My name is Josh Kruger and I’m HIV-positive. The details of my seroconversion are irrelevant. Whether I was a needle drug user, the son of an HIV-positive mother, less than consistent with my condom use, or a medical professional exposed inadvertently to the virus, at the end of the day, I’m HIV-positive. Regardless of the reason or the background, I am living daily with the same virus other HIV-positive individuals do for many of these same reasons. 

That is perhaps the most interesting part about HIV. There is a culpability and a responsibility involved with it that does not exist with other chronic medical conditions. Have you ever asked a diabetic how he got it? Or, perhaps, asked someone with hypertension how long he had it and if he knew who gave it to him? Of course not, and it’s wrong to equate HIV with these conditions just as it’s wrong of me to act as though men should ignore my status and feel absolutely comfortable dating or having sex with me.

From a practical and medical standpoint, HIV is comparable to diabetes, and many would argue it is easier to live with HIV than diabetes – medically. Psychologically and socially, however, HIV is not on par with these and for us to lie to ourselves and our community and ignore the overarching moral and philosophical question surrounding HIV does a great disservice and impedes honest discussion.

This is most apparent in online profiles, the easiest and most accessible way to peer into the id of the modern homosexual. “Clean and want to stay that way.” This is a common and rather boringly typical statement in a profile you’d find on any app or website, one I myself thoughtlessly uttered once or twice in the past. But consider for a moment the logical implication of saying this. If being HIV-negative is clean, then conversely, as an HIV-positive man, I am dirty. And, I obviously deserve what I have because had I not acted recklessly or stupidly or taken unnecessary risk, I’d not be saddled with this tarnish and grime flowing through my bloodstream.

Obviously, I did not “want to stay that way” enough, you might think. But regardless of how fastidious about hygiene I may be, regardless of the fact that I volunteer or that I am a good man and a good neighbor or that I vote in every election or that I pay my taxes or that I’m an uncle to a lovely five-year-old boy, I am inherently unclean and therefore untouchable.

With the smug self-satisfaction of, so far, having avoided the virus, one can summarily dismiss and marginalize an entire population of human beings. And it’s happening. Yet, sometimes the negative reaction about being positive comes from the same individual barebacking “other neg guys” and who loves Gay Bingo, but he’ll delete my email without having read it because I’m one of “those.” The other. The unclean, irresponsible black sheep, the drunk uncle at Thanksgiving who has the inconvenient ability to remind people of failure.

I’m entirely too realistic and the issue too profound to think about during the search for sex or dates these days. And, what’s most intriguing is that some men will have sex with me so long as the topic isn’t even broached. Act like HIV does not exist, and the pool of sexual partners – including HIV-negative men – increases ten times over. But mention HIV the least bit in conversation or online, and you’ve become the asexual advocate.

And, no matter how physically strong or robust I am, no matter how healthy or professionally ambitious, once HIV is brought up, I’ll always be a cliché, a sick AIDS case, the walking embodiment of God’s divine judgment (I rather like that one, actually.)

But what’s perhaps most surprising about becoming HIV-positive is the amount of men who suddenly become HIV-positive the minute you are. That is, men in person and online – who for years insisted they were HIV-negative – are now quietly reaching out or implying that, perhaps, they were not as honest as they could be.

Why would they lie or conceal their status? Perhaps it’s the same reason I paused when I was asked to write this. Even now, I’m afraid. What exactly am I afraid of?

Well, I don’t date or have sex with anyone who isn’t aware of my status. Those I truly love in this world were all made aware of it the minute it happened. Legal protections are in place to ensure that I am not hurt financially or professionally because of my status. So, what is the reason I and these other men have such trepidation surrounding public affirmation, this second coming out, so to speak?

Your online profile – the one where you talk about being “clean” – might have something to do with it.

Publication of this piece earlier appeared in Josh’s own blog here and   in Philadelphia Magazine’s G Philly Blog on April 25, 2012 found here. 

As I write this, I am sitting on a train, making my way back to Toronto after spending two days at Concordia University (in Montréal), which housed the premiere (and potentially only) Beyond Failure! Symposium.

The purpose of the symposium was to provide a space to discuss the various areas within HIV which we have failed at, whether that be research, policy, activism, prevention or frontline services. The HIV and AIDS industry (and this is not exclusive to HIV) strives for success in all areas – in proposing projects, in the work done by AIDS service organizations (ASOs), in grant writing, etc. While striving for success and achievement can be viewed positively, the fixation placed on succeeding rarely provides the opportunity to reflect on challenges, shortcomings, or failures. 

