Overview

"HIV-Negative is the first book published which begins to describe the emotional and psychological landscape of the uninfected after a dozen years of plague. In account after account, the real-life conflicts we face spill out and the struggles to escape or hide, resist or adjust, loom large. HIV hasn't gotten into our bloodstream; nevertheless it has twisted and distorted our identities, self-esteem, and relationships. . . . The testimony in these pages is shattering, destroying silences in the community. . . ."

--From the Foreword by Eric Rofes, San Francisco, California

HIV-Negative: How the Uninfected Are Affected by AIDS explores the psychological and social issues confronting HIV-negative gay men 10 years after the introduction of HIV-antibody testing. William I. Johnston, facilitator of a discussion group for uninfected gay men in Boston, presents a portrait of a part of the gay community largely neglected in the emergency response to the epidemic. Traumatized by repeated losses and sometimes immobilized by fear, many HIV-negative gay men find themselves asking what it means to be a "survivor" of a disaster that is not yet over.

"Finding out I was HIV-negative put me in a new position -- psychologically, socially, ethically, and philosophically -- a position very different from not knowing my HIV status," writes Johnston in the Introduction to HIV-Negative. "Suddenly I began asking myself all kinds of new questions: Do I believe my test results? Why don't I feel like telling other people my 'good' news? Will knowing I am HIV-negative influence my sexual behavior? How should I act with HIV-positive friends? Should I ask sexual partners about their HIV status? How will I feel about myself if I become HIV-positive?"

Gathering materials from interviews with more than 45 uninfected gay men in Boston and across the United States, Johnston examines how the concept of "HIV status" has profoundly altered gay culture. In this book men discuss their decisions to get HIV testing, reactions to testing negative, social and sexual relationships with HIV-positive men, attitudes toward sexual risk taking and seroconverting (becoming HIV-positive), and the emotional and spiritual consequences of surviving the AIDS epidemic when others are dying.

HIV-Negative opens a much-needed discussion about the position of the uninfected in a community devastated by plague. It is compelling reading for those who have tested HIV-negative, who are thinking about getting tested, or who are in positive-negative couples. HIV-Negative is a valuable resource for counselors, social workers, and therapists interested in the mental health of gay men, as well as for researchers and community activists working in HIV prevention.

The voices in this book raise questions that resonate within all of us: how we experience and define the meanings of sexuality, vulnerability, mortality, and responsibility in the age of AIDS.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

William I. Johnston, 32, has since 1991 been a facilitator of the Boston HIV-Negative Support Group, a peer-led discussion group sponsored by the Fenway Community Health Center. From 1987 to 1993 he worked on the hot line of the AIDS Action Committee of Massachusetts. He is a textbook editor for Houghton Mifflin Company. He lives in Watertown, Massachusetts.

EXCERPTS

I can remember what a horrible feeling it was to realize [when Brad tested HIV-positive] that it was never going to go away. That was a catharsis for me as far as accepting limitations in life. I always thought pretty much anything was surmountable. . . . But [HIV] was like a big monster that came in and took everything out of our cupboards and just threw it all around and said, "Fuck you. I'm here to stay. Learn to live around it."

--Paul Fielding, 35, chapter 6

I don't think gay men are doomed. I think the majority will survive AIDS. But I don't think I will survive it. . . . I look back at the numbers of sexual partners I had and it becomes frightening. How could I escape? It's almost like you're being thrown into a pit that has 500,000 snakes in it and you manage to escape. But you know that somewhere in your pants there is a little snake that you didn't quite shake out -- that eventually is going to bite you.

--Claude Dupont, 34, chapter 8

I've got to talk about the positive part of this relationship, and that's the day-to-day. Frank's not sick today. He's asymptomatic. . . . The disease isn't there 80 percent of the time. It's there when it has to be. And when it comes up unexpectedly, it's not as big a deal. It's manageable. Last night, we reupholstered a chair, which I had never done in my life, and neither had Frank. So the two of us sat there and experimented and reupholstered this chair. It took seven hours, and it came out beautifully. It was a project we did together, something that a normal couple would do. The disease wasn't there when it was being done -- until I stepped on a tack and he stepped on a tack. Then Frank said, "Matthew, put your shoes on." And I said, "No, why don't you?"

--Matthew Lasalle, 31, chapter 12

What are you willing to do to stay negative? . . . The way [some people] operate is to not get infected at any cost. I have to fight against wanting to judge men who are paranoid about getting infected and who will do anything to avoid it. . . . There are bigger things in life to lose than your HIV negativity: your integrity, your sense of compassion. Part of the trick here is to keep HIV in perspective.

What I'm imagining is this Faustian bargain, where you bargain that you'll never get HIV, but you lose your soul in the process. That's the struggle, to not let that happen. One of the questions you asked is what this book could do: it's somehow to prevent people from becoming zombies.

--James Douglas, 44, chapter 22