I ONCE WAS LOST, BUT NOW I'M FOUND; WAS BLIND BUT NOW I SEE!
The procedure on my eyes was a complete success. I did manage a few postings after I said I would be away, but soon it got so bad I couldn't really see the screen well enough to write anything, couldn't see the text on my tablet at all, and even was unable to see print well enough on television to have any idea what it was saying. So, I had a YAG capsulotomy. Basically, the doctor blasted the film from the back of my lenses with a laser. This meant shooting at the places the film was attached to my lenses. Once detached they fell away, and I could see--better than I remember ever seeing. Text on the screen suddenly became black, I could read books, the television was not lost in the mist—the world got high definition again.
It was a complete success and I am very happy. The whole procedure took about 15 minutes. Very little pain. Looking at the screen now and remembering what it used to look like makes me realize I should have had it done a year or more ago. But let this be a caution to any of you who have recently had or are contemplating having cataract surgery: Cataract surgery HAS to be done, but they don't tell you that you will face an 8 to 10 percent chance of a film forming on the back of your lenses which will intensify until it seems like you are looking at the world through a dense fog. It creeps up on you. Have it done sooner rather than later. It doesn't hurt, it's quick, and at least in my part of the world, free.
LONE WOLF AMONGST THE PACK?
I would like to begin my Return (to reference Sunset Boulevard, but No, I do NOT do Gloria Swanson impressions!) by saying some more about the question of whether we have any moral imperative to feel allegiance to the LGBT community, and if we do, what the nature of that allegiance might be. I am writing this especially for one person who took some of my words on my GAY TELEVISION sub-site in a way I did not mean at all. I take full responsibility for misleading him. I will say in my own defence that if I had been able to read better when I wrote it, I would have reread it carefully before posting it, realized it could easily be misread, and have changed it to more accurately reflect what I actually meant, and not hurt his feelings. My reaction, when I realized what had happened, was to remove the offending part of that posting, and to post a reason why I seem obsessed by the issue—this posting, somewhat altered, is offered here again, and is part of what I want to say about the whole subject. Before we get to that, let me ask about the allegiance to the LGBT community issue in general.
It will not surprise you that I freely admit to having a dark view of human nature. I believe that the human race progresses socially in 3 possible ways: 1) by the consequences of acts of one individual acting alone, 2) action by groups of individuals acting together to combat forces that especially impact them in particular, or 3) all of humanity somehow together to move forward—as Carl Jung might have put it, impelled by the collective unconscious. I am very suspect of ways 1 and 3—they are not horses I would bet money on. The real focus of possibility lies with 2-- groups especially affected by a suite of circumstances that will not be ameliorated by waiting for a saviour to arise, or waiting for all people to be moved by any kind of group-soul moving them to change. I believe that before anyone can suggest what any course of action people affected by the ill-will of the world at large can do about it, people within that group must acknowledge that the group does indeed exist and that they are a part of it.
It is a sad reality that human beings must have their in-groups and must have their out-groups to oppress. This manifests itself, bluntly, in the majority oppressing the minority, that majority creating all sorts of ugly stereotyping and lies to buttress their claims to have the right to committing that oppression. Waiting for a deus ex machina to change the situation is not realistic. A look at some recent examples of groups that finally woke up and realized that they were going to have to free themselves, and that action was going to require conflict and confrontation are Jews, blacks, and LGBTs. I believe that the advances in civil rights and changes in society at large are not due to a hero arriving on the scene or a mystical movement in the group-mind, but the recognition by the oppressed group in question that they were by themselves in the struggle and it was time to act—as a group--to fix the problem. The ironic part of all this is that the recognition of group identity is occasioned by the very oppression that must be thrown off. I remind you of the biblical book of Exodus. The truth was the Hebrews were perfectly happy to live as slaves, life wasn't so bad, 400 years went by in a flash. Then “A new king arose who did not know Joseph,” a new pharaoh who increased their oppression to the point they could take it no longer. They became aware of their group identity (that's what the Plagues narratives is all about), and began acting in concert, and we know the rest of the story. You can find a similar plot line for most liberation movements. For us, that new pharaoh was AIDS. For most of us who have a foot in the old world of routine and unquestioned homophobia we didn't think it could or would change. Most of us just accepted the idea that we were perverted, could be hassled by the cops for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and victimized by sexual violence (and here I am talking about me—personal experience--not some “they”). I admit that a few important advances were made before—Stonewall, the Toronto Bath-house Raids of 1981, etc., but it wasn't until AIDS came on the scene and we were dying in the thousands, that the real recognition came that we were all together on the Titanic. That is, seemingly everyone else except me, seemed to realize that..
Some times I am almost overwhelmed by the guilt I feel because I remained HIV-negative while so many around me fell. It certainly was not because I was the poster boy for safe sex. Given my behaviour I should have become positive early on. I was lucky to an extent I did not deserve, and for which I find myself apologizing still. In the early 80's I was in graduate school; I had heard of AIDS and that the catcher was more at risk than the pitcher, but that was about all I knew. I screwed around, but as a lone wolf rather than a part of any pack. My time was occupied with school; I was on a full scholarship and didn't risk fucking up. I was oblivious to what was happening in the gay community. I was off to Morocco and then to Asia to teach. At least in my earlier years teaching, HIV wasn't seen to be much of a problem, and it didn't make the news wherever I was. I was not sexually active in Korea, but I was in Indonesia, Malaysia, Morocco and especially Thailand. By the time I was spending a lot of time in Thailand the HIV rate had gotten alarming. Still I payed no attention.
