The Picture I Didn’t Hang

This World AIDS Day, I am moved by an image I walk by every day in my home, and an opportunity I took way too long to realize.

The photo shows a gay couple in the foreground of the AIDS quilt with the Capital Building in the background. From the moment I first saw it, as a senior in high school in 1997, it thrummed with trauma and triumphant, hopeful love. It’s the kind of moment that my cousin, Miguel, has captured throughout his art career. I love him for it, and I loved receiving this framed print as a graduation present.

AIDS awareness was important to me in high school; I danced at the AIDS Dance-A-Thon, raised money, did charity walks, whatever my privilege and do-gooder instincts could come up with. It was the 90s, and the wave of terror over contracting AIDS from toilet seats and casual touch had passed. But the movie Philadelphia and the Broadway show Rent figured prominently in my high school experience, and we looked for whatever ways we could cut against the still prevalent stigmas and trauma of the AIDS epidemic.

As I packed up my things for my college dorm room, however, I failed to stand up to my own fears of stigma. The piece clearly featured a gay couple; what if, by having it in my room, new acquaintances assumed that I, too, was gay? My romantic life being pretty limited already, I feared this possibility more than I would ever have admitted at the time (and more than I would like to admit now). I discreetly left it behind, tucked into a closet; I promised myself that I would find space for it by second semester.

Nearly twenty years later, I cleaned my childhood room once again (this time looking into every last crevice), and rediscovered my photo, still tucked in that corner. It still makes my heart pound with heartache and hope — that time, my view was laced with guilt as well.

How had this beautiful piece sat silently all these years?

I showed the piece to my husband, who loved it, but was confused by the strength of my desire to hang it up.

We found a place, right in our hallway, where I pass it every day. It is not only a reminder of that moment; it is a reminder to me, to stand up, speak out, and never let causes I care about take a back seat to my fears of creating discomfort (for myself or others). It is art inspiring me to action, even if it is 20 years late.

Better late than never.

So here, too is a belated message: Thank you, Miguel, for your artistry, and to you and Marilyn for showing me how it is done. I hope that, if nothing else, our home is always full of art that points us toward a better world.