Failure is uncomfortable. In evaluating failure, we are forced to examine our flaws, slip-ups, and transgressions under a microscope. Perhaps this is why many shy away from this kind of evaluation. Sometimes it’s easier to sweep our faux pas under the rug and move on. Unfortunately, in failing to address the failures, the opportunity to learn from these mistakes is lost and we run the risk of replicating our mistakes over and over again, never having learned the lesson in the first place.   

Failure is threatening and often personal as we (occasionally) tie our successes to our identities and by default, our failures have the potential to negatively impact how we understand ourselves. When failure is conceptualized so closely to our identity or sense of self, it’s no wonder it has the potential to create considerable discomfort.

Beyond being uncomfortable and depending on your role and/or relationship to the HIV movement, failure can mean the loss of funds, the end of a research project or ASO or in a far more corporeal sense, the difference between life and death.   

As Tim McCaskell so eloquently stated in his keynote address at the symposium, “AIDS is like a lens: when you look through it, all of society’s problems are magnified.” From here, Tim provided an insightful way of re-framing the concept of failure within the context of HIV by asking: is the goal to destroy or break the lens? Or is the goal to challenge the social conditions that create HIV? The point? Failure can be determined by the perspective applied to the circumstance or scenario and the often imaginary line between failure and success is both arbitrary and subjective.  

A call for abstracts for the symposium was released in fall 2012; anyone interested in submitting an abstract was asked to briefly outline what aspect of failure they would like to discuss. Abstracts were categorized into small groups (5-7 people per stream) based on common themes including prevention, risk, community, and social policy & state. For those whose abstracts were accepted there was the expectation of completing a paper in advance of the symposium that would be distributed to other members of your group. The intention was for everyone to read the papers in advance of the symposium and come prepared to address commonalities, divergences, and of course, failures. This symposium format created the space and possibility to have rich meaningful dialogue, which allowed for a more nuanced engagement with other presenters’ work.   

I submitted an abstract which used my undergraduate and graduate experiences in international HIV research as a case study to highlight failure. Within my larger paper, I discussed how in both cases (undergraduate and graduate research), I felt unprepared, untrained and naïve yet I was situated as the research “expert” regardless of my inexperience both in HIV (particularly as an undergraduate) and in Namibian culture and history (where both my research projects took place). For more details on this work, check out my previous PositiveLite.com article here.  

I was grouped within the community stream along with another young female activist from Toronto, a delightful Parisian, and a post-doc from Montréal. The groups were facilitated by the symposium’s organizing committee (our group was lucky enough to have Viviane Namaste in it), which allowed for bilingual and cultural exchanges.   

Many important and critical reflections arose from our group discussion including who is “community” and who defines it? Can we belong to a community if you don’t share the same lived experiences as other members? In identifying competing definitions of community, do we inadvertently exclude people from various communities? And how do we negotiate multiple social locations and identities in the context of community? 

I found that my own work (using anecdotal experiences as a young researcher) drew close parallels to another group member who spoke about the role of allies in the HIV movement and encouraged people who might take up the identity of “ally” (both with the context of HIV and beyond) to critically reflect on what motivated them to engage in this work. Comparing the work of researchers and allies, I found many convergent points including: that the choice to do research or join a movement often starts from a place of “good intentions”; the failure to meaningfully involve and incorporate PLWHA creates situations of tokenism; the existence of the insider/outsider dilemma (who can be a researcher and/or ally?); and that often if advantages or benefits are up for grabs, it is usually the researcher (sometimes the ally) who is on the receiving end of them.   

As someone who identified both as a researcher and as an ally (in various movements), it was uncomfortable to put my failures on the table and bring into question my role as an ally. The more and more I engage in critical work, the more I relish in the circumstances which force me into those uncomfortable corners. I believe that when we’re in these places, we have the potential to radically re-vision ourselves, the work we do, how we show up in the world and how we engage with it.

I think one of the biggest learnings that came out of the symposium (and through engaging in thought-provoking conversations with other participants) was the re-realization that becoming an ally* (and a critical, ethical researcher) is a continuous process which requires of us that we always put ourselves uncomfortably under the microscope to examine our privileges, how much space we take up (physically, intellectually, verbally, etc.), how we are oppressed and how we oppress others.

Many of the same principles of doing ally work can easily transfer to the role of researcher, particularly when the researcher isn’t working within a community they immediately/wholly identify with. In addition to the constant assessment of social location and privilege, when locating yourself as ally or researcher, it’s important to recognize that that will usually mean not taking a leadership role in either the movement or the project, taking your cues from those community members with lived experience and working collaboratively. 

Though I didn’t necessarily encounter any earth-shattering revelations at this symposium, I did very much appreciate the fact that it took place and am grateful to have been able to participate in it. Creating space to talk about our collective and individual failures is rare but frankly, shouldn’t be. So many crucial lessons can be learned through failure and if we spend our time hiding/trying to forget where we went wrong, we’ll miss the important opportunity to learn how to do things differently –and hopefully better - next time.   

