It probably wasn't a coincidence that I waited until after the death of my only surviving parent to join the 1993 March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation.
Anthony, Ted, Barnet and I drove down to DC in Herr Cucaracha, the perfect protest vehicle. More than one fellow traveller flashed us a peace sign on the New Jersey Turnpike. Christine put us up at her apartment not long before she married Tom, on the left. Here we are on the mall with the nation's most prominent phallic symbol rising behind us.
Of course the despicable crazies were out in force.
But there was eye candy galore.
I wore Ted's American flag t-shirt. It still emerges from my clothes museum on Independence Day! Barnet is sporting one of Ted's tees, too.
Some protesters played dead in front of the White House.
I'd lost David, my only live-in boyfriend, to AIDS less than two years earlier. He was almost 39.
Organizers of the march had spread the AIDS quilt out on the mall. Anthony squatted next to a panel representing one of his students at the Fashion Institute of Technology. More than two decades later, the internet offered a different opportunity to pay tribute to David.
No comments:
Post a Comment