT is "to people living with, living with, LIVING with, not dying from disease"

People living with AIDS

At the end of 2004, the CDC estimates that 415,193 people were living with AIDS in the USA.¹

Of these,

• 35% were white
• 43% were black
• 20% were Hispanic
• 1% were of other race/ethnicity.

Of the adults and adolescents² with AIDS, 77% were men. Of these men,

• 58% were men who had sex with men (MSM)
• 21% were injection drug users (IDU)
• 11% were exposed through heterosexual contact
• 8% were both MSM and IDU.

Of the 93,566 adult and adolescent women with AIDS,

• 64% were exposed through heterosexual contact
• 34% were exposed through injection drug use.

An estimated 3,927 children were living with AIDS at the end of 2004, of whom 97% probably acquired the infection from their mothers.

Exposure category	2004 diagnoses			Cumulative diagnoses
	Male	Female	Total	Male	Female	Total
Male-to-male sexual contact	17,691	-	17,691	441,380	-	441,380
Injection drug use	5,968	3,184	9,152	176,162	72,651	248,813
Male-to-male sexual contact and injection drug use	1,920	-	1,920	64,833	-	64,833
Heterosexual contact	5,149	7,979	13,128	59,939	99,175	159,114
Other/risk not identified	298	279	577	14,085	6,636	20,721
Total*	31,024	11,442	42,466	756,399	178,463	934,862

http://www.avert.org/media/pdfs/world_aids_day_quiz.pdf

Shorter Blogs, The Gay Plague, Rent

Shorter Blogs
I realized after posting my last blog, that it was incredibly long. I am going to make a concerted effort to get to the point more quickly, I promise.

The Gay Plague

If you didn't already know, Tomorrow, December 1, is World AIDS Day. A very personal day for me. The first World AIDS Day was 1988. But this was far from the beginning of the crisis, simply a recognition of it. When HIV/AIDS was first discovered it was immediately labeled the "Gay Plague" because it was showing up only in Gay Men who were sexually active with other men. This began a stigma that is still around today. The biggest problem with calling it the Gay Plague was that it gave heterosexual folks a false belief that they were safe from it.

At the end of the blog, there is a set of stats about the disease in america today, for personal edification, warning, its scary!

I remember commemorating my first World AIDS Day, I was in 8th grade. My mother didn't know what I was going to do after school, (not that she would minded) I just didn't tell anyone. I met some friends, colleagues in my youth/health activism circle in Alamogordo. The first person I had ever known of that died of AIDS had passed away that year, and he was the center of the ceremony so to speak. I have many friends who are HIV positive now, and I love them all dearly. Luckily I have not had to experience a death of AIDS related causes since that 8th gradeyear.

I am reminded of my favourite musical (go see it int eh theatres RIGHT NOW its an amazing movie) and the term we now use for people with AIDS.

PLWA, People Living With AIDS. The line in RENT is "to people living with, living with, LIVING with, not dying from disease"

People living with AIDS

At the end of 2004, the CDC estimates that 415,193 people were living with AIDS in the USA.¹

Of these,

• 35% were white
• 43% were black
• 20% were Hispanic
• 1% were of other race/ethnicity.

Of the adults and adolescents² with AIDS, 77% were men. Of these men,

• 58% were men who had sex with men (MSM)
• 21% were injection drug users (IDU)
• 11% were exposed through heterosexual contact
• 8% were both MSM and IDU.

Of the 93,566 adult and adolescent women with AIDS,

• 64% were exposed through heterosexual contact
• 34% were exposed through injection drug use.

An estimated 3,927 children were living with AIDS at the end of 2004, of whom 97% probably acquired the infection from their mothers.