* If you’re interested in reading more about becoming an ally, check out Anne Bishop’s website here .

The title quote was written by George Bernard Shaw in ‘Saint Joan’ in 1923 but if ever a saying is timeless it’s this one.

The reason I’m dragging it out of the cliché locker is because I feel I have to take issue with a couple of articles that have appeared on PositiveLite.com recently.  

They are IS HIV TRANSMISSION POSSIBLE WHEN VIRAL LOAD IN THE BLOOD IS UNDETECTABLE? from CATIE and INFECTIOUSNESS coming from Aidsmap.com

I respect the work that people in HIV organisations put in to the struggle to control the virus and I appreciate the time and effort put in by writers who do their best to provide us with information – we’d be in a sorry state without them. I also know the perils of one article writer criticising another but I genuinely mean no disrespect. These two articles are pretty representative of what you will find all over the net and therefore my problem is more with the genre than the individual articles themselves.

The CATIE article addresses a question which is in the back of everybody’s mind. It’s crucial, both for positive and negative sex partners. The title suggests that the question will be answered but unfortunately that’s anything but the case. The first paragraph sums up what viral load actually is but hardly gives hard and fast rules which we can hang our hats on. It talks about the viral load being measured in the bodily fluids of a positive person. Surely it’s not. It’s measured in the blood and only very rarely in semen, saliva etc.

“Research shows that successful HIV treatment can reduce the viral load to “undetectable” levels and this can reduce the risk of HIV transmission. However, HIV transmission may be possible when the viral load is undetectable…The risk of HIV transmission when taking antiretroviral treatment may increase if sexually transmitted infections (STIs) are present…This risk may also be higher for anal sex than for vaginal sex.”

What do they mean, ‘can’ and ‘may’? We’re thirty years into the history of the virus. We should be hearing ‘does’ and ‘will’, not bet-hedging to cover all possibilities!

The following is something we’re all very aware of but what does a statement like this actually tell us?

“Viral load tests used in Canada cannot detect HIV in the blood if there are less than 40–50 copies/ml. Therefore, an undetectable viral load means the amount of virus in the blood is too low to detect, it does not mean that there is no virus present.”

First of all, we know the testing procedures are still limited but surely we’re entitled to ask why? Secondly, what the hell are we supposed to take from such a statement? Getting everybody to undetectable status is the universal aim but is pretty pointless if we don’t know how much of the virus has escaped detection because the procedures are lacking. Of course ‘undetectable’ suggests ‘less infectious’ but thirty years into the disease and its treatment and we still don’t know whether that’s entirely true. Until other bodily fluids are routinely tested we’re no closer to an answer and even then, the virus may be hiding in bone marrow, organs and brain tissue. Testing every susceptible piece of the body may never be possible but telling us we’re undetectable but maybe still dangerous, tells us almost nothing; we deserve better.

Another pretty meaningless statement is:

“Research shows that a lower amount of virus in the blood is usually associated with a lower risk of transmitting HIV to others, and a higher viral load is associated with a higher risk.”

Duh! And by the way, what research? We probably all accept the truth of this statement but what research proves that? Far too often the words ‘Research shows…’ are thrown at us in the expectation that we’ll accept that as gospel. Very often research is so small-scale and out of date that it is barely relevant. It is wrong to assume that the reader can’t cope with references to the exact piece of research and it should be expected that research is looked at with a critical eye but very often, ‘research shows…’ will back up a multitude of assumptions.

CATIE quotes HPTN 052 research to back up theories that a lower viral load reduces risk but that research was conducted amongst tiny groups of sero-discordant heterosexual partners in Africa and Thailand. The research is ongoing but trials to measure the same risk reduction when it comes to homosexual, anal sex…well you can whistle for that one! A lot of people hang a lot of credence on HPTN 052 but for HIV+ gay people, it suggests absolutely nothing and proves even less. To be fair, the CATIE article does point this out and even questions the relevance of the research but still draws conclusions that say we can reasonably assume that the same applies to anal sex. Uhm sorry, no it doesn’t!

When a paragraph begins with:

“Successful antiretroviral treatment can lower the viral load in the blood and other bodily fluids to undetectable levels and this can reduce the risk of sexual HIV transmission...Antiretroviral treatment may be much less effective than 96% when these conditions are not met.”

You know that it means very little. We want to know that in the majority of cases, ‘it will’!

More woolly information follows:

“A higher level of HIV in the semen, vaginal fluid, and rectal fluid may increase the risk of transmission when the blood viral load is undetectable. However, it is unclear how often this happens and how significant it is in terms of HIV transmission. Research shows it may be more common if a person has an STI, but can also happen in the absence of STIs.”

