Reflections from the Quilt
by Sandy Hay


In the somber stillness of the morning they came - the curious, the grieving, the hopeful, and the
defiant. All brought together to pay tribute to those who had moved on, leaving an indelible mark
on the lives they had left behind. That they had lived, loved and been loved would now never be
forgotten. Each one was now memorialized by a square of cloth, tailored with love, stitched with
tears and crafted with memories.

Some squares showed a life lost in anger, screaming defiantly at those who had allowed this
disease to spread, unconcerned until it was too late. Others paid tribute to those who left this life
believing that all happens according to a greater plan. Still others paid homage to those too young
to even understand that what was happening to them was connecting a nation together.

I stood in the middle of it all; a sea of cloth, people and emotions. Until a few short months ago I
hadn't even known anyone who had known someone who had died of AIDS. This whole segment
of society had been as foreign and as distant to me as another country whose starving children I
only had to witness on television ads for charities. Suddenly, however, I was in the midst of
people sharing stories of loved ones, crying over their losses, angry over the indifference that I too
had been a part of. Now, also, I had dear friends who were intimately concerned over what was
swirling around me. I witnessed their pain and their fear and wondered how I could ever go back
to the safety of indifference that I had enjoyed before.

Away from the quilt we celebrated each other and our new friendships. I saw lovers sharing
embraces openly, perhaps for the first time. The happiness in their eyes took my breath away, as
did the stories of how they lived in fear of showing their love in the communities where they lived
and even in their own homes. I had never known anyone who was gay before I had met these
womyn. I had come to love these people as deeply as any friends I have ever had, and a few as
closely as my own sister. That they could be so persecuted I could not understand.

I have never been more proud of being associated with a group of individuals as I am with the
people of QWorld, Transformations and WomenOnlineWorldwide. During the weekend I spent in
Washington, D.C. with the QWorld staff and guests I wore their tee shirt with pride. For me, the
big rainbow Q meant that I was a part of a group of caring, dedicated individuals who had shown
me more love and understanding in the few short months I had known them then I had perhaps
received my entire life.

I returned from the trip wearing my cap with the big rainbow Q on it and grinning from ear to ear
as I related to my family about my adventures. I began to relate to my coworkers about my
experiences as well. I showed them my cap and explained what the symbol stood for. And I began
to sense an underlying feeling of disbelief. How could I wear that? Why am I interacting with these
people? Why would I visit them? Wasn't I worried? What does my husband think about this?
Everyone seemed relieved that no one would know what the symbol really meant so I wouldn't
have to worry about wearing the cap or tee shirt in public.

Yet, I want everyone to know what it means. I would like them to understand the truth about it, at
least the truth I perceive. It is not about sexual orientation at all. It is about community and how that
community is built, not out of divisiveness and exclusion but out of acceptance and caring and
commitment. I remember at one point in D.C., I was standing looking out over all of the people
walking about the quilt. I remember thinking that when we can spend the time, energy and emotion
that is represented in the quilt to heal and connect rather than hurt and divide, then we will indeed
have a world community.

All I can do now is to make sure that my individual life stands for those high values of commitment
and inclusiveness. To hide in fear and indifference is no longer an option in these times. Where I
can, I will not tolerate indifference and I will do what I can to fight ignorance. This starts with my
own indifference and ignorance and, like ripples in a pond, when I live a life of harmony it will
affect those around me.

I had gone to DC to meet friends, but what happened there, because of the quilt has changed me
forever. A part of me is different now because of what I saw, because of the people I met and the
feelings we share. I know that the sense of community we are building will one day allow us to
recognize that our differences are our strengths and when we learn to honor everyone for who they
are, we can only grow stronger.

Storm's Interests