Exposure category	2004 diagnoses			Cumulative diagnoses
	Male	Female	Total	Male	Female	Total
Male-to-male sexual contact	17,691	-	17,691	441,380	-	441,380
Injection drug use	5,968	3,184	9,152	176,162	72,651	248,813
Male-to-male sexual contact and injection drug use	1,920	-	1,920	64,833	-	64,833
Heterosexual contact	5,149	7,979	13,128	59,939	99,175	159,114
Other/risk not identified	298	279	577	14,085	6,636	20,721
Total*	31,024	11,442	42,466	756,399	178,463	934,862

http://www.avert.org/media/pdfs/world_aids_day_quiz.pdf

Grandma You're Just Too Liberal and Educated

Wow it's been a while since I wrote last. Sorry about that to the very few of you who read this regularly. A little update, I tried writing a number time about this, a very good friend of mine, Christopher Salazar, 22, Died last Sunday November 18th, at about 2 am. He was a good man, who was very politically charged, energetic, and kind. The best thing about Chris was the fact that he was truly generous, with his energy, his resources and most of all his caring. He took care of everyone before himself, and was never remiss about any of it. He will be sorely missed by myself and the many others, his friends in DC his colleagues at HRC, his family and friends here in New Mexico. Born and raised in Santa Fe, he went to American University in DC, got a job at HRC and had been there for 4 years, was anxiously awaiting an opportunity to move back to NM, hoping that the Madrid for Congress campaign might be his chance. He was a great friend, but most of all a great soul. Chris, I miss you dearly, and I will always think of you and love you. Now that you're up there, I hope you can do more good for the World, I'm confidant God has plans for you!!!

Now on to the less somber tones. I went to Alamogordo for the week of Thanksgiving. I needed the break, after the state central committee meeting in Santa Fe of the Democratic Party, and then also the Funeral I needed to get away. I would have liked it to have been just a vacation but when is a vacation ever really just that? My mother was ill when i went to Alamogordo, the doctors say they know what was wrong (it took them two weeks to figure it out) and they are confidant her treatment will be over soon and nothing serious has happened. (I try to trust the doctors with degrees but am hesitant when they say nothing serious kept my mother from being able to hold down food or water for almost a week.)

I took the movie CRASH home with me, as I have been taking it almost everywhere, and I showed it to my grandmother.

Background:

Grandma is in her late 60s, grew up on a ranch, in a ranching family. Joyce Powell, Smith was her maiden name. Good times I have with my grandma, always! My grandmother grew up racist as is humanly possible, sexist beyond belief, and incredibly homophobic (goes with the territory) married and divorced my mother's father very young, and then married my grandfather a few years later. My grandfather was Southern Baptist, the only things on the planet worse than "blacks"(insert N word here they never called them blacks) was Messcans(i guess that how you would spell what they said. The only thing worse than a mouthy woman who didn't do her duty was a damned queer who didn't know his place was a hole in the ground and a headstone. The only thing worse than non-Christian were Catholics (the devils breed of "Christianity" if you could call it Christianity.

Now its important to note my Grandmother is not this person any longer.
She is proud of her gay Chicano grandson, and is an advocate of sorts, defending me to all her friends and family endlessly. She loves her half-African American granddaughter and the two kids that very young beautiful woman has brought into the world.

She is a Democrat! Proud to be one. A Conservative Democrat she says...
Gay Marriage ought to be legal she says, because there's no one being hurt by it. Abortion, legal at all costs, and not just abortion but sex education, and birth control. Socialism will be the downfall of eastern society she says, as she calls for a government regulation of profit margins on corporations, all of them. She thinks the gov't ought to take over businesses and make money off of them, like liquor sales and cigarettes. She drives to Mescalero to purchase cigarettes, was doing that before the new tobacco taxes, she does it because they are good people who need money, Indians, and they make all natural totally safe tobacco. (I obviously have a problem with taking a full size truck 45 miles up a mountain and purchasing cigarettes she thinks are totally safe, but hey, its great!)

Grandma liked, Crash, she cried a bit, she laughed a bit, but mostly she was astonished. She looked at me and said, all these years I never realized how much racism there is in the world. And I think about the things we sued to say and do in front of you kids, and how that must have made you feel, being people of color (she inserts the words "so called" in front of people of color, she isn't sure she understands the terms)

She recalls the year she and my mother went to Georgia to visit friends, my grandmother came home with a confederate flag. She was in love with the Southern culture, she didn't see the link to slavery, she just assumed, you know, that slavery was over and the world has moved past that. She was a little upset when my African American cousin took the flag down, and how hurt she was when she was called racist by myself and my cousin for bringing the flag back home to begin with. We all had a lot to learn, I saw rebel flag and thought slavery, she saw rebel flag and thought, big dresses, scarlet, and sweet tea.

