In the Shadow of the American Dream (2 page)

It has been difficult for me to finalize this manuscript. As a work in progress, it has been a way for me to hold on to a set of feelings and a sense of reality that are perhaps no longer current, but relegating them to the past is like saying it's over, and it's not over. Thinking back on five or ten years ago, I realize how different my world was, knowing dozens of people suffering with AIDS-related symptoms, going to hospital wards and memorials, and considering estates of artists who left behind unfinished work. Most of the people I have known with HIV are dead now, and thankfully the few people in my life with AIDS who have survived this long can afford new treatments, and are responding positively to them. (No cure is around the corner, but what a difference it makes for people with symptoms suddenly to feel better for a sustained period of time.) My experience with AIDS now feels falsely part of my past, but I am more than haunted by a decade of loss. How to express the ways in which the images of young people dying in great pain have affected me and my generation? Nothing equips a young person for the horrors AIDS induced, through illness and prejudice and cultural neglect. In retrospect, the eighties and early nineties feel like a Poseidon Adventure some of us survived, and yet I know that many, many more people will lose their lives to AIDS-related diseases, and that my experience in urban America is altogether different from what is going on globally.

How do we in this culture responsibly reflect on and honor the lives lost? How do we prevent ourselves from collapsing so many memories into a totality that effaces the individuality of each person we loved and now miss? These are some of the final questions David engaged in his work, and his frustrations in the end were compounded by his inability to overcome what was taking away his life. Most of us are bewildered by the enormity of such experience, and inaction is often the result. But David continued to write and make art and confront his feelings as long as he could. When he was no longer able to work, his alienation deepened:

I feel like it's happening to this person called David, but not to me. It's happening to this person who looks exactly like me, is as tall as me, and I can see through his eyes as if I am in his body, but it's still not me. So I go on and occasionally this person called David cries or makes plans for the possibility of death or departure or going to a doctor for checkups or dabbles in underground drugs in hopes for more time, and then eventually I get the body back and that David disappears for a while and I go about my daily business doing what I do, what I need or care to do. I sometimes feel bad for that David and can't believe he is dying. (no date, 1989)

David faced his own mortality with remarkable insight. In completely original terms, he invested his personal explorations and observations with fierce political analysis. In the work he produced, he shed light on facets of experience in America in the late twentieth century for an underclass who will forever be invigorated by his legacy.

Amy Scholder

September 1997

*
David Wojnarowicz: Tongues of Flame,
the catalog for a major exhibition of his work at University Galleries, Illinois State University, Normal, Illinois, 1990.

David's first journal, his record of an Outward Bound expedition, was written when he was seventeen years old. The diary is illustrated with maps and drawings of the terrain
.

August-September 1971

Hurricane Island Outward Bound School

Grenfell Watch

P.O. Box 438

Vinalhaven, Maine 04863

Thursday, August 19, 1971

The first day we were coming over by ferry. It was foggy and the mist whipped at our faces. I was cold as hell. I started talking to my friend next to me whom I met at the airport. Soon he left with his friend and I sat behind a car to keep out of the cold. I began a conversation with a boy who was to be in my watch; his name was Tony. He is from Long Island. He lives there in the summer with his parents, but during college term he studies art in Sweden. Soon after, we reached Hurricane Island. Our watch officer's name was Charlie. We immediately went to our assigned tents and changed into running shorts. We ran once around the island and went to supper … a very small meal. I was hungry as hell afterwards. We went to sleep.

Friday, August 20, 1971

We got up and ran around the island. Very exhausting. I finished a cigarette I had and was going to smoke one last one before we signed a pledge to commit ourselves to do to our best ability the challenges and feats. And to stick by each other. Well I had the cigarette in my mouth and a lit match, about to light it. Then one person in my watch said that he feels we should all stick together before we sign the commitment. So in fewer words, I should not smoke my last cigarette. Well, I argued and everyone except Tony sided with George (the guy who started the whole mess). I said, Lordy, Lordy, I'm cured. And turned around all disgusted and walked away.

