Common sense
would dictate that by 2007, AIDS would not be the scourge it
continues to be. How it's transmitted--and,
consequently, how not to contract it--has been
widely known by the public since the early '90s at
the latest. So why do thousands of gays become infected with
HIV every year? Partly for the same reason they did in
1983: denial.
While AIDS was
snowballing in the early '80s, the sexual freedom of
the previous decade continued to rage, with
bathhouses, back alleys, and sex clubs hopping. Queer
promiscuity paralleled advances in gay liberation and
pride. But with the rise of AIDS, suddenly gay and straight
people alike were wagging their fingers at that
hedonism. It was a bitter pill some refused to
swallow. "Many urbane, educated New Yorkers objected
to being told about any epidemic in their midst as an
act of bad taste," wrote Nathan Fain in The
Advocate's "Coping With a Crisis"
cover story. Many gay men protested any suggestion
that they should curb their encounters, feeling that
their free will was being impeded by judgmental
medical authorities.
And why should
they have listened to authorities? They clearly knew as
little as the public they were trying to save. In 1983 the
desperation of Harold Jaffe of the Centers for Disease
Control's AIDS Task Force was such that he
admitted to Fain, "We don't know of any hot
leads in research. Do you?" Yet for everything
they didn't know--what the virus was, how
it was caught, who could get it--what they did know
bears repeating today: The virus cannot be
underestimated.
Still, almost a
quarter century after that hysterical, horrifying time,
gay people continue to become infected. Science has now made
the disease manageable for most--and
increasingly invisible. While children of the
'80s and early '90s knew AIDS as lesions and
torturous death, a la Tom Hanks in
Philadelphia, kids in 2007 hardly think of AIDS at
all. They think of HIV, and thriving HIV-positive
individuals like Magic Johnson and Greg Louganis. HIV
is no longer perceived as an agonizing death sentence
but as a controllable inconvenience. The disease has been
stripped of its fearsomeness--even though it still
kills people.
Denial and apathy
aren't the disease's only friends. In crystal
methamphetamine AIDS found a soul mate. As the last century
drew to a close, science advanced, knowledge spread,
but so did crystal. Moving from gay meccas to quiet
corners of the rural heartland, the shockingly
addictive drug took hold--encouraging
"party-and-play" benders where condoms
are verboten.
Protection is
also in short supply at organized down-low parties, where
denial is as pervasive as dangerous sex. Many down-low men
are of color, facing double discrimination that shames
them into exploring their desires in dark places with
anonymous partners.
Sounds like 1983,
right? Since that groundbreaking Advocate cover,
we've gained knowledge but have found that it
doesn't necessarily translate to power.