Jason, this is such a lovely tribute. I wondered, at the end of your piece when you talked about remembering for and with your sons, if there’s a panel for your uncle in the AIDS memorial quilt. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a chance to see a part of it exhibited ( as I’m sure you know, it is too big — over 50k panels—for the entire quilt to be shown) but seeing it in Cambridge back in 1990 was an extraordinary experience for me though the part I was seeing was not where I had lost friends and acquaintances ( I was a grad student in Berkeley and had moved from there to the east coast for an academic job in 1987). I have often taught the quilt in visual culture and critical theory courses and students who were too young to know the era when so many perished have been inspired to seek out exhibits of the quilt and have written me even years later about how it moved them in ways similar to or greater than experiences they had with the Vietnam war memorial or the cemeteries of the Normandy landings. I wondered myself if anyone in my distant family made a panel for a second-cousin-once-removed who was like your uncle, closeted in a small town in southern Missouri until he finally tried to come out and most of his relatives turned their hypocritical fundamentalist backs on him ( I only learned he had died twenty years after the fact from another second cousin from a far more tolerant branch of the family who came to my mom’s memorial service). I barely knew the cousin who was dead before age 30 but I think of him whenever I teach the quilt and hope someone from all those quilting-bee ladies in podunk Missouri secretly honored him with their embroidery skills. If you want to know more about the history of the quilt, the writings of Marita sturken are a good place to start (tangled memories Is the book but there were articles before and after). Your uncle would surely be very proud of you. Thanks for your great work and writing. All best j
Jason, this is so achingly beautiful -- it made me cry a little. Those we never got to know, at least not as we might have wanted to, are a special kind of soul we carry with us. Talking about them, even with the little we know, helps us keep near to the things that matter most ... like our relationships, the awareness that each day is a gift, etc. I don't want to wax poetic, only tell you that this post meant something to me.
Jason, this is such a lovely tribute. I wondered, at the end of your piece when you talked about remembering for and with your sons, if there’s a panel for your uncle in the AIDS memorial quilt. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a chance to see a part of it exhibited ( as I’m sure you know, it is too big — over 50k panels—for the entire quilt to be shown) but seeing it in Cambridge back in 1990 was an extraordinary experience for me though the part I was seeing was not where I had lost friends and acquaintances ( I was a grad student in Berkeley and had moved from there to the east coast for an academic job in 1987). I have often taught the quilt in visual culture and critical theory courses and students who were too young to know the era when so many perished have been inspired to seek out exhibits of the quilt and have written me even years later about how it moved them in ways similar to or greater than experiences they had with the Vietnam war memorial or the cemeteries of the Normandy landings. I wondered myself if anyone in my distant family made a panel for a second-cousin-once-removed who was like your uncle, closeted in a small town in southern Missouri until he finally tried to come out and most of his relatives turned their hypocritical fundamentalist backs on him ( I only learned he had died twenty years after the fact from another second cousin from a far more tolerant branch of the family who came to my mom’s memorial service). I barely knew the cousin who was dead before age 30 but I think of him whenever I teach the quilt and hope someone from all those quilting-bee ladies in podunk Missouri secretly honored him with their embroidery skills. If you want to know more about the history of the quilt, the writings of Marita sturken are a good place to start (tangled memories Is the book but there were articles before and after). Your uncle would surely be very proud of you. Thanks for your great work and writing. All best j
What a wonderful tribute. Had he lived, I am sure he would be honored to have an ally like you on his side.
Jason, this is so achingly beautiful -- it made me cry a little. Those we never got to know, at least not as we might have wanted to, are a special kind of soul we carry with us. Talking about them, even with the little we know, helps us keep near to the things that matter most ... like our relationships, the awareness that each day is a gift, etc. I don't want to wax poetic, only tell you that this post meant something to me.