The kids then came up and apologized about it and said that they realized one last cigarette couldn't hurt. It was too late anyway since I broke up the cigarette. We went to sleep after supper and after signing the book.

Saturday, August 21, 1971

I learned the first steps in rock climbing. The man who teaches it hit me on the top of the head for doing a wrong signal at the wrong time. I was really pissed off. I am drawing the steps of preliminary rock climbing: Ombeli means I'm hooked up and ready for you to follow. Uprope means Pull up slack rope. The man situated on top of the hill pulls slack. When the slack is pulled up all the way, the man at the bottom shouts, That's me. The man at the top then says, Climb. The man at the bottom begins to climb and says, Climbing. The man at the top says, Okay, and pulls in the slack as the man ascends. If you kick off any rocks you can call, Below. If you feel yourself falling you call, Tension. The man at the top will immediately brace himself for the impact of the rope when you fall.

We ate lunch and got our swim trunks on and went for a swim in the granite quarry. We ate a lousy dinner of boiled ham and sweet potatoes. Ugh! I began to get tired. Sleep.

Sunday, August 22, 1971

We walked up to the freshwater pond and I caught a snake. A little garter snake. He started puking so I tossed him into the bushes. Imagine that, a sick snake.

We had to tie this rope around each of our waists and one by one crawl onto a little rope over the pond. We had to get to the other side. If one fell in we all would fall in. I was scared because my nice work boots were on. Thank Swami that we made it across and just in time for lunch. I ommmmmed in my mind all the way through the ordeal. After lunch we went on a real rock climb. I was first to go up since I had a dentist appointment. I made it up with very little trouble. I then left on the
M. V. Hurricane
to get to the dentist in Rockland. The
M. V. Hurricane
is a tugboat or a type of ferry. I felt seasick but here was my chance to eat all I wanted. I had half the pot of stew and ten oranges. The most I ever ate in my life!

I didn't get my tooth pulled. Back at H. Island, we began to get ready for the trip tomorrow. We leave on a pulling boat and come back Saturday. Nightfall came quickly. We had a big curse-out fight with another watch. The stars were really bright.

Monday, August 23, 1971

Camp Island

I left early this morning. The swells were about 5 ft. high. I threw up so many times. Finally I passed out. I woke up as we drifted into a nice quiet cove. It was beautiful. I had a nice dinner of burnt macaroni, steamed mussels, and carrots.

Tuesday, August 24, 1971

I slept badly and woke up with a cold. I ate breakfast. We boarded the pulling boat and set sail for the next island. We learned about mainsails, mizzens, square knots, Boling knots, etc. Soon I fell asleep. Today I did not get sick. We sailed farther and farther. I was the bowman. We soon sailed into Bartlett Cove. This is the Girls Island. Unfortunately there were no girls today because they were out on expeditions, like us. I slept soundly.

Wednesday, August 25, 1971

We sailed all day long and all night, we sailed in around 1:40 to Orono Island. We cooked stew and woke up around 4:55
A.M.
When I got up this morning …

Thursday, August 26, 1971

I blew my nose and then I lifted a small rock to throw away the tissue. All of a sudden there were two beautiful snakes curled up. One was a green snake with white-green skin and milky white underbody. The other was a common ring-neck snake. Very small, with maroon underbelly. Must have been to the point of shedding. What a find. I let them go. My cold was worse. The sunrise was beautiful. We ran 6 miles afterwards. My legs were about to break. We soon left to sail again. Again I wasn't sick. We arrived very early at the most beautiful island I have ever seen. The name is Isle au Haut.

There were brine shrimp in the water and crabs running around in the seaweed. Deer were on the island. We found part of a skeleton of a deer. We had a good dinner of stew. (Good night.)

