 Editor’s
note:
For
our
special
issue
marking
the
25th
anniversary
of
AIDS,
Southern
Voice
asked
a
handful
of
local
gay
and
lesbian
leaders
for
their
thoughts
on
what
gay
life
in
Atlanta
would
be
like
if
AIDS
never
existed,
or
how
the
disease
changed
gay
Atlanta.
Organizational
affiliations
are
included
for
identification
but
do
not
imply
an
endorsement
of
the
writer’s
views. |
|
By
the
time
I
had
arrived
here
in
1992,
AIDS
had
already
left
its
indelible
stain
on
local
queer
life.
I
heard
some
hilarious
and
heart
wrenching
stories
of
brave
souls
who
roared
to
end
the
deadly
silence,
nameless
caregivers
who
nursed
others
until
they
themselves
succumbed,
and
those
artful
performers
who
inspired
with
their
music
and
fanciful
light.
Imagine
what
a
different
city
this
would
have
been
had
all
that
sound
and
fury
not
been
drained
by
the
plague.
The
most
radical
elements
of
queer
communities
in
Atlanta
were
drafted
into
the
war
on
AIDS.
Many
of
the
soldiers
we
lost
might
have
resisted
the
assimilationist
approach
that
characterizes
contemporary
gay
activism.
I
believe
they
would
have
queered
mainstream
notions
about
gender
norms,
sexuality,
and
social
justice
that
we
often
uncritically
accept
and
perpetuate.
We
also
derived
gifts
through
this
experience
borne
out
of
the
valor
it
summoned
from
within
us.
AIDS
was
a
most
compelling
incentive
that
required
us
to
work
together
across
the
dividing
lines
resulting
in
many
unprecedented
coalitions
and
relationships.
This
may
be
the
single
most
important
lesson
which
continues
to
elude
our
grasp.
Back
in
the
day
AIDS
Survival
Project’s
hallmark
seminar
was
called
“Operation
Survive.”
As
more
of
us
longterm
survivors
outlived
our
shortened
life
expectancies,
the
workshop
was
renamed
“Thrive.”
In
order
for
Atlanta’s
queer
communities
to
truly
thrive
we
have
to
do
our
utmost
to
ensure
that
all
of
us
survive.
To
settle
for
less
is
failure.
Young
black
men
who
have
sex
with
men
and
transgendered
are
still
getting
infected
and
dying
at
rates
that
should
be
unacceptable
to
all
of
us.
Young
white
MSM
and
transgendered,
contrary
to
popular
belief,
are
not
in
the
clear
either.
As
we
mourn
our
losses
and
mark
our
wins,
we
have
to
reset
our
personal
best,
to
do
even
more,
to
do
even
better.
Craig
Washington
is
a
longtime
HIV
educator
in
Atlanta.
He
currently
serves
as
volunteer
and
training
coordinator
for
Positive
Impact.
As
a
gay
man
in
my
50’s,
it
was
my
generation
that
seemed
to
be
hit
the
hardest
by
AIDS.
I
watched
as
we
buried
friends,
family
members
and
loved
ones.
We
held
Angel
parties
to
commemorate
their
passing.
I
lost
more
friends
to
AIDS
than
I
did
during
the
Vietnam
War.
I
guess
that’s
one
reason
why
we
refer
to
it
as
the
fight
against
AIDS,
a
battle
yet
to
be
won.
It
was
an
unimaginable
experience
that
many
of
us
still
live
with
today.
If
AIDS
had
not
happened,
our
community
would
most
likely
still
be
entrenched
in
its
hedonistic
lifestyle.
AIDS
forced
us
to
sober
up
and
face
reality.
With
an
unwelcome
sexual
partner
always
looming
over
our
shoulders,
our
sexual
freedom
which
was
rampant
in
the
‘70s
and
‘80s
was
hampered,
if
not
totally
eliminated.
As
gay
men
in
the
thousands
died
one
by
one
during
the
‘80s
and
‘90s,
our
community
was
forced
to
form
a
united
response
to
the
epidemic.
AIDS
made
it
necessary
for
our
community
to
advocate
for
itself,
it
taught
us
how
to
organize,
and
it
made
us
better
activists.
We
became
self
sufficient
as
the
government
and
other
groups
turned
away.
It
galvanized
us
around
one
cause
and
coalesced
our
efforts
around
a
single
mission.
An
unexpected
but
welcome
outcome
of
the
epidemic
was
a
special
bond
with
the
lesbian
community,
who
were
among
the
first
to
come
forward
with
their
generous
aid
and
loving
support.
Our
movement
for
equality
was
propelled
to
the
forefront
by
at
least
a
decade
as
gay
people
were
thrust
into
the
nation’s
psyche.
The
scientific
community
developed
advances
to
combat
the
virus
that
will
certainly
have
a
positive
impact
on
other
diseases
yet
unknown.
All
of
this
is
a
small
silver
lining
behind
a
dark
...
