I love being told stories. And I love telling them. The choices, the details, the emergence of the truth. One of the greatest challenges of being a storyteller, though, isn't about telling the truth, it's about choosing what truth to tell. As the epidemic has so many stories, a diversity of truths abound.
The history of AIDS is already a volatile, complex, impossible tangle of a story, with truths wrapped in fear, shame, desire, pity, hatred, blood, you-name-it. Without any reasonable evidence to suggest whether we are at the beginning, middle or end of this story, the destiny of HIV remains unknown.
Except to those whose lives have been forever impacted.
It makes the act of storytelling all the more vital, as finding the truths of living with HIV is what distinguishes the narrative of AIDS.
Like Aileen Getty. Scrappy, glamorous, soul-scarred -- she speaks the truths of rigorous survival. And as written by Judith Lewis, believe me, this is the stuff that dreams (and nightmares) are made of. In Amy Feehan's careful investigation into the long-term effects of preventive treatments for one of the most dangerous OIs, the absolute truths of PCP prophylaxis are examined. In the tableaux photography of Steven Arnold, there are truths of magic.
And I am extremely proud to have the truths of discrimination uncovered in Evan M. Forster's extensively researched feature story about a handful of people with HIV who have chosen to adopt children. The most extensive POZ investigation thus far, "The Parent Trap" is an epic story about truths of the heart in the American heartland -- Lincoln, Nebraska. With PWAs living longer lives and continuing to pursue their dreams, "The Parent Trap" shows HIV infiltrating every facet of our culture by challenging the moral boundaries, legal rights and ethical standards surrounding one of the most basic human instincts -- caring for a child. Read on.