There they are again: ‘may’ and ‘can’, plus a ‘research shows’ and an ‘unclear’. How exactly is this useful information? The fact is that the research in all areas of HIV is still shockingly lacking and in the meantime we have to put up with guesswork. That's not good enough in 2013. If there’s no more money for  extensive and indisputable research; or no plans are on the table; or government and scientific bodies are standing in the way; or moral objections are blocking funds it’s the responsibility of HIV sites and organisations to say so and tell their readers the truth. “We just don’t know and this is why we don’t know,” is far more acceptable than ‘cans and maybes’. At least then we know where we stand.

Doesn’t this next sentence just sum it up?

“Although there have been no studies among gay men and other MSM, there has been one report of HIV transmission occurring between two men when the HIV-positive partner had an undetectable viral load.”

Pitiful, really! Are we going to have to take to the streets again to demand efficient and relevant research which will end up saving the state millions in health care and why aren’t our large HIV organisations leading the charge?

The second article comes from aidsmap.com, which is generally regarded (just like CATIE) as a reliable and up-to-date source of information. The introduction is as follows:

“Aidsmap.com reports about 10% of gay men taking antiretroviral treatment have low levels of HIV detectable in their semen, according to new research. Whether or not this level of HIV in semen is associated with transmission is unknown.”

Now I thought this was interesting and went in search of this new research. It stemmed from a University of California study into the effect of the herpes virus on HIV transmission (read more here.) It involved 46 people, split between so-called HIV transmitters and non-transmitters and could hardly be called ‘large scale’. The Aidsmap article refers to 114 men in the study but even that’s hardly a significant research group. The point is that Aidsmap presents this as fact, based on ‘a US study’ when in fact it’s a little more complex than that and to state that 10% of men on HART have low levels of HIV in their semen seems pretty conclusive, yet it is based on a small study concentrating on the Herpes virus. Again, the statement may be true; it may be relevant and important but we need more evidence to back up global statements like that. (Editorial comment. PositiveLite.com says: even more important is whether such low levels of virus have any significance, i.e the ability to result in transmission. Is in fact the semen issue a complete red herring? We suspect yes, given the transmission history -  or lack of it -  in people with undetectable viral load in their blood.)

PositiveLite.com has quite rightly questioned the accuracy of aidsmap's references to the HPTN052 research, which is trundled out yet again yet proves practically nothing for gay men.  (Editorial comment; PositiveLite.com has since received acknowledgement from aidsmap that the aidsmap information was incorrect and that a retraction (apology?)  will be issued shortly. The moral is, as Dave says, question EVERYTHING you read.)

The article then goes on to say:

“But there have been rare case reports of HIV transmissions in the presence of an undetectable viral load”.

What rare case reports? How many? Why isn’t this being investigated right now, on a large scale, to actually establish some facts? It’s almost as if HIV organisations and sites have become so accustomed to writing generalised pieces that repeat the same old suspicions and assumptions, that it has become a new truth of its own. Why aren’t they screaming out for new research and not settling for worn out cliché responses?

It goes on:

“Untreated bacterial sexually transmitted infections (STIs) such as chlamydia and gonorrhoea may cause viral load to increase in genital fluids, even if a person is taking effective antiretroviral treatment.”

‘May’! Why don’t we know for sure?

Finally, statistics are rolled out:

“They also found that 36% of study participants with a detectable viral load were shedding HIV in semen compared to 6% of participants with an undetectable viral load…A urethral bacterial STI was diagnosed in 4% of men, but these untreated infections were not associated with the presence of HIV in semen.”

Okay, let’s assume that the study involved 114 men and not 46. 36% of 114 is 41. Is it really valid to come to wide-reaching conclusions based on the results of 41 people? The urethral bacteria numbers are even less relevant: 5 people out of 114!

The point is that readers take headlines and believe them to be true, when in fact they’re often based on such small-scale studies that they barely merit a mention. Of course, all these studies may be revealing vital information and should be reported but if one (small) study suggests a trend then it should be replicated on a wide scale across the HIV community in order to establish whether it is more than just a medical soundbite. It’s the responsibility of authors and their organisations to look at these things more critically and if necessary make readers aware of the scale and validity of studies, statistics and suppositions.

The reader also needs to question anything that’s not clear, or seems to be stated as fact when it’s not proven. The problem is that life’s just too short to take the time to do that. So the promulgation of half-truths and loaded headlines becomes the easy way out, eventually leading to mistrust and suspicion.

