24

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24
I am HIV and I'm free. 24 years that I have been HIV positive. Yes I'm putting my bizness out there. You see for to long I have been living in shame. Shame of what was part of me. Shame of what was in me. Shame for who I was. Shame for turning my back on the one person who never turned their back on me, God.
All those years I felt like there was steel in the bottom of my shoes. Making it difficult for me to walk forward. My steps burden. Trying to catch up to my dreams which were fading into black and white before they disappeared altogether. what is a person without dreams?

24

24 years ago he saw me.

"I guess I should have know
by the way he parked his car sideways
that it wouldn't last.
You're the kind of person, believing making love once,
love them then leave them fast"

And he saw a person who walked with no self worth. No worth which was stolen by his cousin while who was supposed to be babysitting him. Self worth stolen by a mother who renamed  him, "IwishIneverhadyoustupidmotherfucker Jr. He saw my worth as I walked with my head to the ground not feeling I had that worth to look people in the eyes. Unknown to me he would see me walking home from school and I was his target.He fed off the dim light that shined from me

He was a smooth operator.

He was so smooth he got me to get into his car. He was so smooth, that I followed him into an abandon store, down a dusty basement to a dirty mattress. He was so smooth that when it was painful, I took it for affection as it seemed no one else cared. He was so smooth I never knew what he name was.

He didn't stay to watch me give birth to the gift he left me. Only instead of nine months I bared his gift for years.

24

24 years of finally reaching a place where I can say I no longer have any shame. Where I can name it and claim it. Of finally reaching my place of acceptance of what I had by walking through rivers of my own tears. Weaving my way through depressing clouds and finally seeing my refection in the pool of life and facing the demons I ran from.
I finally reached a place where I accepted God's open arms, arms that were never closed but there waiting for me to accept. Where I finally heard his message-Don't give up/Don't give in.
I am HIV and I'm free.
I repeat I am HIV and I'm free.
To be free of the shame you have to name it to claim.
There are those who say they have HIV but HIV doesn't have them. If you're walking around denying what you have or you have an online profile and in your status you say you're negative when you know you're positive.
It has you.
I now dream in color.
I once again have learned to laugh. To love and most importantly, to live!
To live!
I'm HIV and I'm free!
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Showing Our Pride

Gay Pride.

It has so many different meanings for many people. For some it means a gathering of various LGBT communities coming together to celebrate who we are. For others it may be the time to bring awareness of what's going on in the community such as the fight for the right to marry. Others sit on the sidelines grumbling that Pride has lost its focus and that it used to have a meaning but now it's just an excuse for people to get drunk and have sex.

For me Pride is a reflection on what we do have and a recognition that although as an LGBT person things are not perfect, we still have made advances. I could be a naysayer and look at the half empty glass of pride and ask;
'Why are we still treated like second hand citizen?'
'Why is there no outcry on the rising rates of HIV/AIDS in the minority communities?'
'Why has Obama not delivered on his promises?'

There's many more examples but then there's also another side of looking at Pride.
As this is being written New York has joined the small handful of states that makes it legal for gays to marry. The move shows the progressiveness of the state but more than anything it shows what can happen when we keep the fight as a collective even when it looks like the sun will never shine on the promise. It didn't happen overnight. Yet we kept pressing our step forward and those who were on the fence or against it at first saw the fruit we held. This alone is a reason to celebrate Pride!

If we look back to how things were ten years ago, we have to acknowledge that we have made many steps, they made have been small, but they were steps that were forward. Whether it's the media, such as television shows and movies that are giving more visibility to gay members or the mainstream now joining in the backlash against those speaking negatively of people in the life. You can also see it in the faces of our youth who are coming out and expressing themselves more than they did especially when I was growing up. They represent a growing flower sprouting up out of the spoiled dirt.

To really appreciate Pride we also have to look at those who don't have that same right to celebrate. In other countries, if people were to march and have a parade there would be violence. Berlin is one example yet they still march despite the threat of harm. Or look at places in Africa where the government can invade your privacy and monitor your actions or come into your home and drag you out in the middle of the night. Public beatings or killing of gay people in the West Indies territories seem to be sanctioned.  If we really look at other global places we can see more examples where the freedoms we have is denied to others.




Again I realize we have much more work to do but there's a value in giving ourselves a time to celebrate the small victories. A opportunity to renew our spirits, our energies before we head back on the front lines in the battle for our rights.

We're so used to everything happening fast whether it's our internet connection, our technology, hell even our relationships. We want it now!!

Sorry.

 And if I was a youngster today I know my mother would turn off my home video game system that I was playing for hours and she would look at me and say

"Go out and play"

The battle will be there when we get back, but at least we'll be rejuvenated!

