I got this book suggested by a mentor of mine who survived the AIDS crisis and was part of ACT UP. I'm in a bit of a personal journey when it comes to what I want my activism and community organizing should look like, and he suggested this book. Haven't finished it yet, but its been so amazing that I had to share in case anyone is interested in learning about our lost queer history. Its called The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination "In this gripping memoir of the AIDS years (1981–1996), Sarah Schulman recalls how much of the rebellious queer culture, cheap rents, and a vibrant downtown arts movement vanished almost overnight to be replaced by gay conservative spokespeople and mainstream consumerism. Schulman takes us back to her Lower East Side and brings it to life, filling these pages with vivid memories of her avant-garde queer friends and dramatically recreating the early years of the AIDS crisis as experienced by a political insider" There is a free preview here Its been fascinating and in a lot of way a big slap in the face that I needed. The loss of the thousands of radicals is a bit daunting.
I will definitely have to read it. My favorite one that I've read is The Gay Metropolis, which was written in the mid 90s and traces the history of the LGBT (less so trans) movement from the 40s until then
I will try to read it. I'm not sure I'll be able to. The whole history of what happened to the movement fills me with such profound sadness, I just don't know. I came in towards the end of the worst of it, but was so steeped in the literature of the time before me and most of my friends were from that time. To have such a large chunk of your people swept away in such short order is bad enough. Worse still is that to a really significant degree it was the best of us who died--the most courageous, the boldest, the most beautiful, those with the most generosity of spirit. And finally to learn the lesson which I think we learned too well, that it wasn't a coincidence--that they didn't die despite who they were but because they were our bravest, boldest, most beautiful, most generous of spirit. It's enough to break a person, to break a people. And I really think to a large degree it did. We as a people "learned" what happens when you fly too close to the sun, and we just gave up flying. It makes me unspeakably sad...
One of my 2019 resolutions was to read more GLBT-themed books (or, in fact, to read ANY. I think it has been 8 years since I read any GLBT works of literature). So I'll take this thread as the universe's signal to get started! I am bracing for a confrontational read, though. I quite literally don't know any gay people older than myself, nor anyone who is HIV positive. By the time I came out, the first antiretrovirals were already in common use. So I suppose that the gentrified lens is the only way I have ever had to take in this history. I have often wondered what I would have done, had I been around in the 1980s. And as much as I'd like to believe I'd be a hero of the community, part of me fears I'd have been the congressman with a wife and five kids who was SHOCKED to have been found in a public restroom after slipping and falling on another man's dick. So part of me severly wonders whether gentrification, apart from its detrimental effects, was also what allowed me to come out in the first place...
Yes, agh. Not sure if you use instagram, but there is a great account that puts together great content that is uplifting and tries to highlight a moment or person from the past. Its fantastic and its called LGBT history. They also created a book that looks way more uplifting than sad. I just pre-ordered it and cannot wait. This is honestly one of the saddest thing that has happened to us younger lgbt. We are losing the wisdom and experience from a whole generation. The things I have learned form the previous generation have been life changing. If there are organizations locally for you to meet older lgbt people who were activists back then, I would highly recommend it. Oh for sure, I don't know if I would be strong enough to lose all the privileges that I have in order to be myself. Who knows, but considering the limits to the sacrifices that I'm already not making, I would probably not be as out as I am right now.
