Horacio: Long story short, the quarantine made our March 21st date impossible so the day that the stay at home order was enacted in Philly (March 17th) we got a call from the chapel offering to sign our marriage license that day so it wouldn’t expire. We like to think of this “time off” as our honeymoon.

Besides binging televisions shows and desperately trying to come up with recipes that accomadte to our limited knowledge cooking, we’ve embarrassingly enough been spending many days playing Fornite on the couch without cat and dog. We introduced our sobrinos to it (yeah, not the other way around) and since then we’ve been playing together over the phone and it’s been a cute bonding experience since we can’t go visit them at the moment. When we need a little movement we switch to Just Dance or go for a little walk when it’s nice out. We also got to volunteer for Prevention Point here in Philly by helping put together bags of clean syringes and other sanitary measures for the community. When I told mom I had to reassure her we were more than six feet apart in a big room with masks gloves on. We’ve perfected the deep clean, our bathtub and stove have never been shinier. We’ve also become each others personal barber and our hair has changed color like three times. We’re homebodies to begin with so staying at home hasn’t been too strange but we do miss our friends.

Eddie: During quarantine, I have learned that in life, you just don’t have control over the situation that happens around you. What you do have control is how you chose to respond to it. That there is a difference between staying home voluntarily and staying home involuntarily. I like one but not the other. I’ve also learned that I’m much less of a introvert that I thought I was. We’ve both been missing hanging out with friends and being social. Also that Hori and I can sleep a lot haha. But I could probably become completely nocturnal if left unchecked.

Horacio: Personally, I’ve learned to be less serious. I’m the dramatic one and Eddie is the level headed peacekeeper if you will. When I found out we both wouldn’t be working, it stressed us both out but his way of conquering stress is contagious. Of course there are moments of tension when we’re not on the same page, and I’ve learned to detect when those moments are coming and diffuse them by clearing the air before we grow silent. Mostly, I’ve learned that I really have married my best friend and that our connection is genuine and I’m lucky to be able to spend this historical moment with him.

Horacio & Eddie (He/Him/His)

Philadelphia, PA

interviewed (yesterday)& photographed (a few months ago) by: louie a. ortiz-fonseca

Growing up, I’ve always considered music to be a huge part of my life. I used to sometimes joke about how I’d leave my current city and one day become a popular DJ in Miami or Atlanta. While my dreams of being a DJ haven’t clearly panned out into a serious decision, social distancing, COVID-19, and virtual parties have re-sparked my interest in creating playlists and having people dance to tunes. Throughout COVID-19 I’ve celebrated/held down the music on birthdays for myself, family members, and friends. This was all done through folks coming together to decide on a time, wishing the individual happy birthday, and jamming to tunes so loud that my neighbors sometimes knocked.

When my friends first suggested that I have a “Virtual Birthday Party,” I was shook. As my birthday got closer, I began to take the option seriously and how it was a low-level activity where no costs were involved. Considering that we were all advised to stay at home, I continued to ask myself “Well, what are people going to be doing at 8PM on Thursday anyway?” We quickly set up a webinar link, sent a calendar invite, and spread the word on social media.

To see my family members and friends on several screens and webinar apps showed me how it was probably in my best interest to virtually celebrate with people. For instance, if I were going to have a party in person, most of the people that joined wouldn’t have been able to come anyway due to locations, etc.

As weird as it may have initially seemed to host a virtual birthday party, and now DJ for others, I’m reminded of my passions: community and dancing. No matter what here’s what I’ll always remember that during this time of social isolation: the beat goes on.

many of the important moments and even many of the not-so-important moments often times play out in my memory through music. for example, every time i hear “unbreakable” by alicia keys, i am reminded of the night i tested hiv positive. i was in the car with my best friend on the way to his house trying to process this new health reality when “unbreakable” began to play. in that moment, i thought, “for real, universe? this song? right now? does everything have to be like a mellow-dramatic made-for-TV movie with me?” i actually said it out loud. i know this because best friend and i laughed. then cried.

music grounds me. always has. which is why i write a lot about music, specifically the music of the 1990s. and these past few weeks have been unlike anything i have experienced emotionally, mentally and physically. well, i can think of something that may come close to this experience but this “short” post is already dramatic enough. anywho, just as i created mixed-tapes for my friends and family members in the 1990s to express my love and gratitude, i have created a spotify playlist that includes songs that has been helping me to survive. i humbly share it with you all.

thank you for your love and continued support. may this playlist give you some or all of the things it has given me.

enjoy, dance, sing, and be safe.

