Date: Fri 26-Dec-1997
Date: Fri 26-Dec-1997
Publication: Bee
Author: CURT
Quick Words:
AIDS-quilt-NAMES-project
Full Text:
Lives and Memories Sewn Together through AIDS Quilt Panels
(with cuts)
BY ANDREA ZIMMERMANN
Seventy-eight names were read aloud in the small, softly lit lecture hall at
Newtown High School; a handbell echoed the memory of the vanished life of each
name. Like the virus that struck them down, those represented by panels in the
AIDS Memorial Quilt Display embraced different races, genders, economic
levels, homelands and ages.
The NAMES Project permits sections of the AIDS Memorial Quilt, currently
comprised of about 43,000 individual panels, to be displayed in many public
places. But because half of all new HIV infections occur in those 25 years old
or younger, the organization encourages displays at schools throughout the
country. The four quilt panels were brought to Newtown last week by Newtown
Youth Creating AIDS Awareness for Peers (NYCAAP), a program of Newtown Youth
Services.
"Quilts don't say anything; a panel makes no noise -- it just hangs there. Yet
it has more power, more impact than any lesson we could have taught. Just
hanging from the ceiling," said Amy Gagnon, a Newtown High School health
teacher. "Kids are sick of hearing statistics."
One of the reasons the AIDS Memorial Quilt has an impact on youth, she said,
is that it personalizes the statistics.
"Each of these is a human being. Look at how much love and caring was put into
these," said Jennifer Kelkres, a student at the high school. "My mind is blown
that so many people have died from AIDS. It's almost too much to comprehend."
And the panels often defy stereotypes about those who die from AIDS. "The
older people, most of them could have prevented it, but the little kids..."
said Jaclyn Shea, a senior. "I babysit all the time and I can't imagine if
anything happened to them. These kids have just started lives and they're
over, through no fault of their own. The little babies, they're three. Here
you see their baby blankets and pictures. That really got to me."
The spread of HIV is now estimated at 16,000 new infections a day. That is
twice the rate estimated last year by medical experts. As AIDS affects more
and more people, so grows the quilt to educate and link lives together.
"When I touch these panels, I can feel the people who made them," said Jane
Todorski, assistant director at NYS. She pointed to a panel created by the
family of Vinny Sansevero. "Look at the candy corn, the jelly beans, his pets,
the photos of him... They were so proud of him. It was a chance for them to
continue to be proud of him."
At the time he went on medical leave, Vinny was working for the government in
a job that paid $70,000 a year. One moment you are on top of the world, and
the next minute the world disappears; that's how devastating this disease can
be, said Mrs Todorski.
She views the AIDS Memorial Quilt as a healing instrument, both for those who
create the panels and those who view them. Another word for "quilt" is
"comforter," she pointed out.
By studying the panels, much about a person and those who loved him are
revealed. It may appear in the form of an embroidered spray of forget-me-nots,
or two cool cats flanking a photograph, or a child's teddy bear, or simply by
the testament "He was my friend."
Visitors to the display who crouched down to read a lower panel were moved by
the words of a daughter remembering her father, Robert T. Key, who died at the
age of 52.
"Dear Daddy,
I guess nothing ever changes. Here I am at two in the morning desperately
trying to figure out what to write and how to write it. But then again, I
guess some things do change because this time you're not sitting here next to
me patiently prodding me along and giving me ideas as you always did, and this
time it's for you..."
The quilt is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the world's
largest community art project. About 50 new panels are sent to the NAMES
Project each week, and often they are fashioned out of unexpected materials --
credit cards, love letters, photographs, sequins, wedding rings, cowboy boots,
merit badges, Christmas stockings, lace, and stuffed animals. However, some
panels are quite simple, such as the one displayed in Newtown that read:
Congressman Stewart B. McKinney, Connecticut.
Most people who went to see the quilt panels on exhibit last week did not know
those memorialized. But many were moved by the colorful pieces that literally
stitched together the intimacies of life and the tragedy of death. Viewers
wrote responses to what they saw on a sailcloth set out for that purpose.
"The quilt touched me in ways I never thought that it would. The pain I feel
for these people is immeasurable. To see how much AIDS has affected our
society is terrible. To see children writing about parents that passed away
due to this terrible disease brings tears to my eyes. To all that have lost
someone due to AIDS: Keep the faith."
"It isn't fair they had to die. The sky is the limit."
"Words can't express the feeling of hope that I have for a cure for AIDS."
"AIDS is a horrible thing and no one in the world is that bad that they should
suffer such tragedy."
"The quilt is beautiful but it shouldn't exist."