This article of mine may seem like an attack on two highly regarded HIV information sources; it’s not meant to be. I have used them as examples of what we see every day in articles and discussions throughout the HIV community. We really do deserve better than to be fed meaningless conclusions based on ‘maybes’ and ‘possibilities’ but it’s not the fault of the authors. News has to be reported, no matter how tenuous the facts.

Unfortunately, it looks like the HIV community has to start demanding again. Demanding proper, well, funded and large scale research at home and abroad. The World Health Organisation has a responsibility (and the finances), as does the pharmaceutical industry and every other research or research-funding facility across the globe, including the major philanthropists like Bill Gates etc.

I’m fed up with endless arguments as to whether an undetectable status is safe or not, or whether TASP, PrEP, PEP and various other acronyms are the way forward, or whether the viral load in your blood reflects the true levels in your body. Just how safe is condomless sex between sero-positive people on HART? The questions are endless but I would like answers and soon. Some people and organisations are dragging their feet in providing them. It’s a question of having the political will to do the necessary research and damn well prove things once and for all and if the ‘climate’ makes it difficult to instigate the discussion and find the evidence, then we’ll just have to scream and shout until that changes. If it doesn’t happen then confusion drives apathy and stigma grows.

When you next read an article about the latest theory concerning HIV treatment and transmission; count up the number of ‘statistics, if’s, may’s, possibly’s and researches show’ and ask yourself if you are being presented with new facts and are you learning anything new. If the answer is negative then you may well be being short-changed!

I’m fully aware that some people will be irritated by this article but then I hope they’ll respond and widen the discussion. If I’m talking out of my backside, I hope you will say so  - but you’re going to have to prove it! 

Me and my mate Kent. | Photo credit: Tux Hika, Express 

I used to shy away from physical affection. Outside of my family, things like hugging and kissing simply weren’t done.

When I first started socializing with groups of other gay men in my late teens, I was shocked when I saw them greeting each other with hugs and kisses. Kisses on the lips, even! That sort of thing is reserved for one’s partner for life, I tutted to myself.

I was very standoffish around other gay men. A handshake will do for an introduction, thank you. None of this hugging shit – you don’t know me well enough, and as for kissing? I’m a man, not a woman. That is not how men greet each other.

Social conditioning is a wonderful thing, isn’t it? A lot of men in general feel like this, and I think as gay men we often over-compensate if we’re not secure in our own masculinity. And how could we not be, with the constant messages we’re bombarded with that tell us we’re not “real” men?

My discovery of the bear community coincided with a time in my life when I was a lot more comfortable with myself, and ready to accept affection. I realized that I actually enjoyed being hugged, or being in a social situation and having an arm around a friend.

And I realized the reason I’d been rejecting this for so many years was not just because I wanted to ensure that I was seen as a real man (not like those “other gays”), but because I felt I didn’t deserve to have people behave affectionately toward me.

Physical contact is such an important part of our wellbeing, and I’m not even talking about sex here. Sometimes I don’t think we’re aware of how important it is until it’s taken away from us. Ask an HIV-positive person who was in hospital during the late 80s/90s and treated as if they were radioactive. Or even some of the older men in our community, who have said to me that sometimes it’s just nice to be touched.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to believe that it’s healthy for physical affection to be expressed in a number of different ways, and it doesn’t have to be reserved for someone that you’re married to.

I started to think about the concept of “cuddle buddies” – friends that you’d be happy to snuggle up on the couch with and watch a movie together, share a drink or a catch-up.

I’ve found myself in situations where I’ve wanted to express this kind of affection just because it feels right to do so, not because I want something sexual, but just because I want to feel a bit of warmth and connection with a friend. I’ve had friends who have rejected this, guys who are close and intimate with me in every other way in terms of sharing aspects of their lives, deepest fears, insecurities and secrets.  And it’s hurt me. 

Of course, at the same time I respect that everyone has the right to set their own personal boundaries. This is not about emotional blackmail.  But I decided to reach out to a few of my peers and ask them how they felt about cuddle buddies. I got a range of responses:

James

“One of the biggest issues I had when I was first introduced to the bear community is their tendency to be very tactile. I had to educate several people about where my boundaries were and while I lost the respect of some people, I would like to think that if they couldn’t respect my decisions about who touches my body and who doesn’t then they aren’t really the kind of people that I want in my life.”

However:

“As far as “cuddle buddies” go I can be very affectionate, once I know the person and I’m comfortable around them. And I usually make sure that people are comfortable with me being physical (even hugging) before I just go ahead and do it…”

Some gay men feel comfortable with their physical affection crossing gender boundaries.

Calvin:

“My closest of friends for many years, other than my magnificent partner, is my Laura. We often used to go to galleries together, and she’s one of those people who has little personal space, but in a great way.

