Today has been a rather cerebral day for me. I am feeling emotions that have laid long dormant.
Last
night, before going to bed, I was texting with a new found friend.
Recently, he tested positive for HIV. I am not sure why, but this
single fact instantly established a camaraderie among us. You see, I am
also HIV positive, although I was first diagnosed nearly three years
ago.
During
our conversation, he made note of a feeling that I have long
suppressed. As an HIV positive person (who, coincidentally, ended a
long-term relationship in July), I am disturbingly afraid of not finding
love, compassion and understanding. Moreover, I am paralyzed by the
notion of never finding a place I truly belong. My friend noted that,
due in large part to this very fear, he had the hope that it wouldn’t
last long. That soon his pain would be over and HIV would take him to his grave. I’d like to think that I hope for something more, yet, it seems that each day
provides further evidence against it.
I
awoke this morning to discover an article in a local weekly paper. The
article, mostly focusing on the notion of judgement prior to
investigation, related the story of a scooter rider being shunned and
made fun of by a Harley rider. While I do not profess to know this type
of judgement, having never ridden either a scooter nor a Harley, I can
understand the emotion the writer was attempting to convey.
Then,
as if a knee jerk reaction, the article changed. The author began to
turn his hurt and bruised ego on the gay community. Words such as
“pussy”, “faggot”, “fag hag”, and “sodomite” began spewing across my
screen. I became outraged and highly confused. How could an individual
write from such a place of pain, only to quickly turn that pain into
the very type of judgement and dismissal of others that spawned the emotion
initially?
Just
as many of my fellow LGBT community members and allies, I expressed my
outrage and confusion through Facebook posts and an e-mail to the
editor. And yet, while I do not condone the act, I must admit I
understand it.
This
understanding came to me while contemplating my new friends' expressions
just last night. It is certainly irresponsible for the article’s
author to use the newspaper as his personal sounding board for such
hatred. It is even more insufferable to realize that the paper’s editors
don’t seem to comprehend the impact of publishing those words. Yet, I
struggle with the notion that we, as an LGBT community, ask our straight
brethren to understand, tolerate and even accept us when we
are just as divisive and judgmental. When we divide, subdivide and segregate our own community.
HIV
negative gay men seem to have the same effect on HIV positive gay men (or, at least newly positive gay men)
as this author had on our community at large. The moniker that this
type of insensitive and subtextual bullying ought not exist could as
easily be said about the gay perpetuated stigma attached to
being HIV positive by those who are not.
Being
HIV positive in today’s gay culture is likened to being the only gay
guy in high school. As much as I try to keep the matter private and a
non-issue, the more it shines a light on the ugly truths of our
community.
How
can this disease cause so much hatred and fear among others?
Particularly among those who have more closer experiences with the
devastation that it has caused. True, HIV is no longer an immediate
death sentence, so why must it now be an immediate banishment from
life? Am I not worthy of love and compassion? Must I be relegated
to the wasteland of self-loathing and isolation?
If
these questions seem like deja vu, then I am hopeful. Hopeful that,
once again, we can find understanding and acceptance within our own
community. Hopeful that these feelings of unworthiness and fear will
soon pass rather than be an end to life, my own or others. Even more, I am hopeful that the sense of belonging and
acceptance we each found in our LGBT community might, once again, compel
others to stop the hate and ignorance.
Hope is a powerful thing and while I am uncertain of the possible misplacement of hope, I am certain of one thing. We can not begin to find tolerance among others if we first do not have it among ourselves. | 