Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
NEW YORK: GONE WITH A SPLASH
2013 is certainly giving us
reasons to celebrate in the American LGBT community: with DOMA being shut down
and Prop 8 overturned. However, there’s
also plenty of reason to mourn and help fight – yes, I’m looking at you
Russia. As important as it is to discuss
such horrific matters, the topic of conversation in this entry stems from
upcoming events taking place in my home of New York City. And more notably, the
closing of the staple club in Chelsea known as Splash.
Before I get into details let
me give you a brief history of my life as a gay man in this city. For starters, I was raised in Long Island, a
mere thirty-five minute train ride to the city.
As a family we frequented the city; I remember many-a-day-trips as a
young child in the early 1990’s with my father. One time we were on our way to
visit lady liberty (I haven’t been back since - what shame!) and I was so
scared to leave my father’s side that I remember grabbing the wrong man’s hand
and I cried until my father decided to finally come fetch me. My first gay bar experience
was in the city at the age of 19 when I finally came out of the closet as “bi”. It was 2002, I was home for college break,
and I went to a bar called Posh because this guy I was speaking to on Gay.com (yes,
Gay.com!) asked me to meet him there for a drink. Still to this day Posh is my watering hole of
choice, but at the time for years to come I spent half or my time in Chelsea
and the other half broken down between HK and the East Village.
Moving on.
Picture NYC in 2002. There were
half the gay bars in HK there are today, and Chelsea was “the place” to see and
be seen. I was a young twink so I never
really fit in there as it was covered with muscle heads; still I LOVED hanging
out in Chelsea, especially at the Big Cup and eat at Food Bar. Roxy, Heaven and
Avalon were still open. In 2004, I graduated from college and moved to Astoria,
Queens to be closer to the city I knew I wanted to call home.
Friday and Saturday nights the
conversations with friends were always, “Should we go to the HK area, East
Village or Chelsea?” And the response
was typically, “We always do Chelsea, let’s try something new.” Somehow, even if we didn’t start there, we
ended up in Chelsea. Splash bar was
frequented by me because I loved to dance and take my shirt off and I really
felt free- incidentally it was the place I experimented with “Special K” in the
downstairs bathrooms. (But, only experimented mom, I promise!)
What’s my point? With Splash now closing there has been so
many arguments as to whether or not Chelsea is a “has been” area or if New York
City’s gay culture is changing as a whole.
While I have comments I could add about both sides it seems to me that
online publications is taking well care of that so I’ll leave them to it. However, since this announcement arose there
has been something I can’t get off my mind: My generation is the forgotten
generation in the LGBT community (roughly if you were born between 1977-1987). That
can vary depending on the individual, so please don’t bite my head off if you
agree/disagree.
What do I mean the forgotten
generation? The quick answer is the generations
before and after me had advantages that we didn’t have and they don’t seem to
realize they had, whether or not they actually realized it at the time. The
world for gay guys 25 and younger today is much different than the world I
lived in before 25. The Big Cup in Chelsea was my “Grindr”. We had phones, but
it was only to call people – texting was still not fully launched. So people looked at each other in person
rather than a piece of equipment. I wonder if the young gay guys in NYC care
about the dying culture of the Chelsea area and the many memories people of my
age share with it. Then on the other side of the coin there is the older
generation. My heart goes out to them
because they’ve gone through so much to get us to where we are today and I will
be forever grateful for their efforts. They come from a world where everyone
around them was still dying of AIDS and they fought for not only LGBT rights,
but also civil rights for their health. Now, as an HIV positive man who wants
to be part of the future movement for help in that community (as well as LGBT
rights) my experience with most (not all) is that we are dismissed because we “weren’t
there.” They established these “gay ghettos” for us and I know they are
saddened to see some of them die, but when I want to share memories with them,
I am dismissed, just like I am dismissed from guys under 25. I wish I was my
age back then to be part of the disco years and to feel free and safe around my
peers rather than having to worry about getting run over by a baby stroller and
making too much noise. The point about
the older generation is they had the sense of community. I don’t have that feeling because we are all
not united in that way.
It’s bad enough that I see
these “kids” on Grindr that are around 23 years old and their headlines are “no
one over 27”. And older generations
still think me being 30 is kind of young and inexperienced. So, I’m stuck in
the middle drinking some wine alone while I type this blog – actually I’m so
old school that I had to write it down first before typing up the final piece. I
reminisce about my “good old days” - before there was Grindr and Facebook; Before
all the mom and pop stores in New York were being closed by corporations
looking to gentrify the city. So yes, I
can’t say I’m surprised that Splash is closing, and I will admit I was one of many
that heard about it stated that Chelsea is dying. But, when I say that statement I say it with
great sadness.
Sure, there is plenty of reason
to celebrate in New York that we are being welcomed by the rest of the city and
populations (mostly) and we can all comingle and live together and spread gay
run businesses throughout the city where the rent is relatively reasonable
still, but what was so bad about having a neighborhood dedicated to our community
where still to this day (whether or not gay men will admit out loud) they feel
the safest? What’s wrong with that? How
would you feel if you were told they are tearing down the house of which you
grew up?
