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Radical Red:
Did You Ever Know That You’re My Hero?
by Laura Jones |
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The latest holiday season passed full
of parties and socializing even for relative introverts like
me. I rang in the New Year over at a friend’s house—one
of those hyper-organized social engineers who sets up little
“Activities” for guests to do at parties, little rituals
arranged decoratively on tables in special corners of the room.
There was a chalkboard upon which we were all to write our Biggest
Goal for the New Year (“Learn Polish” was one of mine,
in case anyone knows where I might take lessons), a bowl of
apple slices in another corner to eat in celebration of the
freshness of the new year, and a table in the bathtub that held
a ceramic plate, a bowl of matches, and slips of paper for writing
down Things to be Released (which you then set on fire, in the
safety of the bathtub). And in the living room, there were more
pieces of paper, markers, and tape—so you could write down
your favorite memory of 2003 and tape it to the archway above
the entry to the “entertainment area” (i.e. the stereo/TV/sofa
corner of the room).
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Our staff, volunteers, and clients are
my heroes, and how many people are lucky enough to spend
40+ hours of their week surrounded by their heroes?
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People had some pretty exciting stuff
taped up on that archway: “My trip to Iran”, “The
birth of my first child”, “My wedding”, “Skydiving
in Colorado”—that kind of thing. I was trying to remember
if I’d even taken a real vacation in 2003 when my own response
struck me… but it sounded ridiculously homestyle (especially
compared to the births of first children, weddings, and trips
to Iran). Still, the more I mulled it over the more I realized
it was the truth—it really was my favorite memory of 2003,
the image that will forever leap to mind when I’m old and
crippled with osteoporosis and thinking back on the salad days
of my early 30s. So I wrote it down and taped it up, and left
it fluttering there on the archway with First Children and Iran
and someone’s Wedding.
What’d I write? I wrote this: “Going
to Work”, because it’s the truth. Our staff, volunteers,
and clients are my heroes, and how many people are lucky enough
to spend 40+ hours of their week surrounded by their heroes?
Not many, probably. But I get to, so why not brag on that at
a New Year’s party?
The friends and others I’ve known
for a few years thought that was a pretty cool response, since
they know where I work and what I do and how much I enjoy my
place of employment and everyone I rub elbows with there. But
there were many new faces at this party, and lots of people
took the opportunity to ask what kind of work I do once they
read my response. Surely it must be something uber-exotic and
exciting, if it’s my Best Experience of 2003.
People who are not “in the field”,
as we say, often don’t know quite what to say when they
learn that you love your HIV/AIDS-related job. This is especially
true when you reveal yourself to be neither Case Manager, Social
Worker, Lobbyist, nor any of those other Noble Helpers or Glamorous
Activists, but rather just a plain old grantwriter-cum-program
developer-cum-fill-in-the-blank-when-no-one-else-is-available-to-do-it
person for a small “peer-led” agency. “What’s
in it for you?” their faces say, while “Isn’t
that depressing?” comes out of their mouths with some frequency.
They’re always surprised when I
tell them “No. Why should it be?” I work with people
who, by the simple fact of getting up every day and going about
their business, tell both a virus and a stigmatizing society
to bite them. I work with people who aren’t afraid to talk
openly about sex, drugs, sickness, and death in plain, down-to-earth
terms. Best of all, I work with people who don’t take their
lives or their health for granted, and are able to make black-humored
jokes about chronic conditions and ailments that would send
most others back to bed in two minutes—all while going
about their business, same as anyone else. Pretty damn inspiring,
when you think about it.
As for the “What’s in it for
me?” part… well, anyone who can laugh instead of cry
while describing the best way to navigate an ice slick while
trying not to unleash a diarrhea spill in their pants is my
hero. Anyone who considers it a blessing to lose only four close
friends a year instead of 14 is my hero. Anyone who is able
to stick with a commitment to recovery while dealing with the
stresses of HIV-positive life is my extra-special hero—as
is anyone who is brave enough to go back to school or consider
parenthood while living with HIV, especially when so many people
at parties seem to believe that being HIV-positive renders a
person pretty much unable to tie their own shoes, let alone
hold down a job or a have a healthy sex life.
I’m surrounded by Everyday Heroes,
every time I go to work. Who can ask for more than that? |
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