The goal was to tell a substantive, compelling story in an engaging way, keep people interested and entertained, receptive and off their mobile devices through the program, while hoping there would be minimal early departures from this event.
The occasion was last night’s 30th Anniversary Recognition event for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation at the Regency Ballroom in San Francisco. The guarantee was “no speeches” and, other than an enthusiastically-received set of remarks by Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi at the very start of the evening, that assurance was respected. All messaging was done theatrically, in four, six-to-eight minute vignettes that were spread over the first two hours of the three-hour event.
The concept was to articulate the chronological, socio-political and emotional arcs of the AIDS Epidemic of the past 30 years through these Vignettes. Action took place on the proscenium stage, on two platform-stages juxtaposed among the cocktail-sized tables in the room and from the encircling balcony, overhead.
The room was set up as a club; heavy on small tables of varying shapes and heights, light on seating, heavy on a wide variety of easily-eaten food on small plates; all to keep people moving and comfortable and not stuck with nine other people at a static dinner table for the entire night.
My strategy was to communicate through the first vignette that these would be short, intense, impactful; such that mobile devices and mouths would be pretty-much closed-down during the performances and the talking and texting would be done in the 20 – 25 minutes between Acts.
It worked.
The first act, “Discovery,” was so powerfully delivered that not one screen was lifted from a pocket. Watching from the rear, as I was calling the show, I could see no devices raised. We had ‘em; and this dynamic was repeated in each of the ensuing three Acts, “Triage,” “Defiance” and “Empowerment.”
This continued, all the way to the end.
Attrition was more minimal than I’d even hoped. We may have lost only 5% of the audience between the 7:00pm Opening to the Closing notes of Act IV at about 9:05. After the first Vignette; as the lights faded before successive ones, the audience would simply fall silent and turn to the stage. Taught and trusting.
Excelsior!
Here, then, are the scripts for the Experience. Performed by actors on loan from ACT on the stage, platforms and balcony and framed with Video Codas, attention-grabbing musical performance and a soloist; the story was compellingly told and received with everything from tears to thunderous applause.
Here, then, is the script.
ACT I – Discovery
Just as the guests are settling into the party, first drinks in hand and buffet stations inspected and selected; suddenly, disco music from the 70’s (Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love”) bursts from the speakers, the lighting goes to Fabulous, spotlights ballyhoo and colors flash everywhere as the encircling balcony and free-standing platforms are filled with flaggers. We are at The Saint or Trocadero, and the year is 1981 or 1982…
For a full minute, the audience is immersed in fantastic, frenetic, kinetic nostalgia; smiling at the blurred memories of dancing ‘til dawn in self-actualized celebration of liberation and freedom…
The music suddenly comes to a stop. The upper reaches of the ballroom go dark as the lights move across the audience to focus on the stage. There, standing in a column of light is the Boy, quiet. We hear the ringing of a telephone through the receiver of a landline phone of the late ’70’s…
Mom:
Hello…?
Boy:
Hello, Mom? It’s me.
Mom:
So I see. Where are you? Are you coming home?
Boy:
I’m not coming home, Mom; I live in San Francisco. For now, anyway…
Would you put Dad on the extension, please? I have something I want to tell you both.
Mom:
I think we already know anything you could tell us, by now…
Boy:
Actually, Mom, I don’t think you know this. Please get dad on the line…
Mom (hollers to Dad):
Pappa, Honey, get on the extension. Our son has something he wants to tell us.
Dad:
Hey, Kid; how’s it going, out there in…California?
Boy:
Hey, Dad. Mom.
So, Listen. How are you guys doing, out there? Has it snowed, yet? The weather, here, is always so mild…well, except in the summer, when it gets cold and foggy…<weak laugh>… I miss you guys; mom, I miss your cooking. I’ve lost some weight, <takes a breath> recently, and sure could go for some of your mashed potatoes and gravy…
<uncomfortable silence>
Mom:
Son, we haven’t heard from you in months, and this is what you call to talk about? Weather and food?
Boy:
No. No, that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I just think about you a lot, recently, and I wanted… Well, I need to tell you some things; some stuff I’ve been keeping to myself for a long time, some stuff that’s a little newer…
Dad:
Did you lose your job, Son? Are you okay? Do you need money?
Mom:
He’s a big boy, Pappa, he can take care of himself. After all, he moved clear to California to be on his own, didn’t he…?
Dad:
Mamma…
Boy:
Dad, it’s all right. I still have a job.
