Body Art: Fad Or Fable?

Another day short on time but, fortunately, I've got quite a bit of fodder for this blog stashed away in a couple of cardboard boxes in my garage. Today I'm taking a blogger's shortcut again and sharing another piece that's already been written.

The day before laying ink to skin - still tattoo free.

If we're Facebook "friends," you may have seen that I'm thinking about getting another tattoo. But did you know I have one already? Yeah, some of you do. Some of you maybe not. I first walked into a tattoo parlor in 1993 but was turned away when they found out I had HIV. Three years later, in June 1996, a group of friends and I drove to Seattle for Gay Pride. After the parade and festival, I saw this tattoo parlor and thought I'd give it another try. As I was working with the artist on sketching out my very simple tatt, the alarm on his watch started to beep. He looked up, pulled a small tin out of his pocket, opened it and said, "Time for my AZT. Do you need one?"

Serendipity. To say the least, I wasn't turned away from this shop. And the guy who performed the work also had HIV. He was also very excited about this basic two-by-two inch tattoo because he'd never been asked for one like it before.

In 1999, I was living in Chicago and somehow got asked to do another interview about my tattoo. So here's that article from the New City News, February 4, 1999:

Marked For Life
HIV-Status Tattoos Can Be A Source of Pride and Esteem
by Tony Peregrin

"I feel sexier when it's showing," says Jim Akers of the tattoo that adorns his shoulder.

That's become a pretty common sentiment over the past ten years, in an age where tattoos have come to be more associated with rock stars and basketball pros than easy riders and Marines. But Jim, a former military man with a quick smile and warm brown eyes, doesn't sport your average Celtic band or snaking reptile; four years ago, he made the decision to permanently mark himself with a tattoo that announces his seropositive status to the world.

The reactions to the tattoo have been varied. He's had mothers yank their children away from him. He caused a cyclist - intent on seeing what the face of a guy with HIV looked like - to crash his bike.

But while others may literally lose control at the sight of the tattoo, it has done nothing but make Jim feel in control of his life, his diagnosis and his identity as a person living with HIV. "That empowerment and sense of liberation is why displaying the tattoo, at least in certain environments, makes me feel... sexy," he says with a shy grin.

"I can definitely see how an HIV+ tattoo could make a person, like Jim, feel erotic," says Dan Brouwer, an instructor at Loyola University and the author of "The Precarious Visibility Politics of Self-Stigmatization: The Case of HIV/AIDS Tattoos," which was published last year in Text and Performance Quarterly.

"Initially, when a person learns they they are HIV-positive, they may feel anything but erotic or sexy," he continues. "The act of getting such a tattoo is a way of re-eroticizing themselves as they refuse to accept the shame that many still associate with the illness."

Shame and embarrassment is exactly what political commentator William F. Buckley had in mind when, in 1986, he suggested in the New York Times that all gay men should be required to be tested for HIV and that anyone who tested positive should be required to get a tattoo on their buttocks to "prevent the victimization of other homosexuals." Gay men have spun Buckley's idea in a visible symbol of pride and community, creating images such as in the international sign for biohazardous waste, a large plus sign, or the words HIV Positive in an effort to give the illness a human visage.


But do the tattoos act as barriers against unsafe sex, as Buckley hoped they would?

"No," Akers answers quickly. "They don't. People see the tattoo and sometimes still want to engage in sexual activities that go outside the boundaries of what I consider to be safe, even after I verbally disclose my HIV status, which I always do."

"I think they do promote safer-sex," says Brouwer. "They're certainly not a guarantee. What they do is create 'conditions' for safer sex practices."

Why do I hold onto these things for thirteen years?

A sexually active individual who is responsible about maintaining their seronegative status will assume that each partner he has sex with is HIV-positive - whether they are or not - and engage in safe sex. But to assume all of your sexual partners are HIV-positive can be challenging, especially when those partners are physically healthy, because they don't "look" sick. Jim Akers doesn't look sick - he's asymptomatic and can easily "pass" as seronegative, especially when his tattoo is covered.

But would he have gotten the tattoo if his body was showing signs of HIV?

Akers pauses before responding. "I don't know what my body would be like, what it would look like, if I was symptomatic. I honestly don't know. I may have still gotten one anyway. You know, I still feel intimidated at times of showing the tattoo. It really depends on my self esteem that day. We all have our ups and downs. If I'm in a club, there are days when I don't want the first thing for someone, especially a guy I might think is hot, to see is my tattoo. I want him to see me first."

"People who have these tattoos run the risk of being condensed and reduced to simply a person with HIV," Brouwer opines. "The tattoos act merely as statements, not discussions. The wearer loses control of the meaning of the tattoo as soon as it is displayed. The viewer who looks at the tattoo without meeting Jim and hearing his story can only draw certain superficial conclusions based on that physical symbol."

And, when Jim is on the dance floor, the music pumping, the crowd energetic and the environment sweltering, there is usually a reaction when he decides to shed his shirt.

"I usually get a pretty good reaction, especially from other guys who are HIV-positive," he says. They seem to really appreciate it. But what I do find frustrating is when I'm dating someone and people assume that because of me and the tattoo that he is also positive. It's a guilt-by-association kind of thing. They're judging him based on a tattoo on my body."

So does he ever regret getting the tattoo?

Navy Days

"Nope. Getting a tattoo like this is not for everyone. But for me, it was the final act of coming to terms with my seropositive status. I'd always wanted a tattoo. You know, I was in the military and I saw a lot of guys with tattoos of, like, Tweety Bird on their butt. That wasn't for me... I wanted a tattoo that meant something, so I waited. Several years ago, when I learned that I was HIV-positive, I knew of course that it would be with me for the rest of my life and I knew that that was what I wanted the tattoo to be."

Other men with HIV express similar reasons for getting the tattoo, though there are some who only go so far as to get a temporary, non-permanent tattoo. Either way, tattoos act as reminders to both the wearers and the viewers that visibility is paramount to achieving acceptance and understanding.

HIV/AIDS is not the only illness that perpetuates stereotypes and prejudices. Akers admits he probably wouldn't have felt compelled to get a tattoo directly related to his medical condition if that condition was cancer or multiple sclerosis.

"There is a certain kind of sympathy and acceptance for someone who has cancer as opposed to someone who is HIV-positive," he figures. "Despite the success of all the AIDS awareness campaigns, ignorance still exists, trust me. Some people still associate HIV/AIDS as a moral issue, a gay issue, even a promiscuity issue. Coming to terms with an HIV-positive status is very similar to coming to terms with any life threatening disease, but it is also very different."

Still holding up after all these years... and a lot of sun!

The language of tattoos is an unspoken dialogue between the wearer and the viewer. Historically, they have been used to "mark" criminals (as they were in thirteenth century Japan) and deserters of the British Army. Today, tattoos are a staple of music videos, Levi ads and fashion runways. HIV-positive tattoos do not function as either a mark of criminal behavior or a fashion statement.

In his article, Brouwer writes, "The tattoo signifies 'membership' in a collective of people much like Greek fraternity or sorority letters, clothing with labor union insignia, or rainbow flags for lesbians and gays. Like members of any sort of collective, people with HIV/AIDS tattoos often share common rituals - discovery of their diagnosis, visits to physicians or hospitals, participation in demonstrations, the mourning of friends and loved ones. Thus, HIV/AIDS tattoos participate in the construction of an AIDS community by publicizing an individual's otherwise hidden condition."

(Article reprinted without permission from New City News, Tony Peregrin, or anyone else for that matter. But, hell, do I really need permission to reprint a story about me?)