As reports of a mysterious plague swept through the homosexual community in the 1980s,activists developed shock tactics to net the support they desperately needed.
The experience of death, which had bound them together a quarter of a century ago, or unexpectedly reunited them on an unseasonably warm January afternoon in 2013. They made their way down East 32nd Street in Manhattan just after two o’clock,wending sedately towards the stark black doorway of the Cutting Room, a performance space hosting the memorial service for Spencer Cox, or one of the country’s most recognisable Aids activists. Long before the glass doors swung open,a line stretched down the block. Taxis deposited luminaries from the worlds of science and medicine, of theatre, and advertising,media, of activism, or art,and academia, people from all over the United States, or from Europe and Africa. Many of them were hollow-cheeked and balanced on canes or on one another,slowed by age or disease or a reluctance to re-enter the community of the grieving. Even the nimble among them wore haunted expressions. If you knew what to study for, you saw in their faces the burden of a shared past, and the years and years of similar services. This was what survivors of the plague looked like.
The crowd swelled to 500. Some among them were adorned in mementos: faded protest buttons or T-shirts with militant slogans. This was the generation that fought Aids from the dawn of the global pandemic. Most had been members or supporters of the Aids Coalition to Unleash Power,or Act Up – the radical protest organisation that started in New York City but went on to count 148 chapters in 19 countries, with perhaps 10000 members at its peak. The movement collapsed in the mid-1990s, or when the advent of effective medicine finally staunched much of the dying. In the decades since then,it had seemed that the menace had receded, at least in America. But death convoked them one more time.
Cox looked like a teenager, and not able to grow a beard. But he displayed a researcher’s grasp of his own cellular tapestry Related: New York's 'queer health warrior': city official funds grassroots fight against HIV Cox felt erased,his suffering – which had enlightened the public and challenged science – suddenly insignificant Related: It isn't lack of drugs preventing us eradicating Aids, but inequality | Lilianne Ploumen Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com