Okay, so the management style
and the overpriced drinks, etc., wasn’t ideal anymore for attending Splash these
last few years. However, I’m looking at Splash right now as a symbol rather
than a business. It was one of the last surviving places I remember feeling gay
and free in my early days coming out.
And now my own gay history is slowly dying – and I know for many gay men
I’m not alone here.
I know we can argue that we
probably did the same thing when Chelsea was birthed for gays and we abandoned
the West Village, where it all began with Stonewall (Yet, the West Village is
still going strong for a certain population of gays – food for thought). And
then we moved from Chelsea to HK, and slowly to Harlem (and so on). One day
(and not so in the distant future) the same movement of closures will happen in
the HK area – and that’s a big WHEN not IF.
When Posh closes its doors for good I will actually cry. Who’s to blame – the city? Our community? Both?
Neither?
The culture of New York that
once was praised and envied by others is now dying and many don’t realize
it. It’s for the rich and also for a gay
community divided in their opinions and efforts. We just accept all the change
around us. While some of it good, some
is not so good. It’s time we as a community in New York start re-evaluating
what we want to see in the future of our city – and remember the large population
of us 30 and 40 year old gays who have been caught in the middle of all the
change – are begging to be heard.
Continuing down this path I
just very well may die here – as planned.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
FORGIVE ME, MY FOLLOWERS…
For I've been a distant blogger
for the past year (literally one year ago last week). But, I was distant for good reason, of
course. Actually looking back at some of
my entries on here reminded me that I wasn't in the best of places at this time
last year. It’s not that I haven’t
thought of you, or this blog. The
comments show up in my inbox on a daily basis – still to this day - and I thank
you for them. The real reason for my
disappearance was that I needed to take some time away from the HIV world to
get my live in order.
I’m happy to report that my
life indeed is in order – I have a great job, a loving family, a large support
group that keeps me strong and most importantly, stable health insurance.
Yet, the most important point I’d
like to say is that I've been re-inspired to return to my advocacy and my work
in the HIV and AIDS community. And I
thank everyone in the community, including you, for pushing me to do so. How’d it happen? Well, pull up a chair, grab a glass of wine
and I’ll tell you.
On July 7 and 8, I attended the
aaa+’s (formerly known as the ADAP Advocacy Association)in partnership with the
Community Access National Network, 6th Annual Conference entitled, “AIDS Drug
Assistance Programs: Renewing the Commitment”.
We had people of all backgrounds attend – advocates, doctors,
specialists, case workers, PLWHA, pharmaceutical representatives, individuals
in politics and more. Topics of discussion
included, but not limited to, HIV criminalization, the current state of The
Ryan White Care Act, including where it stands come time for the Affordable
Care Act (ACA), Medicaid and the pathology of HIV and its antiretrovirals.
I was asked to sit on a panel
of fellow bloggers to discuss Access to Care as it related to when I was newly
diagnosed three and a half years ago, which still seems like it was
yesterday. I’ll get back to the
background of this panel in a moment.
Before any of the meetings
began I was warmly greeted by friends and advocates – many of whom I had no
idea would remember me – that I hadn't seen in over two years since the last
time I attended aaa+’s conference. It
was after I was reacquainted with everyone had it started to dawn on me the
mistake I made for turning my back on this community. However, I do believe my breath taking was
needed for my own sanity.
Sitting on the discussions I
re-educated myself on the current stages and next steps for different advocacy
efforts. During the evening reception I
spoke with several women and we had a seemingly lucrative discussion regarding
disclosure of status. This unexpected,
yet stimulating conversation gave me an idea for my next blog entry; with the
help of Wanda Brendle Moss I’ll get a woman’s view to side with mine regarding
disclosure and how it should be addressed differently for gay men from straight
women and other categories – stay tuned.
Back to the conference. At the end of Day 2 was it time for the
bloggers to facilitate what at the time I didn't realize was going to be a most
successful breakout session. Hosted by
Robert Breining, Founder and radio host of POZIAM.com, I sat beside Candace
Montague of TheBody.com and the always lovely and entertaining Mark S. King of “My
Fabulous Disease”. We were off to the
races and each told our stories in addition to sharing our views regarding
access to care following our diagnosis.
Candace, who was able to provide her insight from an HIV negative
perspective, spoke about recently released convicts and returning them to
civilization while making sure they, too have access to care and every day
necessities. The reaction from the
audience was beyond gratifying. Here I
thought to myself prior to the start of the panel, “Why would these people care
about what we have to say?”
Boy, was I way off.
Meanwhile, the reality is that
the community does read our work(s) and care a lot more that I could have
imagined. In fact, just before the
session came to a close, the last comment during the Q&A came from a lovely
lady by the name of Terry of Philadelphia.
In a nutshell, this grandmother explained how when she learned of her
diagnosis she never felt more alone, with no one to turn to for help because
she didn't know of anyone in her life that actually had the virus. Thanks to our contribution of taking HIV and
putting it at a human perspective rather than a clinical one, she felt that she
had a family and that she wasn't
alone and was going to be, “OK”. While saying all this she began to tear up
(and so did a few others). Everyone
clapped at Terry and another woman got out of her chair to give her a hug.
