And so...

"Do you know someone who has died from AIDS?" I get that question, some might say frequently, at least in my recent attempts at fundraising and, although I do, several actually, I find that question interesting and...annoying. I suppose that it has a purpose, I mean I am running the marathon and I am asking for money for a specific cause; there must be a reason behind it right? Maybe they just want to know the reason and I'm reading too much into it or, maybe, just maybe, I've had one too many run in's with people who don't want to give because it is for a certain cause and THAT I find reprehensible. I actually had one woman, who shall remain anonymous, ask me to whom the money was going directly? Did I know? What was it being used for? Was it distributed "equally?" What do I look like lady, the Director. I mean, I answered her questions to the best of my ability, but there was something suspicious about her behavior, something about the way that she hounded me and then, nothing. She never made a donation. I chalked it up to she just didn't have the funds, but deep down, I felt that it was that "other thing;" that thing that people don't want to acknowledge in themselves because others would call them on it. It was that thing that makes people fearful and shallow, without compassion. It doesn't have a specific name, but it feeds on ignorance and fear. Some people say it is homophobia, some say discrimination, some just roll their eyes like they expect that kind of behavior and maybe they are justified in doing so. AIDS has been around for 30 years this year and there is still a stigma associated with it; ask people who are running for the cause, many of them used to feel one way about the disease and about the cause and now, through many changes in their lives, some of their own volition and some just coincidental, they have a broader and a deeper understanding of those who live with this diagnosis and ultimately, this disease. It's not rocket science here, it's the recognition that if you stand for human rights, then that includes ALL humans, not just the ones who meet your standards or your criteria.

I also have to say that the "God" issue really bothers me. I'm a Christian, a Catholic actually, but I tend to say Christian in a general way. I don't go to church on a regular basis, at least not right now and I tend to now lean more toward a Buddhist way of thinking. What bothers me about this notion is when people speak on behalf of "God" and how they seem to feel justified in using "God" as an explanation for their hatred, their prejudice and their downright fear. I think that the religious right are some of the most fiercely judgmental and least "Christian" people I have ever had the displeasure to hear or to know. Religion should never justify intolerance or violence. Religion is organized theology and people, while they have every right to believe and to practice what they want, I do not feel that any single human being has the right to judge another human being on the basis of race, creed, sexual preference, lifestyle and, of course, other categories which I'm too tired to list or to think of at the moment, but you get the general idea. On the other hand, I find that many of the people whom I've known, who I would have thought to be the most judgmental, have ended up being the biggest proponents of the cause and the biggest supporters of endeavors like the marathon.

I'm not kidding myself; I'm not all that smart nor do I pretend to know politics. But I listen and I follow a certain credo when it comes to how and what I believe and I have reasons for all of it. How I feel about certain issues are based on my core value system; part of that came from how I was raised and a larger part of that came from getting out in the world, growing up, interacting with people and formulating my own way of seeing the world. But it all comes back to one thing, one simple thing; I love people. I can't help it. My name is Yvette and I love people. Yes, they piss me off and I hate slow drivers and I can't stand it when students don't do what I say or when Jake forgets to take out the trash, but, alas, I digress...

Sometimes when I'm driving, I have had a rather morbid thought cross my mind. I start thinking of my own funeral and as I imagine it, I think about who would come to the service and, more importantly, what they would say. I think about Tim and my sons and it makes me sad and fearful for a few minutes, but this exercise isn't really about them, it's about what people would say about me and is that in line with how I live my life? Is what they say representative of the kind of human being that I was; did they get the point? I used to have a lot of regrets, but they mostly concerned little things and a lot of them focused on events or incidents from my youth when I was either too ignorant (ah hah) or too afraid (we're on to something here) to do anything to change my ideas. But what I've come to realize now is that all anyone, at my funeral or anywhere else for that matter, who wanted to know what kind of person I was or am; all that person would have to do is look at the people who are a part of my life, the people who I have chosen to surround myself with and who I call my family. In the last few years especially, I have changed so much. I think that I was always poised on the precipice of change, but I needed something or someone to push me and interestingly, that push came in the form of a marathon. Now, when I look back though, I realize, it was never about the running. It was always about the people.

As much as I want my life to mean something and as much as I want my children to grow up to be selfless, altruistic, giving human beings, more than anything, I would like for the judgment to stop. Thinking back to my "God" reference; I believe that, in the end, when I stand before my maker and I am asked to justify why I lived my life the way I did, well, I hope that I can and I hope that it will be enough because in the end, all I have are the choices that I made and that I continue to make and one of those choices is how I treat other human beings. It's not about politics or economics; it's about the most basic civilities. Were you the type of kid who excluded other kids? Did you name call? Did you pick on or bully other kids? Do you still? Some behaviors we outgrow and, sadly, some of those behaviors manifest themselves into ways of thinking and pretty soon, they become our core values.

I find myself at a crossroads all the time when it comes to issues. I have strong opinions and beliefs about how things should be but I often let my actions and behaviors speak for me. I'm not one to stand on a soapbox and if you've been reading any of this blog, this particular one is a bit unusual in that respect. I'm not a preacher. I tend to just write what I think and then I either let it go or I hold it close to my heart. That's it. I guess I've just had to hear the word "Fag" come out of one too many mouths. And in case you're wondering, I say something to the person who said it every single time. The other day it was at work and it was a student, not my student but one who was in the hall. I don't know the exact context in which he used it, but does it matter. I just said, "Hey, do not use language like that." I know, I sounded like a mother, but I am a mother. The kid looked so shocked that I wasn't sure if I should say anything else and then, surprisingly he muttered, "Oh sorry" but I was already walking toward the door. I'm not even sure why he said he was sorry because I bet my life he said it again in the next few breaths after I left.

I get tired of the way that people insult other people. I mean, I'll take a shot at someone, no holds barred, if I feel like it's justified, but the difference is that I don't make it an issue of race or creed, sometimes I do of gender but that's only because I've been married to a MAN for 18 years and we all know, homo or hetero here, that that ain't an easy thing to do (I hope you're smiling at that). I used to be afraid of a lot of things, of a lot of how people thought and what they thought of me and now, now I'm no longer afraid and if you ask me, I'm going to tell you. If you want to know if I know anyone who has died from AIDS, sadly, I will say yes and that that is part of the reason why I am running. But more than that and what I'd really like you to remember and my real answer to that question is, I'm running for AIDS Project because I, like the other 200 runners who will run this year, and, like all the other alumni who've run and for all those who will run in the future, we, believe that there will be a cure and that AIDS will no longer exist. And we believe that no one should have to suffer and there are many who suffer, probably more than you know, regardless of who they are and where they live and how they got this horrific disease. None of that matters; these are human beings who need our help and it is our duty and our obligation to help them. And if they do die, when many of them do die, I like to think that all of us want each of them to pass on with the utmost dignity and with the love of other people and that the person who stands beside them in that moment or who holds their hand will look at them with the kindness and respect that they deserve. That is what I hope. And so... Why do you run for APLA?

I run for APLA because it is an organization that is devoted to the belief that every single human being has the right to live, to be loved and, to receive whatever help they need in order to insure the highest quality of life. I run for them because the people who I've met these past few years who work for APLA and who run for them are some of the finest, kindest, most giving people I have ever known. I run for APLA because they graciously allow me to, so, thank you, universe, God, Karma... thank you for bringing me into their fold. I have benefited the most from our relationship and this Sunday, on March 18th, I will proudly wear my T2 singlet and I will remember every single step that I take as a step that has both brought me here and that will, simultaneously, carry me forward.

Thank you Kevin and Scott, Tom and Ashley, the Bolivers and to all of the other volunteers, coaches, support team and to the runners, thank you for giving me a new direction, one that I will follow passionately. The marathon approaches... T2 2012.