“She always wants to hug, and in public will basically hold herself against me, or if we’re sitting, effectively sit on me. I love that we can be so beautifully close without any need for it be anything sexual. Indeed in recent years she moved from straight to lesbian, but nothing has ever changed. It’s innocent, lovely and feels great.”

And finally, from a couple I spoke with, Rex and Pete.  Rex picks up the story:

“As anyone who has ever met me knows, I am a cuddler. I always have been but because I didn’t come out till I was nearly 40, I never got the kind of affectionate man to man hugs I craved. And I do mean craved. There were times when I just ached to hold and be held by a man – but with the way my sex life was structured (beats, casual hook ups, no names no strings no complications) I never got them.

Perhaps I’ve made up for that since coming out. I love to hug, to cuddle, to touch, to be affectionate with people I like and care for. I do it un-self-consciously and I am happy to hug random strangers (and have)

The boundaries can get a bit blurry, especially where there is a deeper connection with someone. But honesty about that and acknowledging them keeps you aware of the boundaries. I don’t want to have sex with every man I cuddle or hug; some of them are just friends who I feel great affection for.

Others it is more complicated because there is a sexual attraction, at least on my part, but I can separate that from my desire to be affectionate. I can cuddle, want to fuck your brains out, and not do it.

Pete and I laugh about a recent incident where friends of mine who I am happy to kiss hello and hug, came up to Pete, who they didn’t know well.  One friend leaned in to give him a kiss and a hug. Pete tensed, his lips tightened, and he told them he didn’t kiss hello, and the other friend leaned in and said ‘well we do’ and proceeded to give him a kiss and a hug.

Pete’s face was pure terror and discomfort. He has since gotten to know them better and will hug and kiss hello but he is still somewhat awkward since he really only feels comfortable being affectionate with people he knows quite well. Once he is comfortable with someone though he is very cuddly.”

So what about you?  How do you feel about cuddle buddies, and where do your boundaries lie when it comes to expressing non-sexual physical affection with other men?

This article first appeared on Chistoprher’s own blog bipolearbear in April 2012 here. 

March 15, 2013 - 11:30 pm

Met a guy last night online who was visiting LA for the weekend. We meet up this evening and found we had more than just a simple mutual attraction. He's newly POZ (just six months) so when he got an eyefull of the tattoo he was a bit confused but being in the medical field he quickly connected the dots. His reaction, like many, was supportive yet I got the distinct feeling it wasn't for him. Coming from a more traditional background I think being openly gay and now POZ was more than enough for him to deal with though he did have a nice tribal tattoo.  I wonder if the tattoo would have been an issue for him if we wanted something more serious or maybe he would want one as well ... there's a thought.  

March 17, 2013 - 12:30 am 

We decided to meet up late this evening but because I presently have roommates and like my privacy we chose a more ‘interesting’ venue to hang out at, the local gay bathhouse.  To be honest I have avoided the bathhouses for many years as they no longer hold much appeal. But lacking a place, seeing how he had never been to one before and me desiring to gauge the reaction of people to the tattoo in a sexually charged environment, the bathhouse on a late Saturday evening was the perfect place. 

We did the grand tour of the smallest bathhouse in LA and while he was filling his eyes with the sights - bathhouses by nature defy description so I will not attempt - I was focused on the patrons and their reactions … which was nothing.  That said, we were never approached, nor did we approach anyone to get any sort of reaction.  After a thorough once over of the place we retired to our room and later headed out to West Hollywood. 

March 17, 2013, 2:30 am 

We arrived at one of my old haunts, the now remodelled Mickey’s bar for after hours but instead of dancing we found ourselves on the patio talking.  He attended small high school where he was openly gay, a handsome guy who was into weightlifting at the time and had the respect of his fellow classmates.  Now in his early 30’s he was having to quickly come to terms with being HIV+, something he was having issues accepting and this caused him difficulties disclosing.

Knowing he came from a small southern community I asked if he had told anyone of his family he was positive, something I have yet to do.  Upon his diagnose he called his siblings and told them, “I am HIV+, I need you to go on the web tonight and learn about it because when I call you tomorrow I am going to need your support!” and hung up.  He called back the next evening and when they answered the verdict was unanimous “you are not going to die!”  I have to be honest, this was one of the most simple yet powerful disclosure stories I have ever heard.  

March 17, 2013 - 4:30 am 

We spoke some more and being the night was still felt young to us we decided to retire to LA's largest bathhouse to round out the evening.  If I was going to get a reaction to the tattoo I imagined it would be at this location. Though it was late, there were still lots of people awake and looking to connect. We got a room on the ground floor and made a quick tour of this location; it had changed a bit since my last visit years earlier but the general layout remained the same, with a basement, ground floor and upstairs. 