Friday, August 27, 1971

I woke up and walked around for a few minutes. It was very depressing out. The sky was very cloudy and dark. We got on the boat and I became very seasick. I ate some raisins and soon felt better. All of a sudden a report came over the radio about a hurricane which might hit New York and the New England area. We got scared. So we decided to get back to Hurricane Island.

We made it back and had a good dinner of two hamburgers, a bowl of soup, oyster crackers, and pears. I had a great sleep.

Saturday, August 28, 1971

We went rock climbing again and I learned rapelling. This is when you walk off a cliff backwards with ropes attached to you. If you let go with one hand you are going to fall and kill yourself. I remember having dreams of falling off cliffs as a little boy and the sensation was like this. I almost started crying.

The people who contribute to this island are here today. We are having a fantastic meal just to show them how good the camp is run. I am now going to sleep. I have been eating green apples so I have lots of gas. Ugh!!!

Sunday, August 29, 1971

I think that since I have quit smoking, my appetite has grown immensely. I eat and eat, then 15 minutes later I'm starving again. This morning we had like a junior Woodstock. Guitar and flute playing. Tonight I am watching a movie,
The Living Desert
. It is about all sorts of animals. We went on an ecology walk for preparation for our three-day solo, which will be in a couple of days. I think around Tuesday. They will take us on the
M. V. Hurricane
(ferryboat) and drop us off one by one on each uninhabited island. We have to live off the land for three days. This will be my chance to get some sleep and rest.

The movie was kind of funny but I was so tired that I slept through the last half of it. I am now in bed, I am very drowsy, so I will be signing off. Good night.

Monday, August 30, 1971

Every morning at 5:30
A.M.
we get up, run around the island, and then take a jump into the cold, cold ocean. Brrrrrrr …

Well, this morning as we were running, three boys decided to show off their athletic skills and took off faster and soon disappeared. We have a rule, to stick together while doing everything. Some other boys and I have already hurt ourselves falling while running, so we had to take it slow. Well, we had to do five pull-ups. Those three guys who ran ahead had to come all the way back and do the five pull-ups. They started bitching about having to run slow because of the slower guys.

I was elected as first mate next to captain so I stood up and ordered them to quiet down as is expected of me. One guy, a very good karate pupil, told me to screw myself and to say shut up to his face. I had been fed up with everybody, so I walked up to him and said, Shut up. He did a karate flip on me, but I grabbed onto him before I fell, so I broke the fall.

We will be going on a ropes course which nobody has completed without falling at least once. I will try to do it without falling.

I just took a short walk into the woods. I found a small freshwater pond with a granite rock wall around it. Nearby was a little frail bird's nest. I picked it up.

I am feeling really depressed. I just caught another green snake on my way to the rope course. It was much smaller than the other one I had caught on Bartlett Island.

I just finished the first part of the ropes course. For some reason my kneecaps hurt so bad that I can't jump or do anything like that. I got into another argument with a stupid kid named George. I caught a frog in the quarry.

I am seriously thinking about leaving sooner than planned. I hate this situation. I have stuck it out to my fullest capacity. But there is only so much I can take from some people. The course isn't hard but the people are lousy.

I had a good lunch and am now ready to take over the watch from another crew. The emergency watch is when you serve the meals and stay up all night to make sure that any ships that crash in the dark can be rescued. You also do any job on the island that needs doing.

I helped scrape all the paint off the boat that was washed up on another island. I will be leaving in two days for my solo. Solo is when they take you to the island and let you stay there for three days. I will enjoy being alone and having to find and prepare my own food. I will write recipes for the meals I will have had. I get worried that the maniac might come and kill me in the dark while I am on the island. For some reason I am not afraid of monsters in the dark, but I am scared of maniacs and insane people waiting in the woods, in the dark. I get scared that they will grab me and kill me. I don't know why and I can't shake that feeling. I am very anxious to get back in the city, where the cold gray buildings are of some comfort and the lights make me feel safe.