The labor to advocate for community care
Happy Pride, the CDC Kills Us
Earlier this year, as I was getting coffee, somebody who had gone to an art show of mine in 2017 came up to me and asked, “When are you doing a show again?” I responded, “Well, I haven’t done one due to the pandemic,” to which his response was, “We’re not in it anymore!” I laughed and responded, “Yes, we are.” That idea from others’ is why I have largely limited myself from doing gallery shows again.
Before 2020, I held beliefs that were rooted in my own internalized ableism. I felt in competition with my peers, instead of sharing resources freely. I really didn’t grasp the concept of community care. I used to think I didn’t owe anybody anything. As I began to expand my point of view, I saw the deep importance of care, how we actually do owe each other everything, and how masking (among other considerations) plays such an integral part in community care.
When COVID began, I was a strict masker; I let my guard down a little after a year after taking the vaccine but went back to masking these last few years after learning the incompetency of the vaccines I received. I haven’t been the perfect mask wearer, yet I am actively working to ensure I do what I can to keep others safe regarding COVID mitigation. I rarely attend indoor events that don’t require masking. My partner and I started “Community Art Making” sessions a year ago, every second Sunday of each month, at our local Queer Feminist book store Charis Books, where the event is always “masks mandatory.”
When I did eventually get COVID last Summer, it caused me to get Long Covid after only one infection, leaving me with severe chronic pain relating to my scoliosis, pain I never previously had.
Last year I was asked to be in an art residency where I’d create a group show with a group of Queer youth in Ohio where I’d go there for a month to develop a show for Pride month.
At the time of talking to the organization, I didn’t really think there’d be much hesitation for me to implement COVID safety precautions. The org knew I was Disabled, and it seemed like I’d have free rein when it came to cultivating the space to make it unique to our liking. I had been in talks with them for a year before beginning the residency, where I would make art with the young artists. I loved that I could work with a group of LGBTQIA+ youth to make art together and hold space for each others’ experiences. Time with the young artists was so wonderful. I had the privilege of getting to know them on a personal level, and I was excited about the work they were making.
As my residency was coming to a close, we received a tour of the gallery space. One of the young artists I worked with asked the staff member giving us a tour, “Will this show be masked mandatory?” I could hear reluctance in the staff member’s voice. “Well… we don’t want to really leave people out…. we can say ‘masks encouraged.’” I remember responding something along the lines of how that won’t get people to mask. I often see events trying to look inclusive by using the phrasing “masks mandatory,” but it shows me and other Disabled people/COVID-conscious folks that these organizations throwing the events don’t want to do the work to have tough conversations about COVID mitigation with the people who attend the events. What “masks encouraged” says to Disabled/High-Risk people who may want to go to an event is: “This space is not safe for you. There WILL be unmasked people present.” I also felt it was ironic that the staff member felt that “masks required” would leave people out, when the group show that we were putting on was solely a Queer show, with only LGBTQIA+ artists.
Soon after the tour and talking further with the staff member, the org agreed to make the show “masks mandatory.” I thus began the process of recruiting the local mask bloc in the area to help hand out masks at the show as well as give people information regarding the importance of covid mitigation. Mask Blocs have popped up across the U.S. as mutual aid organizations that provide free masks and covid education, among other things for their communities. With this show being a Queer show, I really wanted to have the young artists I worked with see mutual aid in action, as it is an important part of being in Queer community for me. So as my time closed in Ohio, I was excited! We got the show to be masks mandatory and I’m able to show these artists I worked with some mutual aid in action. I returned back to Atlanta where I was to wrap up things in preparation for the show and return for the opening which would occur in May.
About two weeks after I returned to Atlanta, I got an email from the arts org saying they “couldn’t make the show masks mandatory” due to “cdc guidelines.” The organization claimed they had no jurisdiction to make it “masks mandatory.” The irony to list “CDC guidelines” as an excuse not to make the show masks mandatory was potent, especially with how terrible the CDC response to AIDs crisis was. Around the same time, there was talk about a Mask ban in North Carolina, my home state. I, as a Disabled person, was already feeling deeply frustrated in NC and, frankly, scared. So I sat with the email and at first I decided to meet with them the following week to share my frustrations, but I was ruminating and needed to just send them my thoughts. I sent a long email, and while I won’t share the *whole* email, I’ll share some things that I said.
“You have the jurisdiction to make this event ‘masks mandatory.’ You have the power to change your policy for an event that you are running… The term (masks encouraged) also implies that COVID only is a risk to Disabled or Immunocompromised people and that ‘healthy’ people have nothing to worry about.
60% of Covid transmissions are from asymptomatic cases. So if an asymptomatic person comes to our opening, someone who doesn’t know they’re sick, or tests beforehand, they won’t mask. One-way masking doesn’t work as well, and leaving the decision up to the individual is not enough to prevent transmission and keep people safe. Enforcing a masking policy ensures that these attendees don’t spread any airborne diseases, which includes COVID.”
I told the organization that they knew from the start they were working with a Disabled artist and that if they don’t make the show “masks mandatory,” I won’t attend.
A few days after sending that email, I had a meeting with the org where they said they’d make it “masks mandatory.” I was glad they did it, and yet, by that time, I was so emotionally exhausted by just how much advocating I had to do to make that happen. Advocating for ourselves can sometimes feel draining, especially when it is tied to our own personhood. Especially when you are met with so much hesitation and combativeness. I remember times when I’d ask people who I thought were friends to caption their videos, only to be met with combativeness. My asking for this show to be “masks mandatory” was to ultimately help keep everyone involved safe. If more people get sick, there’s less chance for any of us to sustain and help create a better world.
As the opening inched closer, I had a medical emergency regarding my hearing aid, which prevented me from traveling. I communicated with the org I couldn’t make it, and they said they’d still honor the ask to make it masks mandatory. They did though, decide to handle it on their own versus working with the mask bloc. By that point though, between the exhaustion of so much labor advocating for myself and the pain I was physically navigating with my medical emergency, I just had to let it be and thus, the show went on without me being there.
I can’t and will not always be the perfect advocate for myself or my communities. I have made mistakes in the name of advocacy, and I am sure I will moving forward. The beauty of being Queer and Disabled is that I learn something new every day. I learn new ways of care and I try my best to remain open to that. Pride started out as a riot, and arguably it still is one. Pride still asks us to advocate for those in our communities by any means necessary in order to get the liberation we, as Queer people, deserve.