So, here’s the thing. I know how upset you were when I didn’t propose to Susie; and that you’ve never been happy about me moving away. I just had to get to a bigger place.
I never felt right in our town, I never fit, and I knew if I came someplace like San Francisco, I might fit in better; meet more people….like…me…
Mom/Dad:
<quietly> like you…?
Boy:
So, the first thing I need to tell you is that I’m Gay. I’ve known it forever, it feels like. I kept hoping that maybe I’d grow… that I’d… But it never…
Dad:
We know, Son. We knew, didn’t we, Momma…?
Mom:
<silence>
Boy:
I thought you might; but I was afraid to bring it up. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I know you had plans…
Dad:
You didn’t dis…
Boy:
<interrupting> There’s more, Dad. Mom.
Mom:
<almost coldly, stoic> What is it?
Boy:
Well, I mentioned I’ve lost some weight. Actually, I’ve lost a lot of weight, sorta fast. I’m sick.
Mom:
<very stoically, with bitterness> What is it? A flu? Pneumonia? I knew all that fog…
Boy:
It’s not the flu, Mom. I don’t know what it is. There’s a lot of confusion about what’s going on, and a lot of guys are getting sick…very sick…very fast. No one is sure where it’s coming from; but other guys like me are getting it, all over the place…guys like me…It’s scary…I’m scared, a little…
Dad:
<bravely> What are your symptoms, Son? Are you coughing? What…?
Mom:
Do you have a fever?
Boy:
That’s what’s so scary. At first, I was just so tired…just climbing stairs was wearing me out for no reason. Then, about two weeks ago, these spots started showing up on my legs; then, last week, there were a couple on my chest….
<silence>
Then, this morning as I was shaving, I found one on my cheek. <he chokes a little> …on my face, Mom!
My face…
Dad:
<quietly> What does your doctor say? Are you taking anything? What’s your treatment?
Mom:
What do these spots look like. What’s on your face?
Boy:
That’s just it; nobody knows what to do about it. There seems to be no medicine for this. These spots…they look like big brown amoebas made of the same stuff as a mole or a dark freckle… They’re ugly…
Mom:
Are you in pain, Honey? How did you get this?
Boy:
No one seems to really know where it comes from; but it’s hitting all my friends, lots of guys I know or used to see around just seem to be disappearing. First they get tired like I did, then they lose a lot of weight, then you just don’t see them, anymore…
<silence>
They just….disappear… My friends… Disappearing…
Mom:
Well. Perhaps if you hadn’t…
Dad:
<cuts her off> We’re coming out there, Son.
Mom:
We are…?
Dad:
Yes, we are. We’ll make arrangements to get out there, next week. You sure you don’t need any money?
Mom:
Can you get the time off, Pappa?
Dad:
I can get the time off. We’ll come out there. Anything you want us to bring…?
Boy:
I don’t need anything, Dad; I’d just like to see you… Mom, would you make some Mashed Potatoes while you’re here…?
<fade out>
Act I Coda
“His parents may have made it to San Francisco in time to say “goodbye” to their son; or perhaps not. In those dark and confusing, early years it was often a matter of only a few, short weeks between Discovery, Diagnosis and Death. By the time one realized weight was dropping too fast, that the bruise was more than a bruise, the disease was often in advanced stages. It was as though a brutal, Autumn wind swept through this City, taking with it hundreds of young men and women, like so many brittle leaves, week after month after year.
Many parents, brothers and sisters, friends, relatives rushed to San Francisco only to arrive too late. Our Community seeking and finding no help from elsewhere, was going to have to address this Thing by ourselves. And that, we did…
Over those first, few years; San Francisco’s response…for Triage and Caregiving, for succor and sustenance, set the bar and became what the rest of the country and now the world see as the Model for communities to deal with the myriad needs that appeared.
Concurrently, we had to face and aggressively enlighten a nation; striving to protect ourselves from and eliminate an instantly-inherent, blaming prejudice coming even from government agencies and leadership.
What was happening was unprecedented, unfathomable, inexplicable; a swift-moving, deadly mystery that was pulling our lives out from under us. A Vale of Tears through which most all of us passed; perhaps not at the same time, nor the same place, and all too often, alone..”
Act II – Triage
<phone rings> <another phone rings, overlapping> <then, another…>
<louder ring as House Lights begin to fade>
<then, two phones…then more, and more, until there is a cacophony of phones ringing, louder and louder until conversation can’t compete. Concurrently and in counterpoint, House lights fade to black.>
<phones stop, suddenly. Concurrent with this, Volunteer, in position on stage, is lit.>
Volunteer:
Hello. California AIDS Hotline. How can I help you?