Happy Pride!

Closed for Repairs

Closed for repairs
My ass is closed for repairs. You see I had to do it because it was damaged and not running the way it’s supposed to run. But first let me admit it’s my fault that it got in the condition that it did. I knew it as juicy and as they say, junk in the trunk, but I let those titles let it get in the way and it started to define who I was. Nothing but a piece of meat. An objectification for someone’s unspoken fantasy. For a while I knew it wasn’t acting right but I was in denial. I was thinking that everything was fine. But the shit was broke like a bad joke.
 I started to let it…lose its way. Like a hooptie running on a spare tire, you know the wheel needs fixing but you figure since it’s still rolling you can let it get by. Pushing my luck on whispered dreams. Yet somehow it came from behind, no pun intended and it started to take over. So people stopped seeing me but they noticed that ass.
“Damn boy you packin!!” “Back that shit up!” “Let me hit that papi.” “Yo my nigga let me holla at you.” It was encouraging languages of strangers whose names even today I couldn’t tell you and my identity was morphing into what my ass wanted others to be.
I’m telling you it was doing strange shit. Shit it never did before. It was taking pictures of itself and placing it on the internet, you know, the sex site where you can either order in or have it delivered. There my ass was with no discretion, “HarlemAssforit”. Get it? Yeah it took me awhile also. But I’ll be damned if it didn’t it work. And to show how selfish my ass had become, it never allowed the face to be seen because it didn’t feel the face had no value. The online mailbox started to become filled with other’s caught in my ass web. It started to put out offers to strangers and just strange people. When I was in control it was selective but when it gained power he didn’t care who came over…I’m being politically correct, I meant came in him.
It was becoming reckless and didn’t care what the other person had swimming in their ocean. He didn’t care that sometimes the waters were dirty. He didn’t care if he was getting dirty. He cared for the instant satisfaction. You can call me an absentee landlord as I was hoping my heart would have kept an eye on things, but my heart, had its own issues. It had placed a wall around itself so it couldn’t see what was going on. There is none so blind that refuses to see.
Unchecked.
That’s what my ass was, unchecked. And the many dirty waters it let flow into him started to contaminate everything else. My eyes, my sense of touch, my feelings. My belief in love. My trust eventually my health. It grew in me a bitterness that the only reason anyone was interested in me was not for me but for what was behind me. I was drowning and it seemed I was sinking faster than I could swim. I eventually asked him what the fuck he was doing and he told me
“Yo I’m a power bottom. I got control of all these fools. I got it.”
 Control.
I’m the one who was supposed to have control. How can you have control when someone asks, “Who’ is it and you say “It’s yours”. How can you give your stuff up to someone who treats you as if you’re a multipack. You know those choices of cereals where they can get what they want without committing. One day it’s Cocoa Puffs and the next day it’s Frosted Flakes. A city filled with choices and no reason to choose just one. I was trying to tell him that the only difference between a hooker and a hoe was the fee. Is that what I was letting it turn me into, a hoe? Because I never got a dollar for all those rides. Sometimes I didn’t even get a thank you.
The only thing it was getting was empty satisfaction and an anonymous gratification that resulted in unreturned texts and unanswered phone calls to the heart.
I let it take over everything but when it went for my soul that’s when I had to step in. Hell naw I wasn’t letting you take that over. My soul was my center. It was the thing that gave me peace when all this out there was fucked up. My soul was my identity which I was slowly losing. It was the one thing that let me look in the mirror and see a reflection. It was the only thing that woke me up and gave me the 411 on what was happening. It woke me up and told me I was walking around, damaged.
Closed for repairs.
A broken piece of precious china that I had to glue back together again, one by one. Waking myself up and placing my ass in solitary.  Not as punishment but to help it find out the connection it had with me. Helping it know the difference between love and lust and lost.
It took awhile but I repaired it and now if I’m ever in a situation where someone wants to get to know it, they have to introduce themselves to my heart which also in the process tore its walls down. And if it ever comes to a case of someone asking me, “Whose is it” I’m going to tell them. It’s mine.

