hopeful end, narrated by five people deeply affected by the damage it caused. Each provides a unique perceptive in their interview, and together they bring all facets of this tragedy into clear focus. Daniel, an artist, shows the heart of the struggle, having lost two lovers to the disease and contracted it himself. Paul offers the political side, speaking of policies and the fight for visibility. Ed, who never quite fit in with sex-centric gay community, blossomed as a counselor to those struggling to stay alive. Flower shop owner Guy details how the community reacted to the loss of close friends, regular customers, and perfect strangers. The final interviewee is not a member of the gay community, but someone who cared about its members deeply. Eileen worked as a nurse in many clinical trials looking to improve treatment methods and prevent the loss of anymore lives. Together, the narrators take viewers on a journey or fear, struggle, strength, and perseverance, shedding light on one of the deadliest epidemics in American history. Before even beginning to explaining the AIDS outbreak, the narrators detail the circumstances which preceded it. The late 1970’s saw a massive influx of gay men moving to San Francisco’s Castro District, a place where they could freely express themselves and explore their sexuality. It was the height of the sexual revolution, one which the gay community took to with zeal. Anonymous sexual relationships fostered in bath houses were the norm, even though this careless manner of engaging in sex came with a high risk factor. This recklessness caught up with them. One interviewee, Daniel, estimated that by 1979, 10% of the gay population in San Francisco had contracted AIDS. By 1981, when patients in the area began showing symptoms of the disease, Daniel speculates that number had grown to 20%. With such a high number of men infected with this disease, it was no surprise it seemed to spring upon the community so quickly. Ed recalls seeing a homemade poster hung up at the local Star Pharmacy, warning men to look out for big purple splotches on any part of their body. These patches of discolored skin were caused by Kaposi’s sarcoma, a form of cancer usually only found in the elderly. Alternatively, some contracted pneumonia and other similar diseases, all of which was labeled under the blanket term “Gay Cancer”. Once diagnosed, patients died at a remarkable rate, many lasting no more than five days before succumbing to the disease. The community sank into panic. Everyone assumed they had it and braced for the worst. Hospitals became battle grounds, where many were unwilling to take part in the war. Nurses refused to enter patients’ rooms, and hospitals turned away victims in fear of being labeled an AIDS hospital. Many of these men lacked familial support, having been shunned for being homosexual. Luckily, nurses like Eileen and organizations like Shanti refused to turn their backs on those who were suffering. Early on in the epidemic, very little was known about the disease. By 1983, some began to wonder if the disease was sexually transmitted, advocating the use of condoms as an adequate means of prevention. In hopes of gaining national support, groups such as Mobilization Against AIDS began taking action, sending advocates to Washington D.C. to rally the government to their cause. Clinical trials pushed new and intense drugs onto patients, often with disastrous results. One such trial focused on an African drug named Suramin, and everyone in the trial save Daniel died from it. Doctor’s rapidly produced treatments, desperate to save lives, but nothing seemed to stick. Soon, patients began to develop CMV and lost their sight. But at each turn for the worst, the community still fought back. They refused to be disheartened, eagerly participating in trials and donating their eyes to science in order to further the search for a cure.
For all of San Francisco’s perseverance, many onlookers refused to help the gay community, filled with fear and prejudice. When a poll was released asking what should be done with those who had been diagnosed, 50% called for them to be placed in quarantine. Additionally, 48% approved of the victims carrying some form of visible identification with them, and 15% believed this should come in the form of tattoos. In 1986, political activist Lyndon LaRouche proposed AIDS be added to the list of communicable diseases, which would effectively prevent patients from maintaining their jobs and make the development of treatments even harder. The proposition was defeated twice, as it was placed on the California ballot again two years later with slightly different wording. The development of tests to identify AIDS and HIV, which should have been a tremendous achievement, was also bogged down by negativity. The results of these tests were often made public, and those having contracted the disease were more often than not fired. Religious leaders across the country condemned the community, claiming God was smiting them for practicing homosexuality. Not even President Reagan could be bothered to help them, and many attributed his lack of action to the fact that AIDS seemingly only affected gays.