Caller:Roger
Is this an anonymous hotline?
Volunteer:
Yes. We are completely anonymous. we don’t record calls, we don’t ask names…
In Rapid Succession:
Roger
I think I’m sick. I think I have this thing…what is it even called? GRID?
Rick
I’ve lost so much weight in the last two weeks…
Pam
I don’t know how to say this…
Patrick
I think I need to get tested…
Josh
There’s this mark on my arm
Rick
There’s a mark on my leg
Pam
There’s a mark on my stomach
Roger
There’s a mark on my face
Rick
I don’t want my doctor to know
Patrick
I don’t want my parents to know
Alex
I can’t tell my roommates
Josh
How can I tell my Lover?
Pam
What about my kids?
Roger
If anyone in my Church finds out…
Josh
Is there someone I can talk to…?
Rick
I hear there’s a test to see if one has it. Is there a test? Do I have to give my name?
Pam
I don’t want to give my name to anyone.
Patrick
How long til I get my results…?
Rick
My boss saw the lesions on my arm, and now I don’t have a job…
Josh
I’ve been denied my Social Security…they just don’t seem to know what’s going on…
Roger
I went to the Red Cross Blood Drive at work…
Josh
They asked me how much sex I’ve had!
Rick
Then, they told me they couldn’t take my blood; they sent me away.
Patrick
I was … embarrassed.
Roger
Fired from my job…I can still work…is there a way to find work?
Josh
…I came home and all my stuff was on the street; my roommates have locked me out…
Pam
I need help to keep my electricity
Rick
Where can I live? Is there someplace I can call to get help?
Pam
I’m running out of money…
Roger
I have no health insurance…
Patrick
I can’t pay my rent…
Pam
I have a baby…what about nursing?
Roger
I just read that the Mayor has declared a State of Emergency and endorsed Needle Exchange…
Rick
I went to visit my friend in the hospital, and they made me put on a Hazmat Suit!
Patrick
My lover is in the hospital, they won’t let me see him; I’m not Family!
Josh
I’m afraid to leave my house!
Pam
I’m pregnant…
Josh
I can’t stand for people to see me.
Rick
Can you get it from kissing?
Roger
Can you get it from shaking hands?
Pam
Can you get it from a sneeze?
Rick
Hello, I’m a Physician, calling from Kentucky…I don’t know where to get the information I need…Where might I learn about your Needle Exchange Program?
Patrick
My lover is sick, I wake up every morning, afraid of what I might find. I need to talk to someone…
Roger
Is there someone?
Pam
I think my husband might be Gay…
Josh
I don’t have the energy to walk my dog, I feel sorry for her…
Roger
I’m too tired to cook; besides, there’s no food in the house, really…
Patrick
I hear there’s someone who delivers meals? Can I know who that is…?
Pam
What can you tell me about Hospice Care? I have a friend…
Rick
My friend died
Josh
My friend died
Patrick
My friend died
Roger
My Lover has died
Pam
My Brother has died
Patrick
So many funerals.
Rick
I want to scatter his ashes here in San Francisco…
Josh
Is there someplace I can do that?
Roger
He just loved it, here…
Pam
He’s our President; he won’t even say the word!
In Rapid Succession:
Roger
I live in the Castro
Rick
Sunset
Josh
Richmond
Patrick
The Mission
Pam
Potrero
Roger
The Marina
Rick
Pacific Heights
Josh
The Haight
Patrick
Daly City
Pam
Pacifica
Roger
Oakland
Rick
Sacramento
Josh
West Hollywood
Patrick
Yreka
Pam
Fresno
Roger
Redding
Rick
Ukiah
Josh
Palm Springs
Patrick
San Jose
Pam
Mill Valley
Roger
Davis
Rick
Napa
Josh
Tracy
Patrick
Modesto
Pam
Turlock
Roger
San Diego
All:
Am I going to Die?
Act II Coda
“…it was out of the ashes, turmoil, confusion and fear that the Gay and Lesbian Community of San Francisco actually became Community. As thousands of men became ill and died, thousands of women stepped in to care for them; where there had been schism grew a powerful bond.
Dealing with a formless and formidable foe; we gathered to shelter, feed and offer succor to those whose lives were disappearing before their own eyes and before ours.
None of us had time to grieve…Responding: racing and reaching to catch and care for the fallen, one after another. Breathlessly poised and responsive to one another, we took care of one another.
