Silence = Death

Wednesday, February 12, 2014


I was thankfully much too young to get caught up in the AIDS epidemic at a time when so little was understood about HIV.  In the early 1980s, when I was still not even ten years old, I was going through my own trauma in my paternal family of origin.  On June 5, 1981 the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report carried a story of five formerly healthy gay men living in the Los Angeles area who were all suffering from a rare lung infection.  Two had already died by the time the report was published.  This particular issue of the MMWR marked the first official report of what would later become the AIDS epidemic.

I can still vaguely recall the first time I heard about AIDS on television.  I remember watching a story on CBS News about it; the growing epidemic was being associated with the gay community in San Francisco.  I was already dimly aware of my own homosexual feelings even though I wasn't mature enough to name them as such.  Hearing about the spread of this horrible epidemic made it easy for me to repress my awareness of this aspect of my identity.  I already had enough to deal with just growing up in my family of origin.

These days certain people who align themselves with the political Right seem to think of Ronald Reagan as some gold standard by which conservatives can measure themselves today over thirty years later.  Once again American historical amnesia is at work.  Do you know offhand how much time passed after June 5, 1981 before President Ronald Reagan publicly acknowledged AIDS?  It's not necessarily a question we get asked every day.  It wasn't until September 17, 1986, over five years later, that Reagan acknowledged AIDS in communicating his intention to Congress to make the issue of AIDS a priority.  A little more than a year after that the World Health Organization declared December 1, 1988 the first World AIDS Day.  I have lost friends to AIDS despite the fact that the epidemic largely wiped out men some ten to twenty-five years older than me.  To learn more about the historical evolution of this epidemic check out this site.

As often happens with any public health crisis there were a number of slogans created to facilitate a concerted response to the epidemic.  There is one I still remember easily now: Silence = Death.  Willful silence is part of what proved lethal for some of those people who were the first to die of AIDS.  Government inaction and public apathy combined with a large dose of homophobia and paranoia were the lethal factors that allowed the epidemic to gain such a footing in the United States.  When you look through the broad sweep of history you can appreciate the lethal power of silence or being silenced as a means of oppressing those who experience injustice.


I have been thinking quite a bit about the slogan of "Silence = Death" recently.  Silence wasn't just lethal in the case of AIDS.  Silence and secret-keeping are also quite harmful to healthy relationships.  I appreciate that given my own history.  It is this proclivity to silence that is a major reason why I have walked away from active participation within my paternal family of origin.  I also appreciate the unfortunate consequences of being tight-lipped or stoic because I recently read a letter my uncle Bernhard wrote to my father in December of 1979.  I can see the subtext of how men are raised (namely in such a way that they cannot easily speak of their feelings and fears) when I read through that letter.  It pained me to read it.  I appreciated yet again how I am bucking the normative behavior of generations of my family...both on my father's side as well as my mother's side.  When people compliment me on my articulate nature one response I occasionally make is to point out that being articulate is vital to your own survival.  It isn't a coincidence I have made it this far.

Reading through this letter prompted the following thoughts:

• I have a bit of a feeling that history is repeating itself...or could easily do so.  My uncle wrote to my father about how my grandfather was difficult to communicate with regarding my mother's health: 'Papa does not want to talk about it.'  This is not surprising.  In a similar way my father did not want to talk last summer when I attempted to confront him with my own health issues.  Why o why do we repeat the same behaviors over and over again long after it's clear that those behaviors are not serving our health or future? This is not a rhetorical question.  And I have my own thoughts as to why we do this.

• My mother certainly did not forget me after she returned to Germany.  The letter notes how she inquired about my welfare.  She wanted to know how I was and when I would see her again.  I can tell she was in a lot of pain.  I was as well.

• The solution to my mother's illness was not clear.  My uncle noted how the different health care professionals had different opinions regarding what treatment to offer my mother.  This is not uncommon.  I have dealt with the same challenge of discerning what is the best course of action to take.

• Resource allocation sometimes proves to be an unfortunate impediment to getting good care.  Put another way: Cities and larger communities tend to have greater availability of care.  My mother could not get the type of care she needed because her small hometown in northwest Germany did not feature any practitioners with the specialization that she needed.  How many people suffer out there not because they do not want to seek out care but because there is no access where they are?

• Work seems to be a popular way of avoiding difficult feelings.  It appears my grandfather was doing that.  And at the end of the letter my uncle encourages my father not to work so much either.  History repeating itself it seems.

Reading through this letter I cannot help but feel such a deep sadness due to the loss and pain so many people in my family were in.  It was a difficult situation in so many respects.

I concluded years ago that the macho-man way of living (ie being stoic and holding your feelings in) does not serve me and does not serve many men.  I believe there is a better way.  A vital part of my recovery process is recognizing this reality and moving forward in a different direction...regardless of how difficult that may be.