Words Kill

I remember when I was around 11 or 12 , my mother called me away from my brother and sisters. Taking me aside she looked at me and gave me a warning.
"If you ever turn out to be gay I'll kill you"
I didn't know where she was coming from as I never placed that title on myself, but there must have been something I did or behaved to make her feel that way. Again I was a very young man and was not sexually active, so it wasn't about that. Yet I do recall how she would tell me to stand straight and quit standing like a girl or how I was not suppose to have my wrist limp. And even though internally I did know that there was something different about me, she went ahead and placed a name on it.
And she not only placed a name on it but she followed it with a threat on my life.
From the moment I heard that threat I spent most of my teen and even young adult life, not giving her validations that I was gay. I was literally scared that she was going to follow through with her threat. The person who I looked to for protection, who gave me birth, who fed me, who was supposed to guide me through this huge world, was now something I feared.
As most may have known by now there's a controversy with comedian Tracy Morgan, a actor on the show 30 Rock and a stand up comedian. The controversy stems from his anti-gay, homophobic assault of which he hid in what he called humor. A part of his so-called humor piece is when he described how he would stab his son if he felt his son was gay. Hearing this, I got flashback to my own experience with my mother.
Reading the after-effect and how he's being called to task, of course you knew the generic
" I'm sorry" was to come along, yet I have to ask him what is he really sorry about? The fact that he was called out for his hate or was he truly sorry that he sent a message that those who are gay deserve harm, even if it's from the parents.
Words kill.
The scary thing is that some people buy into what Tracy says and agrees with him although unlike Tracy they may not have a stage to say it aloud. You even see it on the message boards as people feel that it's comedy so what's the problem. Or it's a routine that shouldn't be taken seriously. In that argument I find so many double standards.
First as a black man his routine was filled with the word, "nigger", a hateful word of which he even attached to his son before stating how he would kill him. Every other comedian from Micheal Richards to other non-black performers, when they have used that word, there's a huge outcry yet I suppose when you're black it's okay. I wonder if my ancestors who heard the word "nigger" as their life slipped from them as they hung from the tree would feel the same.
Second to even suggest that people who are bullied are trying to get attention is such a ignorant statement and I wonder if he could ask the men and women, young and old, who were killed because of their sexuality would agree.
Lastly as an African-American man for me he gives a perfect reason why we have black men who are on the "downlow". Although as I stated in another blog "downlow" is not just black men, we also have to recognize that in the black community it's not acceptable to be gay. After hearing Tracy words and if I was his son and suppose his son was gay, there's no way I would come out.
I know for me after hearing my mother's words I didn't live the life i wanted to live. I lived the life that others thought I was supposed to live. So I pretended to be sexually attracted to girls, I displayed a machismo attitude and all the time while playing as an actor I lived a life of misery.
People are stating that maybe he's gay as those who speak the loudest about it has something to hide, yet whether he is or not, that's his business. What affects me is a public display of hate that reinforces homophobia, especially in the black community.
I do think he still owes a sincere apology but not to me or to others. I think the apology should be directed to his son as a parent should be a parent and love the life they brought into the world and not use their child as a punchline in such a vicious way. That's where the sorry should begin.
I repeat words kill no matter if you wrap it in a song, a joke or a warning. If Tracy is sincere in his apology, he should speak to the families whose children were killed. He should donate to agencies that are fighting to end the stigma. He should simply shut up and take some old school advice, if you can't say something nice, then don't say nothing at all. And to quote Sidney J. Harris, “We have not passed that subtle line between childhood until..we have stopped saying "It got lost," and say "I lost it"
Tracy Morgan you have lost it!

When Will the Church Get It!

"If children start to believe that it's okay to be gay then they will 

think it will okay to be a pedophile or have sex with animals."

This is quoted word for word from pastor Dr. Ronald Ferguson of Antiloch 

Church of God based in Harlem. He was referring to the second 

annual celebration of gay pride in Harlem called Harlem Pride. 

When I read this in the NY Daily News last week I went through many emotions,

shocked, disappointment, anger and disbelief that someone who not only 

calls himself a pastor but also calling himself a doctor would say something

so asinine.

But really I should not have been surprised as the church position; 

especially black churches that are stuck in the past along with the

irrelevant NAACP.

That'll be another entry. For me it seems to be older voices, or if we have 

to call them leaders, who are stuck in the past and not aware of the world

changing around them.

When will churches get it? 

I know the pastor doesn't speak for all churches but in all honesty he's 

voicing what other churches are preaching to their congregation. 

And like a bad cold, that information contaminates the thinking of individuals 

who spreads their hate into the community. What's shocking is that to this day

black churches refuses to acknowledge that there are people living in the 

community who are not only gay but also living with HIV. And that around those
same churches people of color are the ones who are the highest rate of getting

HIV. They are invisible because of the message that comes from the pulpit. 

When it comes to rates of infection, Harlem is one of the hardest hit areas. 

And to have someone make such a comment and have it in print only keeps stigma 

of being gay alive and blocks those who look to the churches as a tapestry of 

their well being.

It also forces gay members to enter the church in silence.