In taking care of ourselves, before this vicious and aggressive virus even had a name, we created a critical network of Service Organizations that grew and evolved, split and merged, addressing the needs as the needs grew and changed. Hospice to care for dying with no homes to embrace them, Project Open Hand to feed them, A Quilt to Remember even as we continued to die; alliances of men and women, friend and former foe, doctors and nurses, artists, therapists, brothers, sisters…
A network of sustenance and advocacy that has continued to evolve to meet the needs of our Community, led by what is now the San Francisco AIDS Foundation…”
<Spotlight up on House Right Platform>
Tim Hockenberry at Keyboard, sings “Just Breathe” (Pearl Jam / Vedder)
Act III – Defiance
Act Up Chants from the encircling balcony:
ACT UP! FIGHT BACK! FIGHT AIDS!
PEOPLE WITH AIDS ARE UNDER ATTACK! WHAT DO WE DO? ACT UP! FIGHT BACK!
GEORGE BUSH, YOU CAN’T HIDE. WE CHARGE YOU WITH GENOCIDE!
TAIKO (three drums in the balcony) joins the cacophony
One, full minute. Then …
Act III Video:
Blindsided by HIV, decimated by AIDS, obstructed and blocked by a bureaucracy that could neither comprehend nor respond to what was happening, ignored by our government and dismissed as expendable… We had finally had enough.
After gathering to take care of ourselves and our loved ones, after creating Community out of virulent chaos and from that, creating the San Francisco Model of Care; we looked about us with the realization that our dying by the thousands wasn’t dramatic enough to capture the attention of and elicit action from our own governments.
So, we took to the streets.
Taking a lesson from our own recent history; we gathered in force to get in the face of our inactive leaders and a general population choosing to look the other way. From Die-In’s at the Centers for Disease Control and in the streets of cities from New York to San Francisco, to closing rush-hour traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge; we got their attention and caused the release of medicines, the focus of resources, the movement of those bureaucracies such that the help our communities needed on myriad fronts began finally to materialize…
BOYKIN:
Sixteen years into this war with no end in sight. The Death Toll mounts.
Evolving from bewildered victims to angry and aggressive activists, refusing to simply die and disappear; we became a Voice, a Presence, a Force with which to be Reckoned. By the early ’90’s, over Eighteen Thousand had died in San Francisco, alone; yet even our President had yet to utter a word on AIDS. This nation needed awakening, and awaken it, we did.
Marches, Demonstrations at the Seats of our governments, Die-In’s at the Centers for Disease Control and in the streets of our home Cities… If our nation won’t respond to our perishing, we will force our leaders to pay attention, and to lead: we will make our country pay attention to us, and we will get our medicines released to us.
And we succeeded.
We continue to succeed.
Now, it has been 30 years since the war started, and over 25 million people have perished. Last year, more than 3 million people died of AIDS. That’s three million coffins, three million eulogies, three million families.
And this war is far from over. Every 10 seconds, someone on the planet dies of AIDS. More than 8,000 people will die today from this disease. Nearly 1000 of them will die before we leave this room, tonight.
Many of us here tonight know all too well the toll that AIDS has taken. We have been fighting this war, battle by battle, deep in the trenches, out on the front lines for decades. And many of us are tired. When we go to the AIDS Grove, when we simply remember what we have lost, when we visit the Quilt; we are understandably heartbroken, for we see more than names and patches sewn into a fabric; we see the faces of our friends, lovers, brothers, sisters, parents and children.
We have fought the good fight, but we are a weary army in desperate need of comfort and assurance. So as we gather tonight, we have come to a turning point in this conflict. The poet Essex Hemphill tells us that he conquered his sorrow after the loss of a good friend by taking up the cause of his friend. “When my brother fell, I picked up his weapons,” he said.
As did Hemphill: so we must pick up the weapons left behind by our sisters and brothers in the struggle. To those who have gone before us, we honor them not by erecting new statues on pedestals, but by finishing the work that they began.
Our gathering tonight is not only an acknowledgement, a memorial; but this is our call for a rededication. Tonight we commit ourselves not just to the legacy of the dead, but also to the hopes of the living. We pledge to be vigilant in this fight until victory is won.
As long as 40 million people on this planet are living with AIDS, we cannot give up. As long as 5 million people are infected with HIV every year, we cannot give up. As long as there is one person living with this virus, we cannot give up. Until there is a cure, there must be a fight.
