Briefly - CD8 T cells - The Body

wholistic PictuRe
sue salTmarsh
self-identity
someTImes The ways we humans haVe of seParaTIng
ourselves into “us” or “them” seem endless. There are the
obvious—physical characteristics, race, age, etc.—and the notso-always-obvious—religion,
educational background, political
philosophy, etc.—and the sometimes-hidden—sexual orientation,
HIV or other medical status, financial status, etc. I could break it
down to pet preference, sports team affiliation, even what you like
on your pizza. The fact is that we, as a species, are widely varied
in our plumage, habits, and habitats and yet we are also one big
(dysfunctional) family.
When I first heard the ubiquitous,
public health-speak “MSM,” I thought it
was a joke. I mean, really. And we’re all so
used to “LGBT” by now that even straight
politicians use it. But recently, an e-mail
appeared with the following: LGBTQI2-S
(Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender,
Questioning, Intersex, and Two-Spirited).
Seriously???
I understand that, for academic and
clinical purposes, perhaps such strings of
letters and numbers might provide a way to
categorize people that cuts down on word
count and typing effort, but it seems to me
it also obscures the fact that the people
being categorized are indeed people.
I’ve often argued that the recent
advances in civil rights for gay and lesbian
people are because the younger generation
(and those of us oldies with open minds)
understands that being gay is not entirely
about what you do with your genitalia, but
more about how you live your life and who
you choose to live it with.
Back in the ‘80s, when Carol Shaw
began a movement towards fat acceptance
with BBW (Big Beautiful Woman)
magazine, I weighed over 300 pounds.
Even then, though I indulged occasionally
in the fantasy presented by BBW, I knew
the difference between fantasy and reality.
I refused to be called a BBW—the notion
that all large women are beautiful is as
absurd as the idea that all women of any
size are beautiful (let’s face it, ladies, some
of us must rely on having, as my grandmother
put it, “other things to recommend
you”)—and I refused to define myself by
my weight. I was, and am, a lot more than
numbers on a scale (or a glucose meter,
for that matter), just as my dear friend Sal,
who calls himself “a big ‘mo,” is way more
than an “MSM.”
Some maintain that those to whom the
MSM label refers are completely oblivious
to the fact that it is applied to them by
social workers, medical providers, counselors,
and academics. But if they do know
and they accept it, what does that say
about their self-identity? If they somehow
prefer those three letters to the other
three, is it any wonder that it’s their very
population that is seeing the highest incidence
of new infections? No matter how
they think of themselves on the categorization
continuum, too many either don’t
know or don’t want to know their HIV
status, perhaps in part because they don’t
even fully know or accept themselves.
How do we as a society hope to
achieve true acceptance of all varieties of
humankind when we insist on inventing
“dividers” that keep us from knowing and
appreciating ourselves and each other?
I’ve never slept with a woman, mostly
because I find my “sisters” to be way less
trustworthy than the men in my life, but
once in the summer of 1982, while working
at a regional theatre, I got drunk at a wrap
party with a woman named Nan and we
had a lovely long kiss. I had no inclination
to go further, but I’ll tell you this much—if
we had indeed spent the night in orgasmic
bliss together, there is no way on Earth I
would ever allow “WSW” to define me.
In the end, aren’t we all basically PSP
(People Who Have Sex with People), even
if only with ourselves?
Breathe deep, live long.
POsitiVElyAwARE.COM sEPtEMBER+OCtOBER 2011 | 45