Keith Haring

SILENCE=DEATH

As COVID-19 cases in the U.S. continue to rise at an alarming rate, and the shelves of our local grocery stores become barren of disinfecting cleaners, toilet paper, and basic essential household items, I’m triggered and taken aback to a time in my young life when public panic was as palpable as it is today. I’m reminded of the days I’d vacillate between discernable fears and my meek attempts of mustering any hope to defeat a plague that was causing massive devastation to the gay community.

AIDS.

I was living in an anti-gay religious and political environment; with a dark cloud of AIDS hovering above and shadowing my every move. Everywhere I turned, every headline I read — people were dying of a mysterious illness. There was a disease in full momentum, eradicating an entire community, one by one. And there wasn’t much to help ease the fears evoked from the daily images witnessed on the battlefield. HIV (human immunodeficiency virus) had just been discovered as the cause of AIDS, but AIDS was nowhere near being tolerated much less accepted. AIDS was being viewed by the eyes of homophobia. AIDS had become a political tool, and gay men had become the targets of hate and discrimination to the tune of a shameful Reagan administration endorsing AIDS as “nature’s revenge on gay men.”

Then I discovered Keith Haring.

Although I didn’t know him personally; I always felt a connection to Keith Haring. During my coming of age in NYC in the late-80s, he was the perpetual downtown fixture. Whether it was his whimsical cartoonish zapping spaceships, barking dogs, or glowing crawling babies – I was sure to run into one of his sketches, murals, or the man himself. A charismatic and considerate guy, he’d always send a smile my way, every time our eyes met. Whether I spotted him at the now-forgotten galleries of SoHo (yes Dorothy, SoHo was not always the outdoor mall it is today) or behind the velvet ropes of “The World”, “The Palladium” or “Area” – little did I know back then, Haring would be leaving us in less than five years, much less realize the profound effect his artwork would have on my life. Keith used art to express himself in a time when many young gay voices were either suppressed or like mine, downright self-censored. Haring’s work spoke to millions and his street culture concepts of birth, sexuality, and death helped opened a door to a much-needed dialogue among the youth of the time. His artwork which was very political; and often sexual helped me carve out a path from my tortured inner dialogue regarding my own sexuality, allowing me to channel and vocalize my anxieties – a catalyst for my direct leap into social action.

 

 

To take control of my life, and calm the overwhelming sensation of helplessness; I took it upon myself to learn as much as I could regarding AIDS as well as “gay rights.” The use of the initial-ism LGBTQ+ was just in a gestational phase and would eventually come to fruition soon after. Inspired by Haring and his work, I delved deep and embraced his passion for basic human rights, social justice, and breaking the silence.

I look back now and realize; that was the beginning of my own journey; a course set on self-discovery; within time found the self-acceptance and wherewithal to take life on; one experience at a time, one little change at a time. Today I find my strength remembering those days. Thirty years ago, the world lost an amazing talent but today I celebrate and remember the man whose art and creativity gave a voice to the voiceless.

Keith Haring once said, “I don’t think art is propaganda; it should be something that liberates the soul, provokes the imagination and encourages people to go further.”

I wholeheartedly agree. Thank you, Keith Haring.