Make no mistake about it, the cavalry will not come to save us. But this is not the time to wave the white flag of surrender. This is the time to fight back. You see, we are the cavalry. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. This is our moment in history. We are closer to victory than we may realize, and we have come too far to turn back now. So let us move forward.
We are morally bound to Answer This Call.
Battle fatigued and war weary, we march on.
Sometimes beaten but never defeated, we march on.
Down but not out, we march on.
In memory of yesterday, we march on.
With courage for today, we march on.
With hope for tomorrow, we march on.
Will you answer…?
Act IV – Empowerment
Performers are lined up, as at a bus stop, across the front of the Stage…
Rick
WTF! We did it. Can you believe we did it?!? And Congress actually named the Act after him.
Pam
Rest in peace, Ryan.
Patrick
Have you seen that cute Latino guy on “Real World,” Pedro Zamora. He has HIV.
Josh
That’s amazing that they’d put him on TV.
Cindy
IMHO; It’s amazing he’d go on TV.
Roger
I hear the FDA is working on some fast track process for AIDS drugs… maybe we can get meds before we die!
Rick
They’re calling it a “cocktail,” some sort of triple combination…
Josh
Don’t fool yourself. It’s no party. The drugs feel just as brutal as the disease.
Cindy
There are no obituaries in the BAR, today; NO OBITUARIES.
Patrick
Jesus. Pedro Zamora just died.
Pam
I just read that they’re giving AZT to pregnant women with HIV and it seems to be protecting the infants from infection.
Roger
I didn’t even know it was possible to ride your bike from here to LA. Their making it a fundraiser! Hey, let’s do it!
Rick
Are you crazy?!?!
Josh
Tom Hanks playing gay, with AIDS!? Antonio Banderas is his lover? I don’t even know where to start with that…
Cindy
We’ve got to do something about the travel ban. It’s absurd. This is the United States!
Josh
I don’t know how many more die-in’s I have in me… Probably only a thousand or so!
Roger
It’s called “Rent,” and it just opened on Broadway.
Rick
A musical about AIDS!? This I have to see…
Josh
It won the TONY?!
Cindy
It’s called Pangaea Global AIDS Foundation – we can’t ignore what it’s doing to the rest of the world!
Pam
The Ryan White Care Act was just reauthorized!
Roger
PEPFAR. If stands for the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief. It’s about time this happened.
Josh
A single pill. I can’t believe I’m still alive to see my entire regimen in a single pill.
Cindy
It’s amazing how receptive the new administration is to our input.
Rick
You’re not kidding. He’s already targeting the needle exchange restrictions and the travel ban.
Josh
Wow. First Magnet and Stonewall became part of the foundation, now STOP AIDS…and opening up in the Castro; very cool.
Roger
I really feel hopeful, sometimes… Like, we’re gonna get through this.
… what followed this was a 3” video on opportunities for engagement with and for the SFAIDS Foundation; then a sudden, fully encircling appearance by the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus in the balcony, overhead, singing “Give ‘Em Hope,” introducing the CEO and Board to the audience. A quick thank-you-for-coming, and the chorus burst into the rousing Chorus of “Defying Gravity” from “Wicked,” as the audience cheered and clapped…
Then, it was liquor and dessert ‘til ten.
The important thing, here, is that we captured and kept the attention of a partying audience through adept, intense storytelling. Rather than compete with mobile devices, we kept the storytelling focused and pithy; thus effectively engaging the audience long enough to communicate, then relinquishing our hold on them for long enough to decompress and express, then doing it, again.
When the audience again fell to silence as the lights faded for Act IV, I knew we’d done it right.
Congratulations on a job well done – and thank you for articulating our history.
Wow, that takes a person back.
I was moved to tears just in the reading…I can only imagine the impact of the actual showing. You always have been so gifted, my friend.
I was tearing as well by reading your words Kile. You evoke emotion and empathy in your wonderful manner of written communication. Thank you for sharing with all! Hugs!
i was there, and it was amazing, and it did take me back….thanks Kile.
Beautiful….Wish I had been there. Your gift is truly amazing.
I am so so proud of you, wonderful Kile.
Wow. Thank you for gifting this as I was unable to attend. I am pulled through my emotional tunnel by reading your words. I just breathed out.
I was lucky enough to be able to work with you on this show and know your script well but even months later reading this I still tear up. Thank you for the incredible experiences this post and the show have given me.
thank you, Dan. It is the collaborative support of Professionals such as y’self that makes these experiences realize-able…
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