Terry, from the bottom of my
heart, THANK YOU for solidifying my re-inspiration. You’re an angel in so many ways and we need
you just as much as you needed us.
The result: here I am –
returning to my blog and my YouTube page to vocalize myself, once again.
So, to all my avid followers:
Many thanks for reading, thanks for your patience and thanks for allowing me
the time for my hiatus. However, I’m
back now and ready to apply ink to the paper and reintroduce my voice,
including HIV policy, disclosure, advice for the newly diagnosed, etc., in
addition to any HIV-related topics you’d like me to discuss.
With that said let me
reintroduce my voice to those that remember me, and to those that are meeting
me for the first time:
MY NAME IS CHRISTOPHER, I’M 30
YEARS OLD, I LIVE IN NEW YORK CITY, AND I’M HIV POSITIVE AND HAPPY.
Christopher’s
info
Email: cjmyron@gmail.com (Note: HATE MAIL will be
reported)
Twitter: cjmyron
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cjmyron
Links from this post
Host
of the conference
ADAP Advocacy Association
(aaa+): http://www.adapadvocacyassociation.org/
More
info on HIV Criminalization
Sero Project: www.seroproject.com
Bloggers:
Robert Breining: www.poziam.org
Mark S. King: http://myfabulousdisease.com/ (also
find him at www.TheBody.com and the
Huffington Post)
Thursday, July 5, 2012
IT’S MY LIFE TO GOVERN, NOT YOURS TO CRITICIZE
IT’S MY LIFE TO GOVERN, NOT
YOURS TO CRITICIZE
This ongoing pattern in my life is beyond frustrating. Just when things seem to go so well for me
is when my entire world crashes before me.
What makes it worse is listening to everyone’s opinions about what I
should and shouldn’t be doing. Actually,
instead of opinions they are more like criticisms towards me. People think they have the right to say
whatever they want in judgment towards the way I live my life (as if theirs is
so perfect) without knowing anything about the demons inside me. And if there’s anything I can’t stand is when
people state the obvious to me like I didn’t consider all avenues.
For instance, when people ask me what I want to do with my life and I
don’t have an exact answer for them they freak out on me. The best is when their response is, “Well,
you need to figure that out.” You should
see their faces when I respond with, “And why is that?” No response.
When was it decided in our society that one HAD to have a plan? I’m sorry but people don’t hold jobs for
thirty plus years anymore- in fact people change careers like bed sheets these
days. Sure, I have goals and ambitions,
but I’m not one to talk about them as freely as one might think. I get annoyed when everyone seems to think
they know what’s in my best interest when they can’t figure it out for their
own lives.
Let me rewind for a second so you can understand where I’m coming from. I quit my job. It was a hectic environment filled with
ungrateful superiors and lack of productivity that made me a bitter person with
“knots on top of knots” in my back, as my friend quoted, and unnecessary
stress. Being HIV positive one of the
best medicines out there is to relieve any unwanted stress and that’s just what
I did. People told me to stay because of
the money. Of course finances are
important, but I don’t let it dictate my sanity. Next, I’ve decided that Florida isn’t the
place for me to pursue my time. It was
only supposed to be a two year pit stop so I can take a program at a local
college. When I didn’t get in I found
myself stuck in a state that lacked jobs for the unemployed and no resources
for HIV positive people.
So, I’ve been on the fence about returning to New York or trying Los
Angeles. In come the criticisms. People tell me I need to stop moving so
much. “Why?” Do they forget I had longevity recently in
New York for a few years, holding a steady job in a horrid economy? Do my close friends forget that I’ve wanted
to live in Los Angeles since I was in middle school? Not to mention does one think I enjoy moving
from place to place? A major reason not
to stay in Florida is because with a waiting list still in place for HIV and AIDS
individuals I’d be cut off from my medications and treatments. My response to my critics, “Is my health a
good enough reason to return to NY or consider CA where the programs are vastly
funded?” No response. Again, you should see their faces.
Since I was a child I allowed myself to influence my life (from the
clothes I wore to the activities in school I chose to partake in) around what
others would accept. It was about
halfway into my college years when I was also freshly out of the closet did I
sit down one day and had a long conversation with myself that made me come to a
saddened realization; I wasn’t talented at anything and didn’t have a desire to
pursue anything in particular. The only
thing I tried to do after that was to take a stand and say, “enough is
enough.” Unfortunately, I convinced
myself that I already lost precious time from doing the things I’ve wanted to
do. And as I approach thirty I’ve tried
my best to make up for the time I lost growing up isolated and finding the
things I enjoy in my time.
So, when people don’t let me be on my life and how I live it I tell
them, “I’m an HIV positive individual that made a lot of mistakes in life and
I’m trying to pay myself back for all those lost years.”
With that said no more fooling around and wasting time. It’s time for me to really focus on my
writing under the proper set of palm trees- a place I’ve wanted to be since I
was in the 8th grade- Los Angeles, California. Perhaps I’ll pick up the violin again while
I’m there- you never know.
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