Content provided in partnership with
A rip in the quilt: the battle over the AIDS Memorial Quilt may be legally settled, but it has left a trail of hurt feelings and concern over the future of the epidemic's most important symbol
Advocate, The, Feb 28, 2006 by Jen Christensen
In November 1985, San Francisco resident Cleve Jones glanced at a wall and had a simple idea that would make the world more compassionate toward people with AIDS.
While planning the city's gay rights march, Jones learned that San Francisco's AIDS death toll had just passed 1,000. He asked each of his fellow marchers to write the names of friends, family members, and lovers who had died of the disease on placards. They stood on ladders and taped their display to the San Francisco Federal Building. The wall resembled a quilt.
- Most Popular Articles in News
- The Ten Best Laptop bags
- Tata plans cheapest-ever car for Indian market
- GLOBALIZATION AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF UNDERDEVELOPMENT OF THE THIRD WORLD
- Corn is good for you; Corn is not only a tasty treat, but also a cereal that ...
- THE 50 BEST STYLISH HANDBAGS TO CARRY
- More »
A little over a year later, Jones constructed the first panel of a fabric-based quilt to honor a close friend who had died. He convinced others to follow suit, spurring sewing bees in gay bars, church basements, and homes across the United States. In June 1987 Jones and several friends formed a group called the Names Project Foundation to care for and show sections of the quilt for years to come.
On October 11, 1987, 1,920 panels made their debut on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. More than 500,000 visitors viewed the quilt during that exhibit. The AIDS Memorial Quilt quickly became the most effective and enduring symbol of the fight against the epidemic. Now with over 45,000 brightly colored panels, portions of the quilt have been seen by over 15 million people.
Today, however, the quilt's public image has been torn in the wake of a lawsuit between Jones and the Names Project that was settled in December. The very public and very messy battle lasted two years and came down to one question: Who controls the quilt? The organization that coordinates exhibits and fund-raising and oversees its care in a massive warehouse in Atlanta, or the creator who insists that it not be allowed to languish as AIDS awareness flags in the United States?
The December settlement recognizes each party's claim: Jones is to receive 280 of the original quilt panels for display around the Bay Area under the management of his new organization, San Francisco Friends of the AIDS Memorial Quilt. He also has been granted sole discretion to nominate four people to fill two new positions on the Names Project board of directors. Further, the Names Project will provide an official link to his organization on their Web site. The Names Project takes from this settlement the legal right to manage the remainder of the quilt as it sees fit.
There is growing concern that the battle has placed the quilt's future in jeopardy. Raw feelings certainly remain between Jones and the Names Project.
Jones charges that the group has let the quilt "languish" in Atlanta, where it was moved in 2001 from its original home in San Francisco. "We have got to constantly be vigilant against the idea that AIDS is over--that's what the quilt can do, particularly for young people who think this is just a treatable chronic condition," he says. "Within the young group I talked to recently, in the last six months five young men under the age of 30 were recently infected. I tell them the reality is, I still believe HIV is going to kill me. There won't be more effective drugs to treat HIV if we don't keep the pressure on the system that creates them. There's absolutely no reason for this organization to be complacent. That has been my consistent complaint with the Names Project board and the leadership, that they keep coming up with reasons to do less."
The Names Project Foundation believes it has a great future. Executive director Julie Rhoad oversees the day-to-day operations of managing the quilt and guides long-term planning. She says the quilt logged 150% more viewings in 2005, with 512 nationally coordinated displays, than in 2000--before the quilt moved to Atlanta--when there were only 198 such displays.
Meanwhile, the quilt is a natural draw for civil rights and arts tours that come through Atlanta. The President's Committee on the Arts and the Humanities has declared it one of the country's treasures, putting the quilt in the same category as the Stars and Stripes.
Rhoad does admit that the organization has had to limit some of its larger projects because of debt. Jones had asked that the quilt be shown in its entirety in D.C. in October 2004, just prior to the presidential election, but the Names Project says it had to turn down the idea because they couldn't afford it. Rhoad says she and the staff talk every day about how much they want to display the full quilt in D.C., but the organization remains about $100,000 in debt.
That's better than it has been, Rhoad says. "We were clearly on the verge of collapse by the time we left San Francisco, and the choices that we made were clearly about trying to see if we could turn it around." Rhoad adds that these choices caused a few growing pains. "Trying to shift from how the organization used to be run, as this grassroots organization, to an institution with underpinnings that can keep it afloat in good times and in bad does create some issues for people, we understand that," she says.