She told me about how we were all at the family reunion of her side of the family, the summer after graduated. I had been accepted to UNM (who isn't?) and had sent in my housing arrangements and such. She was worried, as was the rest of my family, I was the only one to leave at such a young age, the first to go to college, and you know Albuquerque, wow such a crime infested city...
She was sharing her fears with a good friend of the family, Sonya, and said "I just hope he doesn't end up getting stuck in a room with one of those Gays." Well Grandma later learned I was getting a single room all to myself, and yet I was still living her fear, stuck in a room with one of those Gays. She felt so embarrassed at Sonya's response, "well Joyce, what if he does?"
Grandma had to go back to her camp trailer on the lake and cry a little bit, thinking, "when did I become a bigot?"

Grandma isn't a bigot, it's not possible my grandmother has too much love. She slips occasionally into the language and thoughts driven by anger, the term spic slipped out of her lips once over a thanksgiving dinner. She started crying with her back to me before turning around to see the look on my face which was a mimic of the look my mom gives us kids when we are in trouble, which she learned from my grandmother. She apologized, we talked about it, I've never heard her use that word again, but in fairness she had never used it before either.

Why this randomness about my Grandmother you ask? Well she said to me Saturday night after us having spent the thanksgiving holiday with family, that she was disappointed in her family.

She stayed at her sisters house late into the evening, playing dominos with our cousins and aunts and uncles and such, and they were being who they are. Kindly put, they are still rednecks. They still live in the tiny town on the lake, and they still think people of color aren’t' as good as white people. My cousin David still thinks he can spot a faggot from a mile away and beat the shit out of him in a heartbeat. I've never been hit by David, maybe I need to stand a mile away from him first...
My grandma said, "Marshall, they're racist, and sexist, and disgusting pigs. I don't like them anymore; I don't have anything in common with them. It's like we all kept growing but they are stuck in this bubble. I love them dearly, but its hard to relate to people you don't really think like."
Grandma had finally realized what it was to be me. Coming home for a holiday, and thinking "I don't belong to these people, this family. I am out of place here. I see a homeless man in need of drugs I think addiction and pain, they think useless trash."

My grandmother finally called someone out on their slurs, her sister in fact. Betty had said something about those stupid black people in New Orleans living of FEMA. My grandmother couldn’t' handle it anymore and stood up to leave, but not without saying her piece.

I'm a woman, with nothing but minorities for grandchildren. I've always been a hard worker, a kind person and an understanding friend. But I can't be kind or understanding to you any longer. You don't live in the 1950s and this isn't Little Rock Arkansas. You've got to realized who you're hurting when you say these things, yourselves! You are limiting your possibilities of knowledge, culture, happiness, and love. You are making your children into little machines of hatred and judgment. We have 8 Children who range from age 10 to 22(I’m offended that at 22 my cousin Nicole and I are STILL children, but grandparents, right) who couldn't get along and have a conversation together today, because they have nothing in common. None of them could get along with Marshall or Catana, because they just thought, he was that stupid liberal queer from Albuquerque, who calls himself Chicano, and she was just rambling on about how hard it is to get a job in Alamogordo when you're black. As if it's not a racist town.
Now you all have a chance to grow up, and into the world, live like the rest of us, happy, and caring, kind, loving, and passionate about something. Or you can all be hermits of the old fashioned bigotry and hatred world you miss so much, but if you choose that, well hell, you're not much good to me anymore.

The only response to all of this was simple:

Joyce, That Marshall has just made you too Liberal, and you think you're educated. You've forgotten the real education you got growing up, right and wrong, good and bad, God fearing behaviors. Joyce, let it go, and remember what Daddy Fred taught you...

Ha Ha Ha, well Grandma, damn if I’m not happy to hear it! You're just too liberal!!!

(Now when will you finally move to the left on the immigration and marijuana issues? For God's sakes!!!)

