Pozdar

“What are you talking about?” Ken usually is the one of us that is the least tolerant of the way Gary kind of backs into a story through the side door.

“I started seeing it around here, but I brushed it off thinking that people here know who I am. I may not know them personally, but they know me from my days of bartending. They know who I am, that I’m gay and that I’m HIV-positive.

“But last summer when I was visiting some friends in New York City, we were walking down the street in the Village and a guy walking toward us smiled and nodded at me.”

“You were in the Village, for God’s sake, he was cruising you,” Miguel said with a touch of impatience.

“No, wait, let me finish,” Gary interrupted. “You know my friends in New York are all gay too. They said the same thing, but that’s not what I felt. There was nothing sexual about it at all.”

“You just found a friendly person in New York City,” I said

“It happened again later that day. We were going to see a show. We were out of the Village and up in Times Square. You know how touristy that area has become. The same group of us was walking together and a guy who was also with a group of people looked me in the eye and smiled. He had a camera around his neck so there was a good chance he was from out of town also.”

“Okay, you have a friendly face,” Jerome said. “What’s so earth shattering about all this? There better be more to this story.”

“There is,” Gary said. “After this I noticed that it was happening more than I realized. Later in the summer, I was in Philadelphia, the same thing. Whether I was in a gay neighborhood, a tourist area, wherever, I keep getting these warm knowing smiles, sometimes a little nod, a wink. Then finally I figured it out. These guys were all HIV-positive and they knew I was too.

“I know how you guys sometimes think that I am a little out there when I start talking about souls and the strength of the human spirit, and I knew you all would treat this with more than a little cynicism, but I truly believe that even subconsciously we are always in search of kindred spirits, people who understand what we are going through.

“We all know about gaydar. I think those of us who are living with HIV are developing a form of gaydar, sort of a pozdar. Sometimes there are physical things that make someone stand out as HIV-positive and those of us who live with it can see it much better than people who aren’t as familiar with the side-effects, but there’s more. Because HIV is such a huge part of my life and long time ago I decided to accept it and not keep it tucked away inside, I think others who have done the same can feel that. They understand and it makes them feel a little more normal.”

“I agree,” I added, “we don’t necessarily have to tattoo our status on our foreheads, but we really do need to understand that being HIV-positive is a part of our very being. We probably think about it more throughout the course of a day than anything else. So why not make it part of our persona? If we do, others will pick up on it. We don’t have to start a Positive Pride campaign, although that might not be such a bad idea, but we need to open ourselves to others who need the reassurance that they are not alone.”

Jerome was nodding. “Gaydar came into being so that gay people could find each other without wearing our gayness on our sleeve. Even in the gay community there is still a stigma attached to being positive, so I guess we’ve had to develop a way of sharing without screaming ‘I’m positive.’”

“I wonder,” Miguel asked, “if this is happening with all people who are positive? I don’t think I would feel it with, say, a woman who is positive because even though I know many positive women, it is not something I think about when I meet a woman or even a straight man. It must be much more difficult for straight people to develop pozdar. I hope it happens because I know I feel so much better when I realize the person standing next to me is positive and out there living a regular life. Jerome, you said there still is a stigma in the gay community, but HIV is such a big part of gay life. We look at guys and turn on the gaydar to figure out if they are gay and now we’ll add the pozdar. It seems like the natural succession.”

“Of course, because some of us prefer sex with other positives, we will use our pozdar when looking for sex, but I hope it becomes more than that,” Gary said. “I hope it is used for reassurance, that we use it to let other positive people know they are not alone. Those of us who have accepted—and in a kind of weird way embraced—our ‘positiveness’ can share it with other positive people and not necessarily say a word.”

“Once again, Gary, in your own convoluted way, you make sense.” Ken shook his head. “And hell, if your pozdar malfunctions, what harm can giving another person a warm friendly smile hurt?”