My guest had a mind to get a third to join us, so we set out on a search. There was no shortage of guys and though we made several attempts, whether being a couple was too intimidating or the tattoo worried the players or the general luck of the evening, we were unsuccessful. Neither approached nor shunned, without actually interviewing someone I couldn't say for certain what was the root issue, if any. So much for testing the tattoo at the bathhouses. 

March 24, 2013 - 10:00 pm 

Yet another in my series of my trips to the Korean spa with the tattoo, one guy struck up a conversation about it saying it looked like the Olympic symbol (it does have three semi concentric rings), I corrected him saying it was actually a biohazard symbol and left it at that.  I was not particularly interested in informing him of my status as this was still the Korean spa and I didn't feel entirely comfortable just announcing my status randomly, sort of defeats the idea of limiting disclosure.  However if he pressed me I would have willingly explained why I was wearing the tattoo as it’s purpose is to promote discussion and it definitely empowers me to disclose. 

March 26, 11:45 pm 

Sitting in the spa at the gym before closing, just myself and another guy (seen him before never talked to him), when out of the blue he commented on the tattoo saying it looked like a gay symbol. (In fact the biohazard tatt is rainbow coloured so it serves to ID me as gay to the observant).  In context this was the day of the US Supreme Court hearing the arguments regarding the Defense Of Marriage Act (DOMA) and the following day they were scheduled to hear Proposition 8 arguments and he was curious how I felt about it as well as the possible outcome.  This was fascinating, as the tattoo appears to get people talking about things that are close to my heart other than just my status. This was a great and most unanticipated result. 

March 30, 2013 9:00 pm 

Arrived late to the Korean spa. I had problems applying the tattoo that evening; the skin seems oddly irritated but I ignored this and off to the spa I went. Only ten minutes into my visit I notice the tattoo, a thin sheet of acetate glued to my skin, was bubbling up. Argh! I pressed hard to get it to adhere and thought it would just stick ... it didn't.  The temporary tattoo that I usually wore for three to five days without any issues was coming unglued.  By the time I was done with my 70 minute session it had peeled up to the point that once I returned to my locker to change I needed to remove it.  It appears my skin has built up an allergic reaction causing the temporary tattoo to not only bubble up but actually cause physical pain to the application site.

So no more temporary tats, the universe has spoken! 

April 1, 2103 10:45 pm 

In the shower at the gym the following evening, a sexy young black guy is one shower over and is clearly looking for some action. Never been one for public play but without the tattoo I felt oddly more naked than I already was ... interesting that the tattoo appears to work for me both as a shield as well as a warning. 

April 6, 11:30 am 

Finally I made contact with Jill Jordan, a highly respected and innovative tattoo artist! Set an appointment with her for April 14th at 1:00 pm. My gym buddy Alonso is so excited he also wants to meet Jill (he has a tattoo of his own in mind). 

April 7, 2013 9:00 pm 

I meet up with my first former bf David while he was visiting LA and being that he was one of the inner circle of people who knew I was poz I wasted no time telling him about my desire to get the biohazard tattoo. Why open with the tattoo? David and I have also had a very deep connection on a spiritual level and I wanted to hear him ask "what is your intention?" 

I gave him my canned answer - it will make it easier to disclose, show solidarity to the HIV+ community, etc., yet I was merely buying time to really look deeper and see if I could find an even more tangible answer. This was always the way with us because of our connection and frankly it's quite refreshing to speak about life in terms of spirit and action.  Oddly I rarely avail myself of such opportunities anymore ... makes me wonder why. 

We had both been through some serious life events, broken relationships, health and financial issues, yet we seemed to be better off for it all.  By the end of the evening I was feeling very comfortable with David again and was ready to give him a better answer with regards to my intent of getting the tattoo. 

First, I wasn't branding my soul, only the body. It reminds me to be mindful of the infection but not overwhelmed by it. A few years ago I might have found such a reminder very disturbing, a constant reflection of a mistake I made and was unable to undo. But now much, like knowing I will die, I am coming to terms with it. The tattoo reminds me my life and time on this earth is precious as well as short and to embrace life at every opportunity. 

Second, the tattoo is a method of communication of not just my HIV status or that I am gay (the rainbow flag has many people identifying as a gay symbol) but purely as an art form with a language all its own.  I trust many will appreciate it on many levels but haters will hate and how I deal with such situations will be a measure of my own growth.  Most reactions have been good and I predict that though this seems like a bold act now it will be passé in 10 years but no less important to me! 

Lastly, it memorializes the freedom of my mind if not body from HIV (my spirit has always been free and I am beginning to appreciate that more and more). David applauded my intention and asked me to meditate further on this act. II told him I would and let him know what conclusions I reached. 