Unfazed by the forces working against them, the Castro District and their allies slowly began to heal. Activists met with pharmaceutical companies to streamline the production of life saving drugs, and groups such as Act Up gained recognition for their work lobbying for meaningful legislation. Under One Roof, a store created by Daniel, gave members of the community a way to provide financial support to HIV positive artists. Guy recalls seeing a shift in the patients. Once, he would watch in sorrow as they slowly progressed through stages of physical decay into eventual death, but he saw the end of the epidemic hallmarked by people fighting their way back to a state of health. The gay community as a whole began to be viewed in a different light. No longer were they a carefree group of sex obsessed young men, but a strong community who would band together in times of great need. Though they finally managed to make the disease more manageable, it came at a great cost, with 15,548 people ultimately losing their lives in the wake of the epidemic.
Throughout the documentary, the themes found in our course can be seen displayed in the gay community’s interactions with those using the AIDS epidemic as an excuse to treat them poorly and unjustly. Whether reacting negatively to their homosexuality, the growing threat of AIDS, or a combination of both, the majority (in this case, the heterosexual population) pushed to enforce laws which would segregate the gay community from themselves under the guise of preventing further spread of the disease. Prejudice during this time was largely influenced by social norms condemning homosexuality, or what our textbook refers to as the normative approach. These norms found a wide audience through the influence of religious leaders, many of whom portrayed the gay community as “sinful” and “unnatural”, leading many to turn their back on their plight. Parents even showed prejudice towards their children, as Ed recounts how one father confessed to him it was harder to learn of his son’s homosexuality than of his diagnosis. Institutional discrimination is also explored in this documentary, particularly in the work place and hospitals towards victims of the AIDS epidemic. Nurses and doctors forgot their obligation to serve the public, fearing this new disease and wanting nothing to do with it. The practice of firing those testing positively for the disease revealed a deep seated prejudice against the victims, reminiscent of the prejudice against lepers from century’s back. This documentary also sees the birth of the stereotype that links gay men to AIDS, a hurtful generalization which still plagues the community to this day. We Were Here sets out to tell the stories of those who witnessed the AIDS epidemic of San Francisco and those who were lost along the way, a mission which it accomplishes in every respect. The diverse pool of interviewees sheds light on the many different facets of this tragedy, allowing viewers to paint an accurate picture of the events that transpired and their importance in relation to each other. The interviewees also do a phenomenal job of emotionally connecting with audiences and bringing to life those they loved and cared for until death, showing us the carnage and heartbreak in a way statistics alone never could. They articulate the struggle against prejudice with clarity, portraying themselves as warriors for equality rather than victims with no hope of overcoming oppression. Ties to organizations such as Quest Clinical Research (Eileen), Shanti (Ed), and Mobilization against AIDS (Paul) give the interviewees credibility. Archived footage showing posters and pastors speaking out against the community’s struggle also give the audience a greater understanding of the prejudice at work. However, the lack of an interviewee from outside the struggle prevents us from gaining a complete picture of the majority and their role in either oppressing or supporting the community. Firing on all cylinders, We Were Here delivers a moving narrative on San Francisco’s struggle as the center of the 1980’s AIDS epidemic.
Through the eyes of five narrators, we see each stage unfold, from unclear beginnings to widespread hysteria and finally culminating in an uneasy victory. Audiences are given personal stories along with gripping facts, effectively teaching them about the discrimination faced by gay men and those infected with AIDS and the way those two types of prejudice intertwined even in the face of death and suffering. Every mark it makes for itself, the film hits, only falling short when it comes to painting a wider, less intimate picture. The documentary’s achievements in teaching about a modern tragedy and the struggles faced by those living through it make it truly powerful, and I recommend it strongly to those in need of both inspiration and
hubris.