True Colors, by Pat Gourley

“You with the sad eyes
Don’t be discouraged
Oh I realize
Its hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside of
you
Can make you feel so small
But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that’s why I love you
So don’t be afraid to let
them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow.”
Lyrics from True Colors
by Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly.
Once you read the lyrics
to the song True Colors made a famous
hit by Cyndi Lauper back in 1986 you can see why it has been adapted as a Queer
anthem and especially by certain LGBT youth groups. A great coming out song if
there ever was one.
Steinberg originally
wrote the song about his mother. Later modified by Tom Kelly and picked up,
when offered, by Cyndi Lauper. At the time she apparently felt drawn to it
because of the recent death of a friend from AIDS.
All the gains made by
Queer people in the past 50+ years or so can be laid squarely at the feet of
our being willing to let our true colors shine through. As has been mentioned
many times in this group and then powerfully validated by our personal stories
it is the individual coming out process that is such a very powerful
change-creating phenomenon.
It is this act of true
self-expression that sets us apart from all other minorities and gives us such
power. Also the fact that we are part of and transcend all economic, class and
racial groups gives us a leg up. We are everywhere.
The AIDS connection to
the song brought to it by Lauper has made me wonder about the reason and
implications for recent data on new HIV infections just released last week. In a
story from the Boston Globe published on February 23rd, 2016 they
broke down recent CDC data on projected lifetime risk of HIV among gay men by
race.
The data was sobering to
say the least. Overall risk for HIV infection among Americans as a whole has
decreased. The risk of infection was 1 in 78. It has now decreased to 1 in 99
for the U.S. population. However, per the CDC report the lifetime risk for
queer men is 1 in 6, overwhelmingly greater than for the population as a whole.
That is amazing enough but where it gets truly shocking is in the racial
disparity for gay men. The lifetime risk for black gay men is 1 in 2, for
Latinos it is 1 in 4 and for white gay men 1 in 11.
WTF! I guess not
surprising the greatest risk for black gay men is in southern states but the
highest risk is in the District of Columbia. As depressing as this news is it
actually reflects an improvement over the past but still unacceptably bad.
In the actual CDC report
certain prevention challenges for the gay African American community were
identified. These were: socioeconomic factors, smaller and more exclusive
sexual networks, sexual relations with older men, lack of awareness of HIV
status and stigma, homophobia and discrimination.  I would hope that these “prevention
challenges” are ones that have been identified by community-based black gay men
themselves and not pronouncements that have come down from on high by CDC AIDS
specialists.
So I’d ask what we as the
broader queer community can do to help reverse these dismal statistics? A first
step might be taking a hard look at how significant racism is still a reality
within the queer community particularly and what am I doing personally to
address any latent racism I may harbor.
Does the safe space exist
in a non-threatening manner for the queer black community to develop and thrive
and what is needed from the broader queer community to facilitate this happening?
Perhaps this just involves our ongoing participation in the struggle for peace
and social justice.
We must guard against a
cop-out response to these stats by saying well it is the homophobia within the
broader African American community that is responsible for this. Most of us
have come out of families and communities less that welcoming of our queerness
if not out right hostile. Something else has to be going on here. At the very
least these extremely sobering AIDS statistics need to be a reason for pause
and sincere soul searching certainly by gay white men looking sincerely at how we
might be part of the problem too.
The best HIV prevention strategy
is the creation of a society where everyone’s true colors can shine
through from cradle to grave.
© 25 Feb 2016 
About
the Author
 
I was born in La Porte Indiana in 1949, raised on a farm and schooled
by Holy Cross nuns. The bulk of my adult life, some 40 plus years, was spent in
Denver, Colorado as a nurse, gardener and gay/AIDS activist. I have currently returned to Denver after an
extended sabbatical in San Francisco, California.

Believe It or Not, This Really Happened to Me by Phillip Hoyle

Several years ago I developed an unusual medical condition that stumped my doctor and both interested and frightened me. One morning I discovered a growth on the index finger of my left hand. It first appeared to be a long splinter the length of the finger next to the thumb. Unlike a splinter, it seemed articulated and bent when my finger bent. I was fascinated but also knew I needed to show it to my doctor. I couldn’t get an appointment that first day but set one for the next. Overnight the splinter-like protrusion expanded a little bit beyond the finger, and looked like a kind of lobe, like a smaller finger attached to the index finger.

Many things went through my mind on the bus ride to Dr. Pierce’s office. Was this some kind of exotic infection from Africa? I had any number of African friends. Was it from the high Himalayas, the original home of my friend Ming? Or China where my friends Rong and Fong originated? Or Korea from which Chong immigrated? I decided not to worry and just kept my hand on my lap covered by my other rather normal appearing right hand. But I did worry. Would I ever again play the piano? Could one even play with six fingers? Would I have to give up my massage practice? I’d already cancelled half a dozen massages. Would I still be able to shuffle a deck of cards?

At the doctor’s office I watched as my physician examined the oddity. He said it was not a splinter but rather a buildup of fluid and proposed to extract some of it for further examination. Out came the needle. Into the finger it reached. Out came dark red blood. Doctor looked concerned and marked the sample for the lab to examine STAT. He asked me to wait and showed me to an empty room. I wondered what he’d find. I had wanted to excise the dark line that invited ideas of demon possession, an idea I had long excised from my mind. Couldn’t I simply cut it off like I once did a mole? I examined myself. I thought about the many projects I was planning. I made a list of friends to call, especially those I had lost track of over the previous couple of years. I checked my phone messages, listening to all those I’d not heard, erasing many, many voice and text messages, and otherwise filled my time with distracting tasks. After about an hour, a nurse brought me a bottle of water and some magazines apologizing for the long inconvenience. My one hour wait turned into two hours. Finally Dr. Pierce returned. He told me I would have to enter the hospital. My heart rate rose. “We need to keep watch over this.” He frowned; I wondered why. “The CDC wants you isolated,” he explained for their computers had matched the sample with something dreadful. My fears shook me.

I entered a world of sterile isolation. There all was bed rest, confusion, and fear. The staff members were nice to me yet cautious and also afraid. I was also amazed for when in my long life had anything I had ever done become of national concern? Finally I awoke from the dream that morning, December 29, 2010.

Morning Pages entry from 12-29-2010

Woke up from a dream in which I discovered a growth on my index finger. It looked like a long splinter the length of the finger but protruded a little bit beyond in a separate lobe as if the whole thing were growing alongside my finger. I used it as an illustration that, like this splinter, most folk in the room (were they UUs?) would like to excise the mythological elements from their minds. I wondered if it really was a splinter and thought I’d like to find out. The stuff that came out was liquid like pussy blood. The CDC said to contain the liquid and get it to a hospital for examination. The medics were to isolate me because their computers had matched it with something dreadful. Sterile concerns all along towards the end of the dream. Keep samples sterile, etc. keep the fluid isolated. Isolate me, too.

© Denver 2014

About the Author 



Phillip Hoyle lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, and socializing. In general he keeps busy with groups of writers and artists. Following thirty-two years in church work and fifteen in a therapeutic massage practice, he now focuses on creating beauty. He volunteers at The Center leading the SAGE program “Telling Your Story.”

He also blogs at artandmorebyphilhoyle.blogspot.com