Prima Donna No More: Facing HIV Discrimination

It felt like he had just slapped me in the face. His words hit harder than my Mama’s worst beating. I stood there frozen with this blank stare on my face. Awkward silence filled the air. He spoke again and it snapped me back to the reality of it all. “Uh, let me go double check with the tattoo artist,” he said nervously. “OK,” slowly came out of my mouth.

 As he walked away, I began reading the consent form that he had set in front of me. When I reached number three on the form, my eyes were glued to that spot. I read it over and over and over. It did say what I thought it said: “I agree that I do not have HIV.” “But I do have HIV,” I whispered to myself. 

The guy behind the counter who was waiting on me returned and snapped me out of it yet again. “Yes miss, the tattoo artist said NO. We don’t tattoo people with HIV.” He gave me back my driver’s license, picked up the consent form and gave me this silly “I’m sorry,” he said, "I’ll shred this.” Clearly this guy had no idea who I was and frankly at that moment the rule was the rule. We DON'T tattoo people with HIV.  Rae Lewis-Thornton and all I have HIV so a name meant nothing to him at that moment. 

I turned to my friends Deidre and Jason looking like I had been crushed. I could see by the expression on their faces that they had overheard the conversation. Shame swept over me, but I whispered to them anyway, “He told me that I couldn't get the tattoo because I have HIV.”

We walked out in silence and Deidre gave me a tight hug and whispered, “I’m sorry.” Jason and I got in the car and I drove in silence. After about 5 minutes I said “J, that’s weird. I went into the tattoo parlor on 12th Street and they told me that they do tattoo people with HIV all the time.” Jason felt helpless he could see my pain, but he just didn't know and he said so. 

My mind starting racing and silence filled the air yet again. In that five minutes of silence,  Shame, Confusion, Disappointment, and then Anger built up inside of me; but Anger pushed the others to the side.

“J,” I broke the silence again, “I think they just discriminated against me.” He said hesitantly, “You’d know better than me.” Then he suggested, “Let’s call some other places and see if you can get it somewhere else. "To hell with them!" He added. That was a good idea, so we both started calling other tattoo places and asked, If a person has HIV could they get a tattoo? After calling three tattoo parlors we received the same answer, “Yes, come on in.”

Driving down Chicago's Lake Shore Drive, I became a MAD BLACK WOMAN. All of my political fight came over me. I had not lived this long with HIV to get kicked in the gut. And to think I picked this African-American owned Tattoo Polar just to patronize them. Deidre had been talking about the good work that had done on a piecing for her, so I decided to give them a try.

I felt this uneasiness inside of me and I needed to know the truth. Had they broken the law or where they just some discriminating ass-wholes? 

I called information and got the telephone number to the AIDS Legal Counsel. I told the receptionist what happened. I was then connected to a lawyer. After I described the incident, she confirmed that I had indeed been discriminated against. They had violated the Americans with Disabilities Act, Chicago Human Rights Ordinances, as well as the State of Illinois Human Rights Act.

She then asked my name. “Rae Lewis-Thornton,” I mumbled. “Excuse me?" She hollered with excitement.  "Rae Lewis-Thornton the AIDS activist?” “Yes, that would be me,” I mumbled.

“WOW!” Ann Hilton Fisher exclaimed, “You have got to file a complaint! We need you on this one.” “Are you kidding me?” I thought. She had just hit me with a curve ball that I was not ready for. She could sense my hesitation. Ann started talking again, “You know Rae, you have been a prima donna with AIDS. Everyone likes you because you are on TV and the cover of magazines. Welcome to the real world.”

This was the real world. The new discrimination is covert, small things that people take for granted every day. Like getting a tattoo or having a massage. I understood what she was saying, but it was a lot to think about. Getting that tattoo was something very personal. I didn't really want anyone to know, now I was being asked to go public. I went home and curled up on the sofa and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. It was all too overwhelming.

By 11:00 that night my head was pounding from crying and my spirit had taken a beating. I had to Man Up and face a realization that day. Being on the cover of a magazine and having an Emmy Award couldn't change the fact that I have been discriminated against, just like many other people living with HIV/AIDS.

This is still a reality in the 21st century. It was my reality just a few years ago. But somewhere between mourning the prima donna, and wallowing in self pity, super woman kicked in. I picked up the phone and called Jason, “Hey, let’s go to Jade Dragon.” “Tonight?” he asked? “Yes, tonight! I am not going to let them win. We made our we to the other tattoo parlor and Jason held my hand. Midway, the pain was so great I wanted to quit, but now I needed to prove a point.

The next morning me and my sore backside made it to AIDS Legal Council and began the process of filling a complain. They had messed with the wrong person. I was mad as hell!   When I walked out of the law office that afternoon I was so proud of myself and I wanted to tell all my friends. As the day went on, my bubble started to burst. So it seemed that many of my friends thought I was in the wrong to file the complain. "Well Rae, blood is present when you get a tattoo," was all  that I heard, all day long.

I started to feel isolated....

To Be Continued :)