{"id":22570,"date":"2021-12-01T14:00:42","date_gmt":"2021-12-01T19:00:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/circulatingnow.nlm.nih.gov\/?p=22570"},"modified":"2024-12-19T11:06:15","modified_gmt":"2024-12-19T16:06:15","slug":"aids-posters-a-community-tool-used-to-save-lives","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/circulatingnow.nlm.nih.gov\/2021\/12\/01\/aids-posters-a-community-tool-used-to-save-lives\/","title":{"rendered":"AIDS Posters: A Community Tool Used to Save Lives"},"content":{"rendered":"

Circulating Now welcomes guest blogger Theodore (ted) Kerr to discuss his research in the AIDS poster collection at the National Library of Medicine and his experience guest curating NLM’s upcoming exhibition <\/em>AIDS, Posters, and Stories of Public Health: A People’s History of a Pandemic<\/a>.
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

\"A<\/a>
AIDS activism poster by The Silence = Death Collective, 1986<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The first piece of AIDS culture that really captured my attention was a poster at my junior high school. I remember, outside the main office, a bold, 8.5\u201d x 14\u201d, colored background that featured a small group of diverse young people posing together, looking at the camera. Beside them were words that read something like, \u201cAIDS: It is all our concern.\u201d At the bottom of the poster, someone, maybe a school secretary or a volunteer from the local AIDS service organization, affixed a white sticker that had the typed-out address or phone number of a nearby health clinic.<\/p>\n

I knew about AIDS, learning about it by watching the nightly news, daytime talk shows, special episodes of sitcoms; as well as gossiping about it with my friends; reading newspaper headlines and magazine articles; and even paying attention when it was discussed in class. But the poster was something different. Seeing the tape that kept the poster up against the office window in my school’s hallway made AIDS close. It was no longer just for movie stars and basketball players. AIDS was local.<\/p>\n

Decades later, I am still moved by the power of an AIDS poster. For the last two years, I have been diving into the National Library of Medicine collection to curate the upcoming exhibition AIDS, POSTERS, and STORIES OF PUBLIC HEALTH: A People’s History of a Pandemic<\/em><\/a>. During this time, I have been awed not just by the sheer volume of what is available, but more so, by the tactics that go into making an AIDS poster and how effective posters have been as public health interventions over the 40 years that the US has been responding to the crisis.<\/p>\n

\"Illustration<\/a>
Illustration of men viewing Bobbi Campbell’s AIDS poster in the early 1980s produced by HealyKohler Design, 2021<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

What I have come to learn is that my experience as a young person with the AIDS poster was no accident. As a communication technology, posters rely on immediacy and intimacy that activists have been harnessing since before AIDS even had a name. In 1981, nurse Bobbi Campbell, who had one of the earliest documented cases of AIDS-related Kaposi\u2019s Sarcoma in San Francisco, took photos of the lesions on his body, then copied those photos onto a piece of paper bookended by text on the top that read \u201cGAY CANCER\u201d and information about what to do if you had similar looking marks on your body at the bottom. Campbell posted what he made in the window of a pharmacy in San Francisco\u2019s Castro District, where men\u2014primarily gay men, many of whom had or would have similar marks on their body\u2014saw the poster and began to pay closer attention to their bodies and the bodies of the men with whom they were close.<\/p>\n

Campbell’s intervention into public space, using his body as a site of information, is what we may consider the first AIDS awareness poster and an example of the personal approach that has marked 40 years of community, AIDS-related cultural production, often in the face of systemic neglect, apathy, stigma, and discrimination. Throughout the exhibition, I highlight AIDS posters that came from people living with and impacted by HIV, for whom the poster was a means of expression and urgency. This includes the infamous 1987 Silence = Death<\/em> poster (shown above) made by a group of friends over a winter of potluck dinners and emotional support in the face of a plague and a hand drawn work by an unnamed artist around the late 1980s, who gave the women in the local community something to think about. Hovering over a drawing of a trendily-dressed woman are the words, “No matter how good they look–: do you want to die for them?\u201d<\/p>\n