Today as I write this column it is September 11th. While the deadline for this column is fast approaching, one week from today, another deadline of sorts is upon us all this day. Ground zero, with no warning, swallows us whole, chews us up, and spits us out, when we least expect it.
A little over five years ago, the then editor of Positively Aware magazine, the late Charles Clifton, asked me if I would write an article for the November/December 2001 issue to document my experiences with New-Fill (now known as Sculptra) injections, which I was about to undertake to address the lipoatrophy I was experiencing. My first injection was on September 10, 2001. Little did I know that, like so many others, 9/11 would soon color my experiences, and my writing, forever.
Around that same time I received a letter addressed to Mr. Jeff Berry, Editor, Positively Aware. I stuck a yellow post-it on the envelope. On it I scrawled a brief message to the effect of something like, “Charles, unless I’ve been promoted to editor, I think this letter is for you!” and placed it in his mail slot outside his office.
In true Charles fashion, understated yet at the same time profound, he sent me a brief e-mail on 9/18/2001. It read, “Jeff, I know you dislike all the sucking up and politicking that goes with this position, but I just want you to know that I know you would make a great editor of this publication. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to represent PosAware and TPAN.”
While at the time I surely appreciated his comments, I don’t think I ever replied. I printed out the e-mail, filed it away, never showed it to anyone, and barely gave it another thought.
And then Charles died suddenly and unexpectedly of a pulmonary embolism in August of 2004. In the days immediately following his death, I along with his co-workers, family, and friends all struggled to make sense of his tragic and untimely passing. In a sometimes desperate search for solace and meaning those first few days, I would read and re-read his notes to me, mostly for my own benefit. At some point I thought it might help to show this particular note to a few of my closest co-workers, perhaps in a feeble attempt to comfort them, as well as myself, as if it were some sort of post-humus communication from Charles.
When I showed them the e-mail, they suggested to me that I should consider being editor. I was incredulous at first, never once having considered seeking the position. “Oh, no, that’s not for me,” I replied, perhaps trying to convince myself as much as them. But as I stared at that e-mail from Charles, it dawned on me for the first time that perhaps he had seen something that I hadn’t.
I joined the staff of TPAN in 1992, in large part due to this magazine, as a result of a small ad calling for volunteers. In my various positions over the years at the agency I have always been dedicated, passionate, and committed to upholding the high quality of the publication, to the people I’ve worked and come in contact with, and to the difference the magazine has made and continues to make in so many people’s lives.
And that is why I still work for Positively Aware 14 years later. I feel extremely privileged to be able to help carry on the tradition of bringing accurate and up-to-date treatment and support information to so many people living with and affected by HIV.
So, when I was in Toronto at the XVI International AIDS Conference in August, a colleague of mine and I went to dinner with a dear friend. As I related certain parts of this story to him with a mixture of emotion and nostalgia, he turned to me and said, “May I make a suggestion? I can see how much this means to you, and how it affects you. Why don’t you write about it in the next issue?”
This man had spent time with Charles at the AIDS conference in Bangkok, and had known him intimately for many years, as have so many others whom I’ve been lucky to befriend. His comments that night in Toronto reminded me of when, a few months after Charles died, I attended my first Retrovirus conference. There I met for the first time a long-time, well-respected international treatment activist and writer, who upon learning who I was, looked at me and said simply: “Oh…big shoes.”
I’ll never forget that moment, not only because I knew he loved and respected Charles tremendously, but because it instantly conveyed to me the immense responsibility that comes with being the editor of a publication which started out, and continues to be, one of the most authoritative voices for people living with HIV, by people living with HIV.
I don’t take that responsibility lightly. I’ve come to learn that all of us hold an essential piece to the pandemic puzzle, and we all have something of intrinsic value which is truly unique and ours alone to contribute in this struggle. We all have a voice, and Charles, as well as many of his contemporaries, has given me the strength and confidence I’ve needed to carry on the time-honored tradition of Positively Aware.
So every day I cherish and am thankful for the opportunity to give a voice to the many different faces of HIV. And thanks, Charles, for the opportunity.
Take care of yourselves, and each other.
Jeff Berry
Editor
publications@tpan.com |
