12/02/2022
Today is World AIDS Day.
I remember, as a Gen X teenager hearing about “gay cancer”. I was a dancer and so many of my friends in the theater world were hush hush when talking about it because of the way the virus stigmatized.
When I went to college to study massage in Arizona, we were told not to work on anyone with AIDS because of risk of transmission even though the means of transmission was so clear.
I went rogue, and with one of my instructors we began donating hours of massage to people living with HIV/AIDS in Phoenix.
People in need were directed to us by bartenders working in the clubs. They had their fingers on the pulse of the community and they knew who needed our work.
When I moved to Idaho in 1988, I began volunteering with The Idaho AIDS Project. I was listed as a massage therapist willing to work on people living wirh HIV/AIDS. They kept me busy doing house calls.
After a few months I was asked to work in a more involved role. Idaho AIDS created a national hotline and I trained to be able to answer phone calls about this virus and steer people to services available.
Suddenly I became a volunteer coordinator for the organization. I juggled staffing the hotline as well as compiling a list of volunteers willing to serve the local population of people living with HIV/AIDS. I connected those in need with those willing to help.
We had lists of hair stylists and handi-people, dentists, home healthcare workers, lawyers and veterinarians and more that weren’t afraid of the stigma attached to our clients and were so willing to provide for their needs.
We had a food shelf. We had a clothes closet. We had a needle exchange program. We had funds to cover emergencies and funerals if money was needed.
We also provided educational outreach that gave science based information about the virus and how to best protect yourself from it. I remember running our booth at Boise’s Pride Festival, handing out condoms when I was obviously very pregnant with my son and being teased about how I must not of been practicing safer s*x at the time.
I was in bed asleep that night when I received a phone call from one of our board members. Someone had broken into our office, ransacked it and then lit it on fire. My husband and I stood in the parking lot with staff and volunteers watching the fire department put out the flames and waiting for our chance to salvage any sensitive documentation that we could find.
The arsonists were never found.
When I moved to Oregon I got involved with Cascade AIDS as an outreach volunteer, doing much of the same work that I did with Idaho AIDS Project.
When The Name’s Project came to the Pacific Northwest, I went to work for them, finding funding for the project by taking panels of the AIDS quilt to businesses, churches, schools and street fairs to raise awareness and donations.
When we set up The Quilt, I worked as a docent, leading groups through the display, giving voice to the panels that memorialized so many lives lost to AIDS. I did this while I carried my little boy in my backpack carrier. He was raised as an activist.
I moved to Minnesota with my son when my marriage fell apart. As a newly single parent, my volunteer hours were replaced with all it takes to raise a child alone. Thanks to my nephew, I was able to take a week to volunteer as a massage therapist for the AIDS Ride.
As part of the massage crew, I helped riders warm up with assisted stretch in the early morning hours. As soon as they were on the road, I jumped in the bus that took us to the evening’s camp sight where I awaited the riders arrival. Once they had showered, they came to our tent for much needed and appreciated bodywork.
The experience was that of selflessness and humbleness. I will never forget it.
Because of my work, I met many people who are no longer with us. I held the hands of many while they took their last breath. For some, I was there instead of their family memebers, who ostracized those with AIDS. For others, I became part of their family.
My photos of my time with The Names Project/AIDS Memorial Quilt are buried in a box somewhere, but here are a couple photos from the Ride.