You have to understand that before I returned to Canada in 1994 I had never touched a condom in my life. It went completely against my whole understanding of what sex was all about. At my doctor's insistence I got tested immediately upon my return. A tense week of waiting, but Negative. My unearned luck was holding. My dedication to barebacking was not based on the difference in feeling between flesh and flesh versus flesh against latex. To me the question was always that as human beings we are condemned to alienation from each other because our centres of consciousness are separate and that alienation can never be overcome—it is the price we pay for individuality. Bees, ants, and some herd animals seem to have overcome this alienation to some extent, but at a price humanity would not pay. In sex we come as close as possible to unity. On the most fundamental level we are not successful, but we do try. For me the essence of sex always centred on holding or being held, bodies pressing against each other, one person inside the other, indeed for a few moments literally glued together. For the pitcher this is a sensation; to the catcher it is a realization—the closeness, the cries from deep within you, the sweat, the surrender, the coming together (pun intended). I found transcendence in touch. For me this would be just about gone were a condom in play.
When I began working with People With Aids I finally woke up. Virtually everyone there was HIV-positive. My boss and my editor knew I was negative, but otherwise I kept it secret. Occasionally I was asked, but asking was officially forbidden and only happened when someone wondered if I wanted to have access to some service, such as massage, that was only open to HIV-positive people. I always managed to talk around it without answering. I was, in short, ashamed of being negative. I had no right to be negative. I was surrounded by positive men and a few women positive because of HIV-positive boyfriends. Antiretrovirals were on the distant horizon. For the people I was with, HIV was a death sentence, and the main issue was how long that sentence could be delayed. My job was to edit the news letter and write books to inform HIV-positive people what lay in store for them—the various diseases and the sequence in which they usually came, and what could be done to stay as healthy as possible to delay them. I was mandated to write for someone with an 11th grade education, a speaker of English as a second language, and with as much humour and lightness of touch as I possibly could. This meant a lot of research on my part, a lot of learning, and the rapid realization of what those around me were going through, and how important it was to do all you could and to remain optimistic—in the face of tragedy. I met so many brave and worthy men and women, I knew I should be amongst them, but so unfairly to them, I had been spared while they were doomed. I have no right to be here, they do.
So, you wonder why I am so obsessed? Because I lost my chance to help out much. Until 1994 I stood on the sidelines and watched. You can't imagine how ashamed that makes me feel. When I come on strong now, I am really accusing myself. I am imploring other people to avoid my fate here. I have no right to preach morality to anybody, but for me it was not so much a matter of cowardice but of ignorance. For me there was no excuse for either one.
I have been consciously aware of being part of 5 groups—groups that have been of significance in my life: 1) survivor of extreme child abuse, 2) male, 3) Canadian, 4) gay, and 5) Catholic. The first three I cannot change (Well, number 2 and 3 I COULD change, I guess, but never would!), and number 5 I DID change when I wised up and realized what a corrosive effect it was having on me and how much it conflicted with number 4. I post to a private child abuse survivor site headquartered outside North America which is not open to outsiders. I have alluded to my membership in this group before, but have said little about it and never will here. All survivors know that it is impossible to make outsiders understand, no matter how well meaning they may be, and it becomes an exercise in pain and frustration even to try. Anyway, my real point here is that I think of myself as a lone wolf, but it was only when I embraced my being a part of those groups that I could act in the world with self confidence in any meaningful way.
What form that action might take is the final question, and the one that has caused the misunderstanding, specifically about allegiance to the LGBT community. I believe the form that allegiance takes will depend on when you are, where you are, what you have already done, and being realistic, what you can hope to do. I told you above about what I did—and DIDN'T do. That was in days when more dramatic action was called for by many people. Now, at least in Canada and most of western Europe the situation has changed. I'll stick to Canada. The laws have changed to full equality. Oh, occasionally it will be recognized that a law or practice discriminates against LGBTs—these days especially T's-- but the law or practice is changed as soon as possible. Does that mean that oppression of LGBTs is gone? Not by any means. But it does mean sensitivity by LGBTs to other parts of the LGBT alphabet that do not concern you directly—like my sensitivity to the trans world because of my father. I believe that I have the obligation to verbally come to the defence of trans people if I hear any anti-trans talk so the transphobe realizes his bigotry is not appreciated by other people, trans or not. Would I be vocal if I heard such hate speech on a bus late on a Saturday night by a bunch of drunk fans on the way home from a hockey game? Not likely; I'm not suicidal. But the knowledge that something needs to be said is still within me, and I can act on it at a more favourable time. For me personally my sphere of action has moved on from demonstrations . Yes, I've been in a few: anti-VN War, pro-gay, and—this may surprise some of you—feminist rallies (Feminist friends accompanied me to gay rights rallies and I went with them to feminist rallies). Now I confine myself to talking and writing, but my heart is still in there.
Many men have done their part, and have passed the torch on to others in terms of active participation in the struggle. It has been noticed by many that the AIDS activists of decades past are mostly missing from the struggle in the States for equal marriage. They have done their part, and deserve a rest so they can actually live out their lives with some degree of peace. They have earned our profound thanks—not criticism for not doing yet more. With this group I include the many men who were in the middle of it all in the 80's and 90's, and had friends and lovers torn away from their lives. (And yes, I mean you, my Philadelphia friend.) Those people may no longer be in a position to work actively for an end of oppression, but they carry the spirit of equality and LGBT liberation within them. That can well be enough to alert newer generations that there is still much to do