The Streets of Heaven Are Too Crowded

“The Streets of Heaven are Too Crowded With Angels Today…”

I am watching the fourth season of the West Wing (I know I’m a few years behind, the down side to going three years without access to a television regularly) and I just finished watching the first season.  The President gave a speech about heroes, in the context of a bombing that went off at a university swim meet.  “This is a time for American Heroes and we reach for the stars…  There are 3 male swim team members dead tonight, and two more injured.  They heard the blast in the gym from their practice gym and ran into the fire to help pull people out.  They ran INTO the fire to help pull people out.  The streets in heaven are too crowded tonight with angels.  They are our teachers, and students, friends and families.  This is a time for American Heroes and we reach for the stars…”
This was an excerpt from the speech.  I’m a bit of a cry-baby as it is, but this made me start bawling outright.  This is a time for American heroes… something that brought me back to another blog I wrote a while back about heroism but this one goes a bit further…

WE all doubt ourselves and the decisions we make but I’ve done that a lot lately and also some others…  

I have a new neighbor who came by to chat a few nights ago…  he seemed like he needed someone to talk to, for some reason, still beyond my understanding, I attract people who need someone to talk to.  I tend to be a good listener, and also, bad at saying “I can’t” so I do.  So we chatted for quite a while.  He told me things that were bothering him, the types of things that he has been dealing with emotionally for a while now.  I was immediately put off by the things he said, and tried my hardest to change the subject.  I was torn, you see because what he was telling me was partially legal matters, things of which I wanted no part should they explode, and religious things; things I couldn’t handle in my heart.  I was afraid to hear the secrets and I was afraid of how I would react.  I did what I thought was necessary for my self.  

Later he went with me to take out my trash, a very kind gesture.  We were walking back down the alley toward my apartment, and I heard some noises ahead, I looked over into the parking lot behind my apartment, the Souper Salad on central, and there were two men, about my age at the oldest, beating the shit out of a man in his mid to late 30s.  I say beating, I mean beating horribly.  The man was on the ground, not moving, and probably, likely, almost absolutely having his internal organs damaged.  I ran inside, after securely locking us into the apartment complex, and called the police.  I was on the phone until the police showed up, the call locked in at exactly 8 minutes and 50seconds.  I had to wonder why the cops hadn’t showed up a little earlier, I was worried, very worried about the guy.  A few seconds maybe a minute after I started the call, the assailants jumped in their running car and sped away.  I tried to tell the police dispatcher as much as I could about the assailants, but wasn’t able get a plate.  The police never asked me for a description of the assailants, except that which I tried to give, and was cut off in the middle of, by the dispatcher.  I was worried that my memory would lapse, I think I would be able to see the face clearly in my head right now if I summoned it.  The problem is they aren’t calling.  Actually that’s not the real problem.  The real problem is that this man was being beat up, and I was watching.  I did what I could, of course, I called the police, and I hear all the stuff you should hear, in my head.  I couldn’t put myself in the kind of danger it would be, if I were to try to break up the fight.  I am not saying I feel like I should have sone anything else, except that I do.

I have to wonder how many times a day we as individuals are put in the perfect situation to help other people, to become heroes, and to change lives.  To flood the streets of heaven with angels again.  

Now I have to say this right now, I am not advocating putting our lives in danger to save the lives of others, unnecessarily (anyone think this sounds a little like current American Foreign policy?) but I am saying there are so many problems in the world, in our society, in our state, in the great City of Albuquerque that would be minimized or solved by our willingness to be heroes.

When was the last time you drove by a car accident, one that had just happened, that didn’t have a thousand people at the scene already, one where people may have needed help?  Did you think about stopping?  Did you think about what you could have done?  And could you have helped? Sure there is no sense in standing around watching to see what happens next, but if someone is hurt could you help stop bleeding until first responders show up?  If a car is about to catch on fire can you pull a small child out of it before that happens?  

All I am saying is that America’s streets are overcrowded with angels, angels waiting to get wings.  I fully believe that we are all Angels, and have wings waiting for us.  Please, lets try to use those wings, try to earn them, try to live to our full potential.