Personally I would never be part of a church that fuels hatred and ignorance, 

Yet not everyone has my or even your temperament.In the black community, 

although they perform the actions, they are many who still don't accept 

the term gay, so what the preacher is preaching they may feel doesn't apply to

them. In other words not everyone is ready to wear the rainbow colors. 
The last time I looked the role of a preacher was to lead and not to divide. 
It also strikes a hypocritical cord with me as there are some church leaders 

who hate gay people during the day yet seem to find an attraction to us during

the darkness of the night. Isn't that right Bishop Eddie Long and those in the

church who cover up the many abuse of children. That one was for you Pope. 

But we don't talk about the elephant in the room.
Yet in all fairness not all leaders of churches shares the same sentiment 

and we can't lump them all together. There are some black churches that have

made an affirming environment regardless of who you are. And I've also met 

some individual pastors of color who has a "come as you are" philosophy. 
Aside from them though I think for many in the church the only time they find

comfort with us is when we put a wig on and call ourselves Madea or if we're 

entertaining you in the choir causing you to clap and stomp your feet to 

the singing. 
People quote from the bible but also those same people conveniently tell 

you passages which are taken out of context. If we really were to follow 

the many things the bible called a sin, we would all be sinners.

Yet it's better to take passages out of context to suit their agenda.

Speaking to kids, the one thing I stress to them is that no matter what 

you believe that everyone deserves respect and if your God tells you to hate

any of his children, I would start to question what God I'm worshiping.

Scriptures are meant to elevate not denigrate.

This hate is getting old and I know for me my gospel is one of inclusion

so I ask preachers and those who blindly follow, what's yours?

For the pastors who speak out against the Harlem Pride, 

I say don't pray for me, I'll pray for you.

It seems you need it more than me.

Man's Best Friend

I'm in a situation where I have two souls that require much of my attention when I'm home. They may not realize it but they have it good. They don't have to go to work. They can sleep all day if they chose. When it comes to food, not only do they don't have to make it but it's served to them on time each day. The best part is that they don't have to pick up after themselves, literally. But it's a relationship I wouldn't trade for anything.
Hope and Parker.
My two beagles that make it a pleasure to come home. Even before I turn the key in the door you can hear the excitement, even though I left them alone for the last 7 hours. In some relationships with men, if you leave them alone for 7 hours you get attitude, but my girls have nothing but love which consists of running in a circle and planting kisses on me.
If you read some studies, they warn those who have HIV about pet ownership because of the compromised immune system and the precautions one should take as pets may transmit some diseases.
For me I throw that caution out the window as my pets have given me nothing but calm, affection and showed me the ability to love. Regardless of the risks, many people living with HIV choose to keep pets because they are fun to care for and have many psychological advantages. Pets cannot only provide entertainment and companionship; they can comfort people-both in sickness and health.
I'm not ashamed to say it but sometimes I prefer to be around my dogs than people. I love each for their different personality.
Hope-who was the first one to join the family, was something as a puppy. She was stubborn. To the point we got kicked out of puppy training class. Even today she is the most mischievous. She's discovered the dishwasher and knows that when loading it there's still some food on the plates, so if you dare leave the door down she'll be in the dishwasher trying to do the job of the machine. Or the time when out of the blue she jumped into the Hudson River, just because, but she swam back as if nothing was wrong. And I'm still trying to figure out how she's getting into the tall trash can that you have to push a pedal to open. Even in our stare down battle, she'll win by rushing to me and giving me five minutes of kisses all over my face. How can I compete with that? I even wonder if in her previous life if she was a cat as she doesn't like to be held yet at night she finds that area behind your knees and cuddles close.
Then there's Parker. She's the opposite of Hope as she always wants to be held or touched. If I was to enter the house without bending down to give her a kiss she would follow me until I submitted. One thing about her is that she loves the sound of cellophane. If I want to enjoy a Kraft single cheese slice, I have to turn on the kitchen faucet to drown out the noise of her hearing the cellophane. But if she hears that sound, there she is!
They have truly been true companions and the greatest thing is that they just want to be close to you. I know the hardest part for me will be when they leave as they have a short life span, yet I read something that was so profound.
It said that the reasons dogs life are so short is because they come into the world ready to give love with no conditions and they share this gift with humans so that they can learn to love the same way. I've learned that lesson well.
I have a hard time to thinking of any human who can do the same.
They make me want to manage my HIV as I know they depend on me to be there. And as long as I have breath they can count on that.
Make no mistakes pet ownership is not easy as there's a huge commitment, but believe me if you're tired of dealing with the drama of humans, pets make it so worth having!
They truly are this man's best friend!!