Facing AIDS 25 Years Later

I've been wanting to share an article with you that I read a couple months back (thanks to Julius for passing it on to me) -

25 Years of AIDS by John Yewell

While I've been seeing it mentioned more so lately, I'm sure there might be a few of you out therestill that aren't aware that it's been 25 years since the outbreak of AIDS. I certaintly hadn't realized it until I saw this article.

It was interesting, too, because it crystallized a specific reason why I was running. Up until that point, since I hadn't personally known anyone directly with HIV/AIDS, I felt like I didn't have a concrete answer. Sure, I can say that I care very deeply about people's health. And I can tell you that I liked how this program seemed to channel my activist energy very well. I guess I just wanted something more. Call it Italian guilt or something, I don't know, but I was having a hard time with the best explanation to myself or anyone else being "well, I grew up with it."

Then this article came into my hands, and I thought "25 years! It's been that long?" That's when it hit me. Wow, I grew UP with it. I mean, I was on the eve of my 9th birthday when Rock Hudson died and the AIDS epidemic was officially recognized. By that point, though, we all certaintly knew about it. We just weren't sure how we would get it. It was something unknown and scary out there that could get us at anytime.

It horrified me, and even more so, it added much to the alienation I was already feeling. See, my first few years of life was, well, very "My Big Fat Italian Family." I lived in a rather abundant household with mom, my grandparents, aunts, uncles, dogs, and of course, everyone was loud and full of life. When my grandparents moved out of state just before I entered first grade, my mom and I moved out on our own and into a new community. Everything changed, and certainly nothing felt stable after that for years to come.

By the time I was in junior high, my mom was working two-, sometimes, three jobs, often leaving with my babysitter, who fortunately became very much like an older sister to me, and then eventually alone when I became old enough. As well, the fact that I chose to spend my summers with my grandparents only isolated me more. It was very hard to make friends, much less keep them. It seemed like in no time at all, I had became extracted from the world, isolated from it, and losing touch with it rapidly.

The world seemed to unravel more every day. It become more unknown and because of it, scarier. The arrival of AIDS just amplified it all. Especially during those early days, when there was a great fear of coming into contact with someone. Touching should be avoided. The fact that it was scary to shake someone's hand made me afraid to touch what anyone had touched, and thus, made me afraid of everything. It could be anywhere.

It was as if making a sustaining connection with someone, already feeling rather difficult, became impossible because of AIDS. It was a personal attack, too. AIDS had to come along specifically to make sure that I would stay removed and alienated. It was out to get me. It knew my name.

Reading the article brought me back to those days, and sure, it's all moved on from there. AIDS, my life, all of it, has made it on more stable ground, but to have grown up with it directly impacted my life and my sense of the world around me. So sure, of course, I'm running for the Uncle Ronnie's of this world, the loved ones who have felt such a loss, as well for those today struggling to stay alive, and for all the good APLA provides. But I'm also running for kids like me.

In that way, it can never get me. Not really.

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Click here for a look back at the last 25 years.