About two week ago, I did the very rare thing of going live on Instagram. I asked my comrade and my good, good gurlfriend Abdul-Aliy Muhammad to join me as we discussed “How to Survive A Plague…Again.” For about an hour and a half, Abdul and I talked about what it was like to live through the AIDS epidemic as it was in the 1990s. We shared stories about bearing witness as our mothers navigate and provide support to those living and dying during a time when Black and Brown communities were left to their own devices. As a few dozen viewers watched and engaged with our Instagram chat, we shared how we were coping with the current COVID-19 pandemic and how we can honor and look to the work of poz activists of the past who created an organizing, mobilizing and survival guide for people surviving a plague. We landed on the Denver Principles.

So to continue that conversation and to honor the requests of several viewers who joined us during that chat,  here is Abdul-Aliy giving a brief history of the Denver Principles and how, 30 years later, the principles are still relevant.

The Denver Principles is a radical document, its contents fit on one page, but the words are sublime and pointed. The drafters of the principles stormed the National Lesbian and Gay Health Conference, which took place in June 1983. This conference, held in Denver, Colorado, would host the Second National AIDS Forum. At the closing presentation of the forum, Richard Berkowitz led the unrolling of a banner that read “Fighting For Our Lives” and read their declaration: “We condemn attempts to label us victims” that “implies defeat” and suggests that we are helpless. “We are People With AIDS” demanding support and not a “scapegoat” to “blame” for “the epidemic or generalize about our lifestyles.” The crux of this declaration was to make clear that autonomy is still resident in our bodies, that we have the right “as full and satisfying  sexual and emotional lives as anyone else.” These words at a time when oppressive messaging told HIV positive people that they could no longer be fully seen as human because they seroconverted.

“Any revolution of the body owes its indebtedness to many enslaved people who found themselves at the behest of white supremacist structures of control, experimentation and intentional infection, such as the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment.”

These principles changed the relationship between medical provider and patient, expertise and care were held by both the AIDS patient and doctor. It was a bold repudiation of paternalism and showed the variance between those impacted by the disease and the ever present judgment of caregivers.  Berkowitz and Michael Cullen went on to pen “How To Have Sex In An Epidemic” stating that “sex doesn’t make you sick, diseases do” and offering examples of how to contain STIs from a “closed circle of fuck buddies” to “jerk off clubs” in what became truly iconic writing. Any revolution of the body owes its indebtedness to many enslaved people who found themselves at the behest of white supremacist structures of control, experimentation and intentional infection, such as the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment.

Today we face an unprecedented strain on the already inadequate and anti-black U.S. healthcare infrastructure. This problem, coupled with a president that seems to be wearing no clothes, makes for a deadly combination. The rationing of care to those who have severe symptoms, which is discriminatory, is already happening. In Alabama, POZ reports that the state’s “pandemic guidelines recommend winnowing out people with certain medical conditions” including AIDS. Black women are being told that they aren’t a priority for COVID-19 testing and then later dying of the disease. Recent data reveals that COVID-19 is killing Black people  in large numbers. 70 percent of COVID-19-related deaths in Chicago are of Black people. This is being reflected in New Orleans and Milwaukie.

This means that organizing around something that models the Denver Principles would be just as needed now as it was then. A nation in crisis will seek to allocate resources to those deemed desirable by the system. This means that communities who are already stigmatized, marginalized, and given shoddy medical care will be the most vulnerable. Elderly, immunocompromised, and houseless people will be ravaged by COVI-19 without movements organized to ensure they will receive the care they deserve. Incarcerated people are also at a higher risk for sickness due to the lack of sufficient sanitation behind bars. I think we should be demanding the following:

1. Free and adequate healthcare that allows everyone the ability to fight for their lives.
2. Care that isn’t rationed, withheld, or denied.
3. The right to resuscitation and that DNRs (Do Not Resuscitate orders) aren’t universally applied.

Abdul-Aliy A. Muhammad is a poz organizer and writer from Philadelphia.