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   Remind me. Why am I up before the crack of dawn, sitting in a cold airport watching the sun rise and other grumpy, sleepy people wandering up and down so unoffensive they’re offensive carpets? Maybe for the same reason why I stand so often in front of City Hall and the State Building with a sign in my hand chanting badly rhymed lines. Maybe for the same reason I sit in at what seems like meeting after meeting discussing logistics and politics. I’m fighting for my life. When I first heard of this latest March on Washington, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do while so much time and resources are needing to be poured into marriage battles all over the country. At first, I thought that I could better utilize my time organizing locally one more time for one more campaign. Then I watched the continuance of the political pingpong ball bounce from state to state, from area to area for the same cause. And I heard yet again, the frantic pleas to give as much as you can, to come out and join in this big battle, and how this could be the victory that sets the precedence for future victories. And I wondered, are we really doing this the smart way? Are we really doing this the only effective way, as a number of our leaders like to say? Is there only one way to fight for our lives? I found out last night that Ryan White CARE Act funds have been frozen. A dentist friend hadn’t been paid for any of his work on his HIV positive clients. And he doesn’t know when he will. Last week, I visited another friend who is quite possibly in his last days. This morning I found out that one more good friend had died. I’m surrounded by healthcare complications, health challenges, death and dying. I have to fight for our lives. And, as someone living with the virus for over 15 years, I have to remember my own mortality and my own personal fight with death. I like to believe that what has kept me going is my dedication and stubbornness to seeing a cure; to seeing the end of this crazy, terrible, dark time in our history. I also want to believe that fighting for our lives will be seen as an equally important civil right because what good is ending workplace discrimination when you’re too sick to work? And what good is getting marriage rights when your loved one has died? Letting our brothers and sisters die from a disease that should have been eradicated by now and probably would have if it hadn’t proved to be so profitable to the drug companies and the health industry, is a true hate crime. So fighting for our lives is very much a civil right and very much a reason for us to be marching yet again in DC.
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