April 10, 10:00 pm 

Over the following days I considered what David and I talked about and we shared more messages over FaceBook when it dawned upon us - damn this tattoo really does get people talking. That’s when it hit me this was an immerging aspect, not just to communicate to other people but to get people talking - about HIV, about gay issues, breaking down the barriers we put up in our daily lives.  I am not so naïve to think this tattoo will change the world but getting people talking is a great start! 

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

Proverb 

“Ten seconds?! Is there nothing faster?!!”

Homer Simpson

(noticing the time remaining on the microwave) 

I’ve been talking with a good friend in a situation not unlike mine in my work, and while there are differences both in the communities in which we live and in the “audience” we seek to engage, the similarities and frustrations are similar. 

We all live in a world that has become increasingly used to immediate gratification. We expect that everything happens at the click of a mouse and the speed of cable connections. I remember someone telling me in 1997 that 58kbs was as fast as an Internet connection could ever possibly be. 

He was incorrect. 

My friend and I were and are (he left his work) in the process of building community. But in a world where we want everything yesterday, community building is old-fashioned and impossibly slow. It is the snail mail to email and apps for finding the next trick via GPS: “Mr. Hot Stuff is 10 metres from your current location…” Building community doesn’t come with a users’ manual and tutorials. It is a process that involves developing trust and connections and fostering and engaging people in connecting with each other. Those things don’t come with a clear timeline or rules. 

Average Joe’s in Vancouver has been going since the late 1980s, early 1990s. It’s a way to connect poz guys with each other in community. I doubt that in the early days there was more than a handful of men showing up for coffee or pizza, but the persistence and interest in being connected to people was important enough that it has blossomed into a large group of men living with HIV and various permutations of the original that suit others’ interests. Those early days were also well before anything like the internet was a concept we could grasp and cell phones were a technology requiring a forklift. 

In University I studied Music History. One of the most stunning things that I learned was how slowly ideas evolve. Back then it would take 500 years for one concept to replace another. These days, we expect the next i-something or other to come along within 6 months, if not sooner. We are like the wretched, selfish little girl Veruca Salt in Willy Wonka: “I want it NOW!!” 

But that’s not how it works. And the unfortunate casualties in our ever growing need for immediate gratification include the delicate blooms of real in-person communities. Health Authorities and funding agencies have the same expectations for delivering up “community” as though it were some sort of Athena, sprung fully-formed from the head of Zeus. There is no nuance anymore. If it isn’t countable and statistically significant, we have failed. 

The program for which I work, Positively Connected, has a small number of HIV+ guys on the email list and a small but slowly growing number of men attending events. It took a year to get this many out and every now and then one more person gets added and perhaps one drops away. It’s a process that involves talking or writing and connecting and re-connecting and trying something and failing and trying something else. I can’t just Facebook it into existence. I can’t make something new happen like it’s been running for years. I can’t make little conservative Victoria be like metropolitan Vancouver. And yet, there is an unspoken belief that’s how it all happens. 

Facebook is interesting because it’s a faux community. In fact, the whole online world is a fabrication. This does not mean that I don’t feel connected to people and my “friends”, but it’s not the same as being with someone in a café across a table talking over coffee, or physically hugging them – oddly hugging a computer monitor isn’t that pleasant. The people on social media are real people, and we’re connected but we’re not connected. I can’t walk down the street to visit my friend in Toronto for a beer, or have breakfast with my friend in Malaysia. Social media is an amazing thing and a useful tool as well, and I’ve had conversations with people I never would have met otherwise, and it leaves a hole in me: I will never likely meet most of those people who are probably amazing creatures. Making friends used to take weeks or months; now it only takes the clicking of the “confirm” button, and being in a community means simply “liking” a page. 

For many poz folk I know that the online world may be the only connection they have to other poz people, and for that I say “Huzzah, Mark Zuckerberg et al!” People living with the stigma of HIV (and many in small and rural communities) need those connections online: they are vital to maintaining our mental health and sense of belonging. But it also points out how glacially “real life” communities form. The sad part of the online world is that it is replacing real life interaction: it’s quick, it’s easy and I can turn it off whenever I want. 

There’s a book called “A Very Private Life” by Michael Frayn written in 1968. In it he explores a world like the one we’re creating: everyone lives in little rooms with only a screen connecting us to the outside world. A young woman accidentally comes in contact with a man in London. She falls in love and must leave her cubicle to meet him. Are we moving toward this world – where we are shut away from each other and more comfortable with that distance? Or are we willing to step outside that which is immediate and known, stop texting and risk the search for a community of which we can’t be sure and where we can surely find belonging? 

There’s a big world out there and it’s full of uncertainty and surprise and fear and love. 

And there’s no app for that.