I feel like an anthropologist when watching something like Angels in America, telling myself that I have to think about it from the time in which it was created, in this case the early nineties. I know I read it in high school(it had just been published), the good little closet case that I was, devouring every piece of gay-related reading I could get ahold of, but don't remember a thing about it. There was no separation then, the world painted was the reality of the situation. It's much like my bible, Becoming a Man by Paul Monette, so quick to spew hatred at those in power, so quick with the idealistic silver lining that is the future.
Tonight, as I prepared to distance myself from the piece, to look at it as a past moment in time, I began to question why I was doing that. We can't say that this amount of anger isn't still warranted. Maybe I typecast the work as a way to avoid feeling guilty, because to admit that this level of rage is still justified requires that I admit that I am not doing enough. Somewhere I bought into the concept that living my life openly was activism, opening the eyes of people ignorant of what real gay people are like. Is it enough? Do we still need to scream to be seen as human beings equal under the law?
I'm confused, so much so that I pulled my bible down from it's shelf, looking to see if PM has any advice for me. While I see the similarities in the pieces, I still am far from a conclusion.
So I turn to you. Any thoughts? What's on your mind? Whatever song lyric, poem, or life experience you are feeling right this second may be just what I need to get this to gel.