On this World AIDS Day I’m thinking about my deceased friends and the power of paper and toner. If there was a number one reason I started making zines in 1992 it was because I got involved with Milwaukee’s chapter of ACT UP. As a bebe queer activist who wanted to teach my peers about better sexual (and overall) health, one of the best ways to communicate in that pre-internet era was through print.
So we did. We made zines and handed out rubbers and flyers with instructions on how to put them on. We talked about sex, and we danced, and we shouted and we put up stickers and wheat pasted and danced more. And we zapped politicians, and pharmaceutical companies, and died in the streets and locked down in offices… and we danced. And some of us got older, and learned more about harm reduction, and intersectionality, and our queer history, and are able still to dance (sometimes, and maybe in different ways, and still…) And some of us didn’t.
On any given day I mostly don’t care what my boss, or my family of origin and mishpucha, or a bunch of random fundie assholes think about me and what we’re doing here. But I do wonder what these ghosts would say. Would they be proud of us? These queer older siblings who would see that both science and society have come so far, and yet we’re battling the same bigotry – the homo- and trans- and bi-phobia, the same racism and poverty and classism that has allowed this dumb fucking syndrome to fester and spread for 40+ years. Would they be proud of who WE are, this collective of folks who want to preserve this history of print and all of the people whose stories and lives are spilled out among the pages because they taught us that we and our love and our bodies and our pleasure is worth fighting for?
I would like to believe so, but some days I really just don’t know.
xoMilo
