Denise Kulp, “On Working with My Brothers: Why a Lesbian Does AIDS Work.” Off Our Backs, vol. 18, no. 8, 1988, pp. 22–22:
[“A few weeks ago, on my day off, I got up early, jumped in the car, drove to another part of the city, and went to a demonstration. A little while later, I grabbed the hand of a man who has been my best friend in the world for twelve years, and the hand of a woman who has become a close friend over the last several months, and ran out into the street. Six people went with us. We sat, holding hands and chanting, for over three hours. And then we were arrested.
It was my first act of civil disobedience. I was arrested for demonstrating about AIDS.
It seems strange that it’s taken me so long to be arrested. I’ve spent twelve years being politically active, and there have been many actions and issues about which I’ve felt strongly enough to consider CD, but I’ve always decided it was inconvenient. But when the idea of committing this CD arose, I decided immediately. I planned ahead to take the day off. I made financial arrangements. I made sure at least one other woman would get arrested with me (and there were four of us, finally). And then I did it.
I come to my work as an AIDS activist full of anger, and with a long-held commitment to change. Recently I had a disagreement with a gay man who said that action born of anger was ineffective, while action born of love was positive. My position is that people I love are dying, and that makes me angry. I am making my anger powerful by turning it into action, to change the way things are.
And the people I love are dying. At least part of my definition of feminism is that I love women. And AIDS is killing women. Especially it is killing black women. And it is killing prostitutes, who are being blamed for spreading AIDS into the heterosexual community when in fact they are more likely to get it than to pass it on.
But I came to AIDS work through my concern for gay men. I have never called myself a separatist, and the major reason for that is because I love gay men. Part of the reason I love them is because so many of them were kind to me when I was coming out. I’ve always felt a kinship with gay men, an understanding; and I’ve always responded to a certain joy in life which many of the men I’ve known have shared. But the primary reason for my love of gay men is the very significant relationship I’ve had with Tim. We have been each other’s closest friend since we were seventeen. We give each other emotional support; we hold each other; we cry; we laugh, a lot. We want to have a child together. The thought of Tim dying, of anything happening to him, terrifies me. And so the threat of AIDS, originally, was brought home to me in a very personal way. But it didn’t stay personal. It expanded to the whole community of gay men. And then, of course, it expanded past that.
For the most part, I work on AIDS with gay men and lesbians. I share ideas, energy, and politics with gay men, and I have not had conversations with other friends about my work, but I’ve heard what they’ve said. (I am much happier when my friends talk to me). There seems to be a concern that women, feminists, lesbians especially, are going to forget about doing “our” own work and give most of our energy to gay men. There seems, further, to be some concern that in the focus on AIDS, lesbian issues and concerns are going to be waylaid, forgotten, buried. There seems, in fact, to be anger and resentment about this, and a belief that when it turns out that when lesbians are up against a wall, gay men will just walk away and forget all about us. They’ve never really been concerned with our issues anyway, right? What makes us (lesbians who work on AIDS issues) think gay men will change?
Okay. Fine. I never said that all gay men are non-sexist and perfect (although I do think Tim is perfect). I never said that I expected all relationships between gay men and lesbians to change over night. But I will say other things.
First off, why do we say that gay men never cared about our issues? We seem to be thinking of gay men as a monolith (which is almost as bad as thinking of them generically, as I have, above). There have always been some gay men who have understood and supported our issues, as there have also been gay men who have totally different politics, as there have always been Lesbians who don’t agree with “our” politics. (Now who’s the monolith?) (And besides, don’t you believe there are lesbian anti-abortion Reagan supporters?) But, more importantly, when have we asked gay men to support our issues? Almost every political group I’ve been a member of has been women only. We haven’t wanted men involved. We’ve wanted to develop our own sense of power, our own way of doing politics. Men, if they like, can do child care at women only events. But we want our own space. There are all things I support. But we can’t really expect gay men to understand lesbian issues unless we take the time to explain, and to ask for their support. We haven’t done that.
There is an assumption that because some lesbians are working on AIDS issues with gay men that we are giving all our energy, emotional, political energy only to gay men. This isn’t true. Women are dying. WOMEN ARE DYING. When I do political work, I think of the gay men I know who have died, the men I know now who have AIDS, of the friends of my friends. But I also think of the seventeen year old black prostitute who died blind, who was the buddy of a friend of mine. I remember that there are recorded cases of lesbian-to-lesbian transmission. I know who’s dying. And I know that it’s because of who was dying first that so little government money has been spent on this disease, that it has taken so long for people to be concerned. Public hysteria didn’t start when faggots were dying; it started out when we found out AIDS passes through blood, and that straight men can die too. And when faggots started dying, it was other faggots, and some lesbians, and some straight women who took care of them. I feel fine about giving my energy to those faggots. I’m just mad it took me so damn long.
Will those gay men stand up for me when lesbians are against the wall? Yes. I am trusting them. I look at these men I’m working with, and I see a facilitator who actually tries to facilitate, men who support an anti-sexist, anti-racist statement as soon as it’s suggested, men who want to be told when they do or say something sexist, men who choose a lesbian as a spokesperson when they go to trial, men who actually listen to the lesbians they’re working with because maybe these women have some more political experience than they do. Yes, I am trusting these men.
I look at the lesbian and gay movement as it has developed over the last twenty years, and I see it as dichotomized. There is the mainstream lesbian and gay movement— Democrats and Republicans, task forces, advocates, defense funds, and campaign funds— and I see it as a meeting place where lesbians and gay men come together, but as a place where mostly men are involved. More men have traditionally been invested in that game. But right-on radical lesbians have played that game, too. (Heavens, I even dated one!) (Wait! I think I was one!) It’s one way of doing things, and it gets things done— anti-discrimination laws, for example, at least sometimes, at least some places.
And then there’s “our” movement, the lesbian-feminist one. We’re national, certainly, but more grass-roots, or even closer to the ground/land. And we have always been more radical. We have a different culture, a different vision, an analysis. In college I did a big paper on the gay rights movement, and I remember feeling so superior when I realized that lesbians have a theory (tons of them, actually) and gay men don’t. Historically, lesbians and gay men have looked at the world separately and differently. We haven’t tried to engage them in our struggle, and they haven’t a clue about how to engage us in theirs. But a lot of things are changing that, and AIDS is one of them. If we can keep down the barriers that some of us are breaking through, maybe, when the immediate crisis is over, we can work together, carefully, to a new place.
Like I said, I